If you weant, you weant; I've tek'n 'ee back, an' us must fit and make the best o't.

The cheeld'll never be good for much--born lame like that.

But 'twas to be, I s'pose." Lizzie sat dumb, but hugged the bundle closer.
"'Tis like a judgment.

If your mother'd been spared, 'twudn' have happened.

But 'twas to be, I s'pose.