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Some on 'em gets knocked up neaw an' then, an' they han to stop a-whoam a day or two; an' some on 'em connot ston gettin' weet through it mays 'em ill; an' here an' theer one turns up at doesn't like the job at o' they'd rayther clem. There is at's both willin' an' able; thoose are likely to get a better job, somewheer. There's othersome at's willin' enough, but connot ston th' racket.
If he'd coom into th' property, he'd ha' coom to see me again I'll lay a shillin', because I'm a cripple an' I canna spend his sovereign. If he'd coom back from th' Klondike, happen he'd ha' towd me about it." He pulled the atlas toward him, and laid his thin finger on the rubbed spot. "He mun ha' been killed somewheer about here," he sighed. "Somewheer here. Eh, it's funny."
I axed him how lang t' shifts lasted i' heaven, an' he said: 'We work as lang as t' inner voice tells us to. You see 'twere allus t' inner voice, an' I couldn't hardlins mak out what he meant by that. "Then a thowt com into my heead, but I didn't fairly like to out wi' it, for fear T' Man Aboon were somewheer about an' sud hear me.
Only just point it somewheer else, darlin', for thim horse-pistols is cruel fond av goin' off widout bein' fired. Thank yez, sir, it 's my wife in bed will bless the day yez was born." The man hastily raked open the bed of ashes and threw chips and billets on the embers. Then he unlocked a corner cupboard. "Oi've New England rum, corn whiskey, an' home-made apple-jack, sir."
Now, boys, dun yo know wheer's a young woman bi th' name ov Mattie somewheer abeawt Paradise Row? First Boy. Yes, old un. Second Boy. Lots on 'em. Third Boy. Which on em' do you want, Mr. Cricket? Fourth Boy. You ain't peticlar, I s'pose, old corner-bones? First Boy. Don't you fret, old stilts. We'll find you a Mattie. There's plenty on 'em all nice gals. Tho. I want mo own Mattie. First Boy.
"Neaw, Sammul," said she, "theaw'll ha' that pot upo th' floor in now, thae little pousement thae! Do keep eawt o' mischief, an' make a less din, childer, win yo: for my yed's fair maddle't wi' one thing an' another . . . Mary, tak' th' pon off th' fire, an' reach me yon hippin' off th' oondur; an' then sit tho deawn somewheer, do, thae'll be less bi th' legs."
But just then I heerd a buzzin' sound, an' I reckoned there mun be a waps somewheer about. An' a waps it were. He flew round an' round my heead, allus coomin' nearer an' nearer, an' at lang length he settled hissen reight on t' top o' my neb. An' wi' that I gav a jump, an' by Gow! there was I sittin' on t' bench in my 'lotment.
'I'd ha' yo' to know, Amos Entwistle, that I'm noan in yor catechism class, an' I'm noan baan to be. Yo' can tak' an' praitch yor rubbidge somewheer else. Yo've no occasion to come to me, I con tell yo'. And then, looking down at the reposeful little face, she kissed it, and continued, 'Did he co thee an idol, my darlin'? Ne'er heed him, owd powse ud he is!
In one cottage, where we stopped a few minutes, the old woman told us that, in addition to their own family, they had three young women living with them the orphan daughters of her husband's brother. They had been out of work thirty-four weeks, and their uncle a very poor man had been obliged to take them into his house, "till sich times as they could afford to pay for lodgin's somewheer else."
He could have hugged the crowd for sheer delight. The conductor of the singing-class weeded Paul out at the close of the first glee, and brought his musical ambitions to an end. 'Theer are at least twelve notes in an ordinary singin' voice, said the conductor, 'and theer ought to be eight half-tones scattered in among 'em, somewheer.
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