d! awve fun one
o' th' grandest topcoits to-day at iver tha clapt thi' een on." "Why,
where did ta find it?" aw says. "Reight o' th' top o' Skurcoit moor."
"Well, tha'rt a lucky chap," aw says, "what has ta done wi' it?" "Aw
niver touched it; 'aw left it just whear it wor." "Well, tha art a
faoil; tha should ha' brout it hooam." "E'ea! an' aw should ha' done,
but does ta see ther wor a chap in it." Aw tell'd him he'd made a
fooil on me, an' aw consider'd mysen dropt on, but noa moor nor he wor
wi' havin' to leave th' coit. "Neer heed," he said "fowk can allus do
baat what they can't get," an' aw thowt ther wor a bit o' wisdom i'
what he said. But what caps me th' mooast is at fowk tug an' tew for
a thing as if ther life depended on it, an' as sooin as they find they
cannot get it, they turn raand an' say they care nowt abaat it. We've
all heeard tell abaat th' "fox an' grapes," an' ther's a deal o' that
sooart o' thing. This world's full o' disappointments, an' we've all
a share. Th' Bradford Exchange wor oppened this month, 1867, an' aw
luk on it, that wor a sad disappointment to some. "Exchange is noa
robbery," they say, but if some fowk knew what it had cost, they might
think it had been a dear swap. Ther are fowk at call it "a grand
success"--but then awve heeard some call th' Halifax Taan Hall "a
grand success," but they haven't made me believe it. It may do a deal
o' gooid, aw'll not deny that; it may taich fowk to let things alooan
at they dooan't understand--let's hooap soa. Ovver th' door-hoil
they've put "Act Wisely," an' it's time they did. Its summat like
telling a chap to be honest, at the same time yo'r picking his pocket.
But we've noa business to grummel, its awr duty to "submit to th'
powers that be" (if they're little ens); but a chap cannot help
langin' for th' time when brains an' net brass shall fit a man for a
Taan Caancillor. But fowk mun get consolation aat o' summat, soa they
try to fancy th' Taan Hall luks handsome. Its like th' chap 'at saw
his horse fall into th' beck;--he tugg'd an' pool'd, and shaated an'
bawl'd, but th' horse went flooatin' on, plungin' its legs abaat,
makkin' th' watter fly i' all direckshuns but it wur noa use, for it
wur draanded at th' last. When he went hooam he tell'd th' wife abaat
it

"What does ta say?" shoo says; "is it draanded?"

"E'es, it's draanded, lass; but it ud ha' done thi e'en gooid to ha'
seen it, aw wor capt,--mun it wur a topper to