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"Who are they?" "Oh, I vork by many place make garten und vork wit' horses, und so. Meesus Craikmile, I vork by her on garten. She iss dere no more." The young man paused suddenly in his stride. "Gone? Where is she gone?" "Oh, she iss by ol' country gone. Her man iss gone mit." They walked on. "What! Is the Elder gone, too?" "Yas. You know heem, yas?" "Oh, yes. I know everybody here.
He wouldn't break any stair-climbin' records in an amateur contest, though, and when he does puff on to the last landin' he's purple behind the ears and ain't got breath enough left to make any kind of speech. So I tackles another interview with Helma. "No," says she; "Meesus not coom yet." "Ah, ditch the perjury stuff, Helma," says I. "Didn't we just follow her in?"
'I wor over to Exeford in the morning, John began from the chimney-corner, looking straight at Annie; 'for to zee a little calve, Jan, as us cuddn't get thee to lave houze about. Meesus have got a quare vancy vor un, from wutt her have heer'd of the brade. Now zit quite, wull 'e Miss Luzzie, or a 'wunt goo on no vurder. Vaine little tayl I'll tull' ee, if so be thee zits quite.
I offers to run in and see if Auntie is back yet, but he won't have it. "Just lead the way, that's all," says he. "Oh, very well," says I. And when Helma, the maid, has used up all her hyphenated English in assurin' us that "Meesus" is still out, I rubs it in by shruggin' my shoulders and glancin' knowin' at him. "Mees Verona, she coom," suggests Helma.
"I wor over to Exeford in the morning," John began from the chimney-corner, looking straight at Annie; "for to zee a little calve, Jan, as us cuddn't get thee to lave houze about. Meesus have got a quare vancy vor un, from wutt her have heer'd of the brade. Now zit quite, wull 'e Miss Luzzie, or a 'wunt goo on no vurder. Vaine little tayl I'll tull' ee, if so be thee zits quite.
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