'll sit daan an' wait awl try."

Soa he put his lantern onto th' table an' sat daan wol shoo gate a
little dutch oven an hooked two nice collops in; but shoo fancied shoo
could enjoy one hersen, soa shoo stept up into a cheer to cut off
another, an' as shoo'd th' knife i' one hand an' cannel i' th' tother
shoo ovverbalanced hersen, and fell onto th' floor, settin up sich a
skrike as yo niver heeard. Th' 'cannel went aat when it fell an all
wor as dark as pitch, and Robert hearin th' maister skutterin daan th'
stairs thowt his best plan wor to hook it; soa he grab'd up his
lantern for owt he knew an buckled it on as he wor hurryin up th'
steps. He'd hardly left when th' maister runs aat in his shirt, callin
aat, "Police! police!" Robert comes fussin on as if he knew nowt abaat
it, an' went back wi' th' maister, who wor soa freetened wol he darn't
spaik.

When they went in th' sarvent had sam'd hersen up, an lit th' cannel
agean; but th' lass forgate her fall an' th' maister his fright, when
they lukd at th' policeman an' saw he'd getten th' dutch oven i' th'
front on him astead ov his lantern, an' two bacon collops swingin in
it.

They settled th' matter amang thersens, but it towt that policeman
niver to tak off his lantern until he'd done wi' it.

Information

Divine Service was held in the Temperance Hall, when the celebrated
Dr. Foaming Drinkwater preached from the text Exodus 16 ch. 33 v.,
"And Moses said unto Aaron, take a pot," and in an eloquent sermon of
1h. 55m. the Revd. lecturer clearly showed that a pot of beer was not
alluded to in the text. Collections were made at the close of the
service.

Watterin Places

July is th' month to gooa a spawin'; an' fowk luk forrard to it just
th' same as if they conldn't do withaat it. Th' fact is aw hardly dar
say owt agean it, for awm fond ov a bit ov a off mysen; but then
ther's different ways o' dooin it. A chap at gethers horsemuck at
hooam needn't want to mak' fowk believe he's th' Lord Mayor o' London
abrooad. Aw remember once when aw wur at a watterin' place, aw
followed some fine young ladies an' wished 'em "gooid day;" aw wornt
exactly sure whether one on 'em mightn't be th' Princess o' Wales or
net, but haasumiver, they curled up ther nooas th' same as if they'd
passed a fooamet. But in abaat a wick at after, aw met one on 'em
gooin ovver th' North Brigg wi' a slice o' traitle cake in her hand,
varry near like th' door ov a mahogany shut-up-be