I'm cryin' all the day, as though I got my livin' wi' skinnin' onions.

Relieve me, my dear, or my feelin's will be too much for me.

They be fillin' me faster 'n I can dispose of 'em; and if you don't leave that 'ere coachman and smile on me, I shall either go up like a baloon, or else there'll be a case of combustion.' I went on in that 'ere style, yer know, thinkin' she'd melt like a h'yster in a fryin'-pan, but she didn't; and the next thing I hears wus that the coachman wur at the willage alehouse readin' my letter.

Since then I've guv up the tender passion and guv up writin' letters." "Well, you have had bad luck, Simon; but perhaps you'll be more fortunate next time.

Mr.Temple tells me you have something to tell me about the ghost.