y a' gooin' to bed wi' tired
booans, should work i'th' hay-field for a wick. It'll do onnybody
gooid; an' if some o' them idle laewts 'at stand bi a duzzen together
at th' loin ends _laikin_ at pitch an' toss, wod goa an' _work_ at
pitch an' toss, they'd be better booath i' mind an' body an' pocket.
Tossin' th' hay is booath healthful an' lawfur but tossin' hawpneys
(especially them wi' heeads o' booath sides) is nawther. Hay makkin'
is a honest callin', an' when a chap is gettin' his livin' honestly
(noa matter what he does), he feels independent,--an' when a chap
feels soa, he can affooard to spaik what he thinks. Aw remember once
callin' at th' "Calder an' Hebble" public haase, an' sittin' in a raam
wi' a lot o' young swells 'at coom throo Sowerby Brigg; an' in a bit,
a trampified lukkin' chap coom in, an' called for a glass o' ale.
This didn't suit th' young gentlemen, soa one on 'em says to him,
"Fellow, you are an intruder." "Tha'rt a liar," th' chap says, "awm
nowt at sooart, awm a cheer-bottom mender an' aw've sarved mi time to
it." "You don't understand me, sir; what I mean is that you have no
business here." "Noa, lad; aw niver come to theeas shops when aw've
ony business, aw allus do that furst." This rayther puzzled th' young
swell an' his face went as red as a hep, cos aw laff'd at him; an' he
struck his naive o'th' table; "Sir," said he, "will you take your
departure?" "Noa," he said, "aw'll tak nowt 'at doesn't belang to me
if aw know on it." "You're an insolent scoundrel, and I leave you
with contempt." "Yo can leeav me wi' who yo like," he said, "awst
mislest noabody if they behave therlsen". They all went an' left him,
an' as sooin as they'd getten aat o'th' seet he set up a gurt laff,
an' called for another glass; an' aw nooatised at he gave th' landlord
a Sovereign to tak pay aat on, an' when he brout him his change back,
he said, "Thank you, sir," an' bow'd to him as if he'd been one o'th'
gentry. This happened o'th' same day as aw'd been at Briggus, an'
awst net forget that in a hurry:--aw'll tell yo abaat it. It wor a
varry hot day, an' aw'd walked throo Halifax, an' wor beginin' to get
rayther dry, an' when aw'd getten ommost thear, aw saw a booard shoved
aat ov a chamer winder, wi' th' words painted on, "Prime Ginger Beer
Sold here," soa aw went into th' haase an' ax'd for a bottle.
He browt me a old hair oil bottle filled wi' summat, an a varry
mucky-lukkin glass to sup aat on. "Can