wore a long blue coat which plainly spoke of
years gone by, and bore in many places unmistakable evidence that Tommy
was no friend to tailors; beneath this an old crimson plush waistcoat,
that had long since done its duty, some drab knee-breeches, and a pair
of dark grey stockings which hid their lower extremities in a pair of
shoes about large enough to make two leather cradles; on his head a hat
that scorned to shine, and in his hand he carried an oaken staff; his
small grey eyes glistened with a spark of latent wit, whilst on his face
was stamped in unequivocal characters some quaint originality.

"Gooid morning, Tommy," said the farmer.

"Gooid morning Dick," replied Tommy, "it's a nice day ower th' head but
fearful heavy under th' fooit."

"You're reight," said Dick, "but where are yo trapesing to this
morning?"

"Waw, aw'm gooin as far as Dick's o' Tom's at th' Durham, to get my tooa
nails cut," said Tommy.

"Well, yo'll happen bait a bit and ha a wiff o' bacca wi' me, for its a
long time sin aw saw yo afoor," said Dick.

"Waw, aw dooant mind if aw have a rick or two, but aw munnot stop long,
for it luks rayther owercussen up i'th' element; but ha's that lad o'
thine getting on sin he wed quiet Hannah lass? Aw've wondered sometimes
if he wod'nt rue his bargain,--is shoo as fat as sho wor?"

"Eea, shoo keeps i' varry gooid order, shoo puts her mait into a better
skin nor th' mooast; they didn't hit it soa well at th' furst, for shoo
wor varry waspish, an' tha knows awr Joa's as queer as Dick's hatband,
when he's put aght a bit. One morning, abaght a wick after they wor wed,
Joa woran't varry weel, an' had to ligg i' bed a bit,--shoo gate up to
muck th' beeas,--(for shoo can do a job like that, tha knows, when
shoo's a mind.)"

"Eea! eea!" said Tommy, "noabody better,--shoo's a pair o' gooid
end,--shoo's nooan afeared o' dipping her finger i' water, nut shoo."

"Well, aw tell thi, shoo gate up, an' in a while shoo call'd aght 'at
his porridge wor ready when he liked to come daan, an' then shoo went
aght. Soa in a bit, he gate up, an' th' pan wor stood o' th' rib
flopping away rarely. Well, he gate a plate, an' thowt he'd tern' em
aght to cooil, when asteead o' porrige, aght come th' dish claat slap on
to his fooit;--talk abaght single step doncing!--tha should just ha seen
him; he ommost lauped clean ower th' breead flaik;--an' thear shoo stood
grinning at him throo th' winder, an' he wor soa mad--he wuth