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G. You've mistaken somebody for him. Th. Well, aw'm beawn to tell tho moore. Twothre days ago, aw seigh mo chylt coom eawt ov this same dur aw mane th' heawsedur, yon. Col. G. Are you sure of that? Th. Sure as death. Aw seigh her back. Col. G. Her back! Who could be sure of a back? Th. By th' maskins! dosto think I dunnot know mo Mattie's back? I seign her coom eawt o' that dur, aw tell tho! Col.

"Then I suppose you pay tribute to Mother Chattox, hostess?" cried Potts, "butter, eggs, and milk from the farm, ale and wine from the cellar, with a flitch of bacon now and then, ey?" "Nay, by th' maskins! ey gi' her nowt," cried Bess. "Then you bribe Mother Demdike, and that comes to the same thing," said Potts.

Thomas. "Whau, but I startit up to goa to th' tits, on slurr'd deawn to th' lower part o' th' heymough, on by th' maskins, lord! whot dust think? boh leet hump stridd'n up o' summot ot felt meety heury, on it startit weh meh on its back, deawn th' lower part o' th' mough it jumpt, crost th' leath, eaw't o' th' dur whimmey it took, on into th' weturing poo, os if th' dule o' hell had driv'n it, on there it threw meh en, or I fell off, I connaw tell whether, for th' life o' meh, into the poo."

"By th' maskins, lass, ey conna tell," replied Blackrod; "boh whotever it be, ey'll protect ye." "Tak care o' me, Phil," ejaculated Nancy Holt, pressing close to her lover's side. "Eigh, that I win," rejoined the forester. "Ey dunna care for ghosts so long as yo are near me, Phil," said Nancy, tenderly. "Then ey'n never leave ye, Nance," replied Phil.