' Duke, he sed wornt hauf as
gooid a judge as aw wor; an' he'd sell me that box for two paand, an' it
wor worth three. Aw wor beginnin to feel a bit sickly wi that aw wor
smokin, an' aw didn't care to tawk mich, an' as he hadn't given me onny
change, aw just nodded mi heead, and he had lapped up th' box in a
crack, and handed it me, an three soverings, an' wished me gooid day an
hoped aw'd call agean, and bowed me aght oth shop i' less time nor it
taks to tell it. As sooin as awd getten a few yards away, aw threw mi
cigar into th' street an' detarmined aw'd niver smook agean befoore
braikfast. Them cigars didn't last long, for ov coarse aw allus carried
a lot i' mi pocket, an' as that used to spoil' em a friend o' mine
persuaded me to buy a cigar case. He sell'd it me varry cheap, nobbut
ten shillin; an' then another gate me to subscribe a guinea to a cricket
club, an' aw wondered ha it wor 'at aw'd niver made friends wi'
some o'th' members befoor, for they wor a nice lot. At th' end of
three days mi cigars wor all done, an' soa wor mi five paand nooat. All
aw had wor a empty cigar box, a pastboard cigar case worth abaat
sixpence, a ticket 'at entitled me to visit all th' cricket matches
free,--but as th' season wor just endin it wor o' noa use,--an' had a
sooart ov an inklin 'at ther wor some truth i'mi father's words 'at aw
worn't old enuff to be trusted wi' brass.

Aw went to bed, an' fell asleep withaat once thinkin abaat thieves; an'
ther's noa daat 'at what yo loise i' brass yo oft tinles gain i'
knowledge, for aw niver forgate th' fate o mi furst five paand nooat.

Silly Billy.

He wor a queer sooart of a chap wor Billy--allus makkin a fooil ov
hissen or else somedy wor makkin a fooil o' him. He wor a very quiet
chap too tho ivery nah an' then he gave hissen a bit ov a leetnin' i'th'
shap ov a rant, or as he used to call it, a 'gooid brust.' It woint oft
he did that sooart o' thing, but when he did he carried it on for a wick
or a fortnit, an' altho' his father had left a nice little farm for him
an' his mother, yet it sooin dwindled to nowt, for what wi' neglectin
his wark, an' spendin a bit o' brass, it wor like a cannel lit at booath
ends, it sooin swealed up. Aw remember one day when he'd been drinkin
till his brass wor done, he coom hooam to ax his mother to give him some
moor, an' coss shoo said shoo wod'nt he declared he'd set th' lathe o'
fire; but sho wodn't give him onny, soa he went into th'