Yo do 'em a mischeef whaniver yo can--an I'll not have it.' He turned his handsome, regular face, crimsoned by his position and splashed by the water, towards her with an indignant air.

She laughed, and sat herself down again on the grass, looking a very imp of provocation.
'They're stupid,' she said, shortly.

'They mak yo a stupid gonner ony ways.' 'Oh! do they ?' he retorted, angrily.

'Bit I'll be even wi yo.

I'll tell yo noa moor stories out of 'em, not if yo ast iver so.' The girl's mouth curled contemptuously, and she began to gather her primroses into a bunch with an air of the utmost serenity.