I’th mornin when Rosa coom daan to leet th’ fire th’ piece o’ paper wor th’ furst thing shoo saw when shoo took th’ shut daan; shoo picked it up an turn’d it ovver, an thear if it worn’t a Ten Paand Bank o’ England Nooat.  Tawk abaat rejoicins, jewbilee days is nowt to that mornin.  Louisa nearly went off her chump an they’d th’ best braikfast they’d had for years.

They hadn’t noa daat as to whear it had come thro’ for it wor dated th’ year at ther mother deed, they knew at it must ha been hers, an it had no daat been i’th trunk an tummell’d aght when they wor turnin things ovver—­they had another look but ther wor noa mooar.  It wor Rosa at look’d, but as shoo knew ther were nowt i’th little tin box but Clock Almanacks, shoo didn’t oppen it.

As sooin as th’ banks oppen’d Louisa went an gate th’ nooat chang’d soa as to be ready for th’ lanlord when he coom, an when shoo gate back Rosa met her at th’ door wi a smillin face, and sed, at Missis Rhodes had browt th’ three paand shoo owed em, an ordered a new black silk dress beside; soa they gate daan th’ mouldy piece at they’d look’d at th’ neet befooar, an to ther joy they faand aght at th’ stains wor only on th’ two aghtside folds, an inside it wor all reight an wod mak th’ dress weel enuff.

They’d a happy day as yo can guess, an at dinner time they sent a bit o’ beef an Yorksher puddin to a poorly woman at liv’d daan th’ yard, an like all fowk at does a gooid turn to them at’s war off nor thersens, they felt better for it.  That neet when th’ shop wor shut, they sat daan beside th’ assnook an began o’ tawkin ha different things seemed thro’ what they had done th’ neet befooar.

“Just to think,” sed Rosa, “last neet we’d nobbut ten shillin an th’ rent to pay; an naah we’ve th’ rent paid, an nearly five paand beside, an a dress to mak into th’ bargain.”

“Eah!” Louisa went on, “an just fancy sellin yond owd bonnet at we’ve had soa long, to that owd woman at sed shoo couldn’t bide new fashioned things.”

“Well we’ve had bad luck long enuff, aw hope it’ll turn nah—­if we could nobbut get a bit o’ brass, we’d buy Miss Simpson’s shop i’ front street.”  An soa they tawked on poor lasses i’th gladness o’ ther hearts, for it wor wi them as it is wi a seet o’ others i’ this cowd hard world, they’d had soa mich claady weather at a bit o’ sunshine wor ommost mooar nor they could understand.  After they’d had ther supper, Louisa sed, “Rosa, last neet aw felt as if aw couldn’t bear to read in them owd Clock Almanacs o’ mothers, but aw feel to-neet as if a gooid stooary wodn’t come amiss.”

“Aw’ll read one,” sed Rosa, an shoo gate up an gate th’ little tin case aght o’th box, an took th’ Almanacs aght:—­

“Ther’s eighteen seventy fower, an five, an six, which shall aw read aght on?”

“Th’ owdest one,” Louisa answered, “tho’ noa daat they’ll all be gooid.”

Rosa pickt seventy fower aght, an oppen’d it, an as shoo did soa a crisp bit o’ white paper fell aght, Louisa catcht it befooar it gate to th’ floor, an thear it wor a five paand nooat.