n' all ready for th' teah, an'
th' uncle an' hont had takken ther places at th' table.

"Come sit thi daan," sed his hont; "but before tha
does, just hand me th' tea pot off th' rib; an' mind, for th'
hanel's hot."

"Awl mind," he sed; an' as he began to think he'd had mishaps enuff for
one day, he thowt he'd steer clear ov ony moor, an' soa as he'd been
wan'd th' hanel wor hot, he tuk hold o'th' spaat, an' he'd hardly getten
a yard away throo th' fire wi' it, when a streeam o' boilin teah began
to run daan th' inside ov his jacket sleeve; but he held on like a man,
an' he wor detarmined he'd land it on to th' table, soa he ran wi' it
an' bang'd it into th' middle o'th' tea things, smashin cups an' saucers
an' upsettin th' sugar basin an' th; creeam jug, an' makkin sich a mash
as yo niver saw.

Up jumpt booath hont and uncle. "Just luk at my yollo satin dress," sed
his hont; "it'll niver be fit to be seen agean!"

"If tha doesn't tak thysen aght o' this haase," sed his uncle, "awl
pawse thi aght, for tha's made moor bother sin tha coom in nor enuff."

But poor Jack wor sufferin badly, which his hont (woman like) noa
sooiner saw nor shoo forgave him all th' damage he'd done, an' went to
sympathise with him. His arm wor varry badly scalded, an' soa shoo put
some traitle an' flaar on it, an' lapp'd it up, an' then he sed he thowt
it wor time he trudged hooam. "Aw wish tha'd trudged long sin," sed his
uncle, "an' if tha doesn't come here agean wol aw send for thi, tha
willn't come yet a bit."

Jack gate his hat an' wor just gooin aght, when they discovered 'at it
wor rainin varry fast. "Awl leean thi a umberella," said his hont, "but
aw dooant think awst iver see it agean, but as tha's been wet throo
twice to-day aw think tha's had baat enuff."

He took th' umberella an' went to th' door, an' they follow'd him to bid
him gooid day.

He shoved th' umbrella under his arm, an' held aght his hand, "Gooid bye
hont, wol aw see yo agean." "Confaand thy stupid heead!" shaated aght
th' uncle.

"What's up nah?" sed Jack.

"Can't ta see? Tha's shoved th' end o' that umberella stick reight into
mi e'e."

"Why, awm varry sooary," sed Jack, "but it mud ha' been war!"

"Ha could it ha' been war, softheead?"

"Why if awd shoved it into' em booath," sed Jack as he hooked it, for he
thowt he'd better be goin.

Whether he landed hooam withaat ony moor mishaps or net aw cannot say;
but varry likely net. But aw think, we've f