Louisa gate up an fotch’d it off a shelf—­it wor tied up in a piece o’ paper, an when shoo oppened it aght, it must ha getten damp somehah, for it wor all i’ patches o’ white mowd, an fairly ruinated.

Then booath on em burst into tears when they saw it, and sat daan ageean an sobbed for long enuff.

“Ther’s nowt for it but to be turn’d aght o’th haase an goa an work i’ a mill,” sed Louisa.

“Eeah! dear-a-me, to think o’ us commin to that.”  An they booath cried ageean.

“We must have summat at we can sell,” Rosa sobbed in a bit, “what’s getten mother’s brooach?”

“We sell’d that to pay th’ doctor’s bill when poor owd Hamer next door had th’ fever soa long.”  “So we did, awd forgetten.”

Ageean nawther on em spake for a bit, an th’ wind howl’d raaad th’ haase, an rain beat ageean th’ panes, an all on a sudden Rosa jump’d up an sed—­

“Louisa, dooan’t yo’ remember when mother wor deein, shoo sed ther wor a little tin box i’ her trunk, an at if ivver we wor i’ onny trouble we wor to look inside ov it.”

“Aw think aw do, but aw nivver saw th’ box, whear is it?”

“Aw dooan’t know, unless its i’th trunk still, let’s hev a look for it.”

They gate a cannel an went upstairs, an varry sooin coom daan ageean wi a owd tin trunk at they put on th’ hearthstun.  Louisa oppened it, an start’d rummagin abaat amang a whole lot o’ odds an ends o’ wearin apparel, an reight daan i’th bottom corner her hand coom agean summat hard.

“Here it is,” shoo sed, as shoo pool’d aght a little flat tin box, abaat eight inches long an six inches wide an appen hawf an inch thick.

One end ov it wor made to slide off, but it wor soa rusty for want o’ use ‘at it tuk a bit o’ bother to loise it, but at last off it coom, an Louisa put in her finger and pool’d aght—­not a savins bank book wi a gooid raand sum o’ money on its pages—­but three owd numbers o’th Clock Almanack.

Poor lasses, they’d been expectin sich things aght o’ this box, at when they saw what it contain’d they booath started o’ cryin agean.

“Poor mother,” sed Rosa, “shoo allus used to say ’at if shoo wor low spirit’d or i’ trubble th’ “Clock Almanack” allus cheer’d her up, an shoo must ha thowt it wod cheer us up too.”

An then they cried agean, for nawther on em felt at all inclin’d for readin noa comic stooaries, or thowt at they’d find much comfort i’th Yorksher dialect that neet; soa Louisa put em back into th’ box an nivver oppen’d em—­but as th’ box wor rayther thin, shoo had to slide em in one at a time, an as shoo wor puttin in th’ second one, th’ remainin almanac slipt off her knee onto th’ floor, an tho’ shoo didn’t see it, a bit o’ white paper fell aght ov it an lay under th’ table.

When th’ box wor put away they went to bed withaat supper, an cried thersens to sleep, an th’ paper laid thear under th’ table all neet, an a couple o’ braan mice play’d all raand it, an used it insteead ov a table cloth to eat ther supper off.