Thy feyther has been roight good to oi, and the things he sends oi up has done oi a power o' good.

Oi hoap as how they will let oi eat afore long; oi feels as if oi could hearty, but the doctor he woin't let oi." "I hope in a few days he will let you," Ned said, "and then I am sure father will send you up some nice things.

I have brought you up some of my books for you to look at the pictures." The boy looked pleased.
"Oi shall like that," Bill said; "but oi shan't know what they be about." "But I will come up every Saturday if you will let me, and tell you the stories all about them." "Willee now?
That will be main koinde o' ye." "I don't think you are strong enough to listen today," Ned said, seeing how feebly the boy spoke; "but I hope by next Saturday you will be much stronger.

And now I will say goodby, for the doctor said that I must not talk too long." So saying Ned left the cottage and made his way back to Marsden in better spirits than he had been for the last three weeks.
From that time Ned went up regularly for some weeks every Saturday to see Bill Swinton, to the great disgust of his schoolfellows, who could not imagine why he refused to join in their walks or games on those days; but he was well repaid by the pleasure which his visits afforded.
The days passed very drearily to the sick boy, accustomed as he was to a life spent entirely in the open air, and he looked forward with eager longing to Ned's visits.
On the occasion of the second visit he was strong enough to sit up in bed, and Ned was pleased to hear that his voice was heartier and stronger.

He listened with delight as Ned read through the books he had brought him from end to end, often stopping him to ask questions as to the many matters beyond his understanding, and the conversations on these points were often so long that the continuance of the reading had to be postponed until the next visit.