Wa'at did 'ee come here for, then ?' 'He brought me; oh! he brought me,' cried Smike.
'Brout thee!' replied John.

'Why didn't 'ee punch his head, or lay theeself doon and kick, and squeal out for the pollis?
I'd ha' licked a doozen such as him when I was yoong as thee.

But thee be'est a poor broken-doon chap,' said John, sadly, 'and God forgi' me for bragging ower yan o' his weakest creeturs!' Smike opened his mouth to speak, but John Browdie stopped him.
'Stan' still,' said the Yorkshireman, 'and doant'ee speak a morsel o' talk till I tell'ee.' With this caution, John Browdie shook his head significantly, and drawing a screwdriver from his pocket, took off the box of the lock in a very deliberate and workmanlike manner, and laid it, together with the implement, on the floor.
'See thot ?' said John 'Thot be thy doin'.

Noo, coot awa'!' Smike looked vacantly at him, as if unable to comprehend his meaning.
'I say, coot awa',' repeated John, hastily.

'Dost thee know where thee livest?
Thee dost?
Weel.