But; ya jest look 'ere, mum, what's a man to du wi' a daft thingamy like _that_, as caan't teak a plain order, and spiles a poor man's business as caan't help hissel' ?' And Mr.Backhouse pointed with withering scorn to a small, shrunken old man, who sat dangling his legs on the shaft of the cart, and whose countenance wore a singular expression of mingled meekness and composure, as his partner flourished an indignant finger toward him.
'Jim,' cried Mrs.Thornburgh reproachfully, 'I did think you would have taken more pains about my order!' 'Yis, mum,'said the old man, placidly, 'ya might 'a' thowt it.

I's reet sorry, but ya caan't help these things _sum_times--an' it's naw gud hollerin' ower 'em like a mad bull.

Aa tuke yur bit paper to Randall's and aa laft it wi' 'em to mek up, an' than, aa weel, aa went to a frind, an' ee _may_ hev giv' me a glass of yale, aa doon't say ee _dud_--but ee may, I ween't sweer.

Hawsomiver, aa niver thowt naw mair aboot it, nor mair did John, so _ee_ needn't taak--till we wur jest two mile from 'ere.

An' ee's a gon' on sence! My! an' a larroping the poor beast like onything.' Mrs.Thornburgh stood aghast at the calmness of this audacious recital.
As for John, he looked on, surveying his brother's philosophical demeanor at first with speechless wrath, and then with an inscrutable mixture of expressions, in which, however, any one accustomed to his weather-beaten countenance would have probably read a hidden admiration.
'Weel, aa niver!' he exclaimed, when Jim's explanatory remarks had come to an end, swinging himself up on to his seat and gathering up the reins.