or
summat i'th' missionary line. Aw niver saw as mich stuff to ait i'
all my life, except in a cook shop. "Shall I pass you a little soup,"
said th' maister? "Noa, thank yo," aw said, "aw weshed me afoor aw
coom." "Not soap, my good friend, I mean soup," he said. "Oh! broth,
is it? Aw did'nt know what yo ment. Eeah, aw'll tak a soop o' broth,
if yo please, an' a bit o' suet dumplin,' if yo have a bit." When aw
said soa, a lot began a cough in', the same as if they'd a boan i'
ther throit, an' th' maister oppened sich a shop 'at aw thowt th' top
ov his heead had come off, but aw reckoned to tak noa noatice an' aw
worked away wi my gapin' stick woll th' maister axed me ha aw liked my
ox tail soup. "Dun yo call this ox tail soup," aw said, an' aw beld
up a caah tooith ommust big enuff to mak a knife heft. Aw thowt it
war a gooid joak, but noabody else seem'd to see it, an' th' mistress
ordered th' waiter to tak it away instantum.

When we'd all etten woll we' wor om most brussen they browt a lot o'
black bottles wi' silver necks in, an' we'd all a glass o' some sooart
o' pop. By th' heart an' it wor pop too. "Dun yo mak this yoursen,
mistress?" aw axed. "By gingo, this licks awr traitle drink into fits,
yo mun give me th' resait, if yo have it." "This is shampane, sur,"
shoo said. "Aw dooant care whether it's sham or not, it's as gooid as
owt o'th' sooart aw've tasted, aw'll thank you for another drop,"
"Help yourself, my friend," said th' maister, an aw did, aboon a bit,
but ha long aw wor at it or ha monny bottles aw emptied aw niver
knew, for some ha aw fell asleep, an' when aw wakken'd aw wor at
hooam, an' my owd wornan wor callin aat, "Are ta baan'ta get up,
yond's th' last whew."

Smiles, Tears, Getting on.

Smiles are things aw like to see, an'. they're noa less acceptable
becoss sometimes ther's a tear or two. A chap at's a heart ov a
reight sooart under his waistcoit cannot allus be smilin'. Awve met a
deal o' sooarts o' fowk i' my bit o' time, an' th' best aw iver met
had a tear i' ther ee nah an' then. If ther's owt aw hate to see, its
a chap at's allus smilin'; an' if iver yo meet sich a one set him daan
to be awther a haufthick or a hypocrite--yo'll be sure to be reight.
It'll be time enuff to be allus grinnin' when all th' warkhaases an'
th' prisons are to let--when lawyers have to turn farmers, an'
bumbaileys have to emigrate--when yo connot find a soldier's or a
policeman's suit ov cloo