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"Aye, sure; but wunna ye come in, Adam? Miss Mary's i' th' house, and Mester Burge 'ull be back anon; he'd be glad t' ha' ye to supper wi'm, I'll be's warrand." "No, Dolly, thank you; I'm off home. Good evening." Adam hastened with long strides, Gyp close to his heels, out of the workyard, and along the highroad leading away from the village and down to the valley.
He took a score or so away wi'm, and he took my phootoo and I told him a sight o' things, thinkin' he was a gennleman. Well, he axed me round to Marine Parade, where he was a stayin' with his lady, and he give me one drink o' whisky. And that's all I see of him. He was off with the letters and all, and never gave me a farden for what he had or what he l'arnt off o' me.
Fripp, said the Vicar, 'I didn't know you had such a fine pig. You'll have some rare flitches at Christmas! 'Eh, God forbid! My son gev him me two 'ear ago, an' he's been company to me iver sin'. I couldn't find i' my heart to part wi'm, if I niver knowed the taste o' bacon-fat again. 'Why, he'll eat his head off, and yours too. How can you go on keeping a pig, and making nothing by him?
"Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, And sair wi' his love he did deave me: I said there was naething I hated like men The deuce gae wi'm to believe'me, believe me, The deuce gae wi'm to believe me." The rooms were hushed as the merry song rang out. The voice of the singer was arch, and her eye flashed slyly on Abel Newt as she finished, and a murmur of pleasure rose around her.
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