“Well, lile Doed hardlins knew what to do.  ‘Twere gettin’ lat, an’ there were summat about t’ lad that set him agin him.  But then he bethowt him o’ t’ squirrel, an’ t’ squirrel were ower mich for him.  So he said to Melsh Dick that he’d gan wi’ him an’ fotch t’ squirrel, but he munnot stop lang, or fowks would consate that he’d lossen his way i’ t’ wood an’ would coom seekin’ him.  When Melsh Dick heerd him say that he’d coom wi’ him, his een fair glistened, an’ he set off through t’ wood wi’ lile Doed followin’ efter him.  T’ wood was full of gert oak-trees, wi’ birks set amang ’em that had just begun to turn colour.  Efter a while they gat to a dub i’ t’ middle o’ t’ wood; ’twere no bigger nor a duck-pond, but t’ watter was deep, an’ all around t’ dub was a ring o’ espin-trees wi’ their boughs hingin’ ower t’ watter.  Eh! ’twas a grand seet, sure enif, an’ Doed had niver seen owt like it afore.  T’ sky had bin owercussen wi’ hen-scrattins an’ filly-tails, but when they gat to t’ dub t’ wind had skifted ’em, an’ t’ mooin were shinin’ ower Pendle Hill way an’ leetin’ up t’ trees and makkin’ t’ watter glisten like silver.  Lile Doed were that fain he started clappin’ his hands an’ well-nigh forgat all about Melsh Dick an’ t’ squirrel.  Then all on a sudden he gat agate o’ laughin’, for when he saw t’ mooin’ i’ t’ watter he bethowt him o’ a tale his mother had telled him o’ soom daft fowks that had seen t’ mooin i’ t’ watter an’ thowt it were a cheese an’ started to rake it out wi’ a hay-rake.

“When Melsh Dick heerd him laughin’, he were fair mad.  He thowt Doed were laughin’ at him, an’ what maddens fairies more nor owt else is to think that fowks is girnin’ at ’em.  Howiver, he said nowt, but set hissen down anent t’ dub an’ Doed did t’ same.  Then they gat agate o’ talkin’, an’ Doed axed Melsh Dick what for he was covered wi’ green moss.

“‘If thou’d to clim’ trees same as I have,’ answered Melsh Dick, ’thou’d be covered wi’ moss too, I’ll uphod.’

“‘An’ what for doesta wear yon cap o’ red fur**??’

“’Why sudn’t I wear a fur cap, I’d like to know.  My mother maks ’em o’ squirrel skins, an’ they’re fearful warm i’ winter-time.’

“When lile Doed heerd him tell o’ squirrels, he bethowt him o’ t’ squirrel i’ t’ basket an’ wanted to set forrard.

“‘Bide a bit,’ says Melsh Dick, ‘an’ I’ll show thee more squirrels nor iver thou’s seen i’ all thy life.’

“With that he taks a whistle out of his pocket; ’twere Just like a penny tin whistle, but ‘twere made o’ t’ rind o’ a wandy esh, an’ Melsh Dick had shapped it hissen wi’ his whittle.  Then he put t’ whistle to his mouth an’ started to blow.  He blew a two-three notes, an’ sure enif, there was a scufflin’ i’ t’ trees an’ i’ less nor hauf-a-minute there were fower or five squirrels sittin’ on t’ boughs o’ t’ espins.  When Doed saw t’ squirrels i’ t’ mooinleet, he were fair gloppened.  He glowered at ’em, an’ they glowered back at him, an’ their een were as breet as glow-worms.