'missis wor waitin' to get in; so
t'Turkey Mill Band struck up "We're goin' home to glory," wi' credit to
both t'conductors an' thersens. Hahsumivver, they wor forced to put
double time in at t'latter end, for Puffin' Billy started o' screaming
ageean fearfully, so all wor in t'carriages an' off in a crack--my word,
they did leg it ower hedges an' dykes, thru valleys an' mahutains--

"Where the wind nivver blew,
Nor a cock ivver crew,
Nor the deil sahnded
His Bugle Horn."

I'll assure yu, foak, it seemed varry little afoar we wor at Clapham.
Why, yu can judge for yersens; when Tom o' Twist's gat up an' popped his
heead aght o' t'window an' shaated aaght "We're at Derby already!" but it
turned aght to be nowt but a coil truck wi' "Derby" marked on it. Well,
be it as it may, we landed at Lancaster sooin, an' some o' t'owd maids
gat aght here, but it wor nivver knawn to this day what for; hahsumivver,
it hes been suspected at they wor after some watter, for ther shooin wor
steepin' wet when they com back. But yu mun knaw at after a deal o'
twistin' an' twinin' they started for Windermere, but, my word, it
worrant generally thowt so, for owd Nathan o' Johnny's an' their Samuel,
an' owd Matty o' Sykes's, an' Bob o' t'Bog, stood it boldly 'at it wor
goin' back to Keighley, an' wodant believe it wal they reitched Kendal;
besides, ivverybody thowt at t'train wor lost, but after another start we
landed at Windermere, an' nearly all t'passengers wor fair capp'd, for
they thowt for sewer at t'injun hed been flaid wi' summat.

But, hod yer din, says Railway Tim,
As it is varry clear,
At t'injun's reight an' landed streight,
For this is Windermere.

So, i' landing, ivverbody seemed quite startled wi' t'appearance o'
t'place. "Well, if ivver, I'm fair capp'd!', sed owd Maude o' Peter's,
"it's t'nicest spot I ivver saw wi' mi een, an' I sall say so to mi
deein' day. It looks like a paradise! I've seen mony a nice place i' mi
life-time, both dreamin' an' wakin', but this licks all! What wi'
t'grand black marble houses an' t'roses growin' up at t'front, it's
ommost like bein' i' Heaven." But nobody cud hear aboon t'toan hauf o'
what wor said cos t'bands wor playin' as hard as ivver they cud an'
t'foak wor all in a bussle, for--

Miss Hob an' Miss Jonas tuke a cab dahn to Bowness,
An' mind yu, they luk'd fearful grand;
An' when they gat theer they tuke fer Grassmere,
Like two o' t'first ladies i' t'land.