"Can yo' give me a bed ?" says he, panting like, after a bit.

"A chap as a met near here says as yo've a lodging for t' let." "Ay," says a, "a ha' that; but yo' mun pay me a shilling a week for 't." Then my mind misgive me, for a thought he hadn't a shilling i' t' world, an' yet if he hadn't, a should just ha' gi'en him t' bed a' t' same: a'm not one as can turn a dog out if he comes t' me wearied o' his life.

So he outs wi' a shillin', an' lays it down on t' table, 'bout a word.
"A'll not trouble yo' long," says he.

"A'm one as is best out o' t' world," he says.

Then a thought as a'd been a bit hard upon him.