I can't see to spell wi'out a candle close at my elbow.' 'Niver mind about candles.

I can bring up a candle wi' me, for I should be burning one at Alice Rose's.' So that excuse would not do.

Sylvia beat her brains for another.
'Writing cramps my hand so, I can't do any sewing for a day after; and feyther wants his shirts very bad.' 'But, Sylvia, I'll teach you geography, and ever such a vast o' fine things about t' countries, on t' map.' 'Is t' Arctic seas down on t' map ?' she asked, in a tone of greater interest.
'Yes! Arctics, and tropics, and equator, and equinoctial line; we'll take 'em turn and turn about; we'll do writing and ciphering one night, and geography t' other.' Philip spoke with pleasure at the prospect, but Sylvia relaxed into indifference.
'I'm no scholard; it's like throwing away labour to teach me, I'm such a dunce at my book.

Now there's Betsy Corney, third girl, her as is younger than Molly, she'd be a credit to you.

There niver was such a lass for pottering ower books.' If Philip had had his wits about him, he would have pretended to listen to this proposition of a change of pupils, and then possibly Sylvia might have repented making it.