th' brass aw
have i' mi pocket. Aw'll let Mistress Swindle see at shoo connot crow
ovver me!"

Soa Sammywell went aght to be shaved, an Mally began to get ready to goa
wi him, as sooin as he should be all fixed up to suit her.

"Nah, Sammywell," sed Mally, as sooin as they wor ready to set off, "Aw
dunnot want thee to say a word when we get to th' shop. Aw'll do what
tawkin has to be done, an if aw connot get thee a better hat nor that
tha has on thi heead, and one to seem thi better, aw shall know th'
reason why. Aw can hardly fashion to walk daan th' street wi thi, but it
isn't varry far an we happen shalln't meet onnybody we know."

When they walked into th' shop, Mally went up to th' caanter and sed,
"Young man,--aw want to buy a new silk top hat, latest fashion, best
quality, price noa object, if its under ten shillin, to suit this
elderly gentleman, an luk sharp abaat it, for we're prepared to pay
ready brass."

"Certainly, maam," an he sooin had two or three ready for him to try on.
"How will this suit?--latest style."

"That willn't do at all. It maks him luk like a pill doctor. He wants a
chapel-gooin hat."

"Well, here's the very thing. Just the style for an old man."

"Then aw dooant want it! He's net an old man! He's noa older nor yo'll
be if yo live as long. Why, that maks him luk like a local praicher aght
o' wark!"

"How will this suit? This style is very much worn."

"Aw dooant want one at's been worn. Noa second hand hats for me."

Th' shopman didn't loise his patience, but tried one after another wol
th' caanter wor piled up wi hats, but nooan on em suited.

"Aw dooant know ha it is," sed Mally, "a big shop like this an cant get
a daycent lukkin hat! Awm sewer there must be one if onnybody'd sense to
find it. Here's one, try this."

Sammywell put it on. "That's the ticket! That luks like summat! Aw knew
aw could find one! Ha does it feel? Is it comfortable?" an shoo twisted
it to one side and then twisted it back agean. "Nah, what do yo want for
that,--an remember,--ready brass?"

"I cannot charge for that, because that's the hat he came in."

"Is that soa, Sammywell?"

"Eah, this is my own hat."

"Why, then, its what aw've tell'd thi monny a time,--its thee at doesn't
know ha to put it on. Th' hat ails nowt if ther wor some sense i'th
heead. Tha couldn't have a better. Its a blessin aw coomed wi thi or
else tha'd just ha thrown ten shillin away. Awm varry mich obliged to
yo, youn