How wil un ever baide aboard zhip, wi' the watter zinging out under un, and comin' up splash when the wind blow.

Latt un goo, missus, latt un goo, zay I for wan, and old Davy wash his clouts for un.' And this discourse of Betty's tended more than my mother's prayers, I fear, to keep me from going.

For I hated Betty in those days, as children always hate a cross servant, and often get fond of a false one.

But Betty, like many active women, was false by her crossness only; thinking it just for the moment perhaps, and rushing away with a bucket; ready to stick to it, like a clenched nail, if beaten the wrong way with argument; but melting over it, if you left her, as stinging soap, left along in a basin, spreads all abroad without bubbling.
But all this is beyond the children, and beyond me too for that matter, even now in ripe experience; for I never did know what women mean, and never shall except when they tell me, if that be in their power.

Now let that question pass.