“If it wor nobbut a tooith at wor botherin me, tha might gie me a tooithful, but when its mi whooal heead, a pint ’ll be little enuff.”

“Keep still just whear tha art, an aw’ll fotch thi some, for unless aw do aw dooant think tha’ll let me have a bit o’ sleep.”

Sammywell sat varry still an Mally wornt varry long befoor shoo wor back, an as sooin as shoo could shoo made him a glass booath strong an hot, an considerin at it wor baght sewger, he tuk it varry weel, tho’ he did pool a faal face after he’d getten it daan.

“Nah, aw’ll mak thi a gooid big bran pooltice at’ll goa all ovver thi heead, an then tha mun get to bed, an then aw’ll tak a drop o’ whisky to awr Hepsabah’s husband, for he’s fair made up wi a cold.”

“Tha mun do nowt o’th sooart.  Ther isn’t a war thing for a cold nor whisky; all th’ doctor’s ’ll tell thi that.  If he’s getten a bad cold mak him some mint tea.  Ther’s nowt better for gettin him onto a sweeat.  An aw think if aw wor thee aw wodn’t bother abaat that bran pooltice wol we see ha th’ whisky goas on.  Awm sewer aw feel a bit easier bi nah.  Aw think aw’ll creep up to bed, an awd better tak th’ bottle up wi me for fear it should come on agean, an aw’ll leeav thee to mak th’ mint teah, an be sewer tha doesn’t stop long, for aw connot rest withaat thi.”

He went to bed an Mally made a jugful o’ strong mint teah an tuk it to Hepsabah’s, an when shoo coom back an went up to bed, Sammywell wor asleep.

“He must ha had another tarrible pain,” sed Mally, “for th’ bottle’s empty, but he’s saand asleep nah.”

When Mally wakkened i’th mornin, Sammywell wor still asleep, soa shoo gate up as quietly as shoo could, an tuckt him in nice an comfortable, an went daan-stairs to get a bit o’ braikfast ready.

“Aw know he likes a sup a teah,—­an aw’ll mak him a bit o’ nice buttered tooast an cook him a Yarmoth Blooater, an may-be he’ll feel a bit better after he’s getten that into him, tho’ sometimes aw think he hardly desarves it, for he does try me sometimes wol aw think he’s ommost spun me to th’ length.  But what can aw do?  He’s nooan what yo call an ill en, but he’s soa aggravatin.  But aw’ve nubdy to blame but misen, for aw’ve spoilt him ivver sin aw had him an awst ha to tak th’ consequences.  If ivver aw get wed ageean aw’ll begin as aw meean to go on.  But, A’a dear o’ me! whativver am aw tawkin abaat!  An old gronmother like me thinkin abaat gettin wed ageean!  But ther are times when sich thowts will get into a body’s noddle, for aw once heeard a chap say, at a chap does live sometimes till he’s to old to be wed, but a woman nivver.  But aw needn’t trouble misen wi thinkin abaat sich things for he’s nooan deead yet nor likely to be; an if he wor aw dooant know whear aw could ivver get another to suit me as weel.  If aw could nobbut taich him a bit o’ sense, an get him to behave as a chap ov his years owt to do it ud be different, tho’ aw do believe aw should feel lost withaat him.”