My husban's a collier.

Well, first he wur brought whoam wi' three ribs broken--aw wur lyin' in when they brought him whoam.

An' then, at after that, he geet his arm broken; an' soon after he'd getten o'er that, he wur nearly brunt to deeath i' one o'th pits at Ratcliffe; an' aw haven't quite done yet, for, after that, he lee ill o'th rheumatic fayver sixteen week.

That o' happen't i' two years' time.

It's God's truth, maister.