That wor a rum skit!--now I think on 't.
Sich a seet he wor! He came by here six o'clock i' th' mornin.

I found him hangin ower t' yard gate theer, as white an slamp as a puddin cloth oop on eend; an I browt him in, an was for gien him soom tay.

An yor aunt, she gien him a warld o' good advice about his gooins on.

But bless yo, he didn't tak in a word o' 't.

An for th' tay, he'd naw sooner swallowed it than he runs out, as quick as leetnin, an browt it aw up.