'_I_ don't keep udder foaks' childer fur nothin.' 'Yo've had moor nor they cost for seven year,' said Reuben, with the same thick tense utterance.

'Yo should let Davy ha it, an gie him a trade.' Hannah walked up to the door and shut it.
'I should, should I?
An who'll pay for Louie--for your luvely limb of a niece?
It 'ud tak about that,' and she pointed grimly to the drawer, 'to coover what she wastes an spiles i' t' yeer.' 'Yo get her work, Hannah.

Her bit and sup cost yo most nothin.

I cud wark a bit moor--soa cud yo.

Yo're hurtin me i' mi conscience, Hannah--yo're coomin atwixt me an th' Lord!' He brought a shaking hand down on the damask table-cloth among the wool mats and the chapel hymn-books which adorned it.