nah,
I wish mi new hat wod turn into a cah;
So this is my answer, an' this mi defence."
"Well done!" sed owd Jennet, "he's spokken some sense."

Soa his speech nah he ended, but it touched 'em i't' wick,
Fer we all could see plainly it wor nowt but a trick;
And Jennet declared--tho' she might be too rude--
If he'd come up to t' dinner he sud hev some home-brewed,
Fer i' spite o' ther scandal sho wor praad on him yet,
An' if he drank wine an' porter who'd owt ta do wi' 't.

WITH THE LATE CHARLES BRADLAUGH, M.P.

It was on Shrove-Tuesday in the year 1862 (I think this is the number of
the year; unfortunately I did not keep a diary, and I have nothing but my
memory to go by) that I accompanied the late Mr Charles Bradlaugh, M.P.,
on a Secularist lecturing excursion to Sutton and Silsden. At Sutton Mr
Bradlaugh was well received by the Radicals of the village, who invited
him into a room, where they entertained him to some refreshment. Mr
Bradlaugh "pitched" in front of the Bay Horse Inn, speaking from a chair
which I had borrowed from the landlady of the inn. The subject of Mr
Bradlaugh's lecture was "More pork and less prayer: more bacon and fewer
priests;" and I must confess that he dug his javelin with some vigour
into the parsons. The audience was for the most part composed of old men
and old women, who seemed delighted with the lecture, especially with the
thrusts at the "religious gentlemen." One of the old women exclaimed that
they could do with some more bacon if they could get it, and fewer
parsons. There were, said she, quite plenty of parsons, there being two
of them in that district. At the close of the lecture I went round with
my cap, and collected a few shillings. Mr Bradlaugh then went down to
Silsden, and in the evening lectured on the same subject in the
Oddfellows' Hall, which was crowded at a penny admission fee. Leaving
Silsden, we walked to Keighley--the railway not having yet been laid up
the valley. On the way I had many interesting bits of conversation with
the man who later in life was to create such a stir in the world--the man
who was first errand boy, then coal dealer, Sunday school teacher,
free-thought lecturer, soldier, solicitor's clerk, and, finally, Member
of Parliament. The conversation ran mostly upon soldiering, Mr Bradlaugh
telling me that he had served for three years in the Dragoon Guards,
chiefly in Ireland. General Garibaldi also occupied a goo