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'Dang it, thee bean't afeard o' schoolmeasther's takkin cold, I hope? 'N-no, said Smike, his teeth chattering in his head. 'But he brought me back before, and will again. He will, he will indeed. 'He wull, he wull! replied John impatiently. 'He wean't, he wean't. Look'ee!
Smike looked vacantly at him, as if unable to comprehend his meaning. 'I say, coot awa', repeated John, hastily. 'Dost thee know where thee livest? Thee dost? Weel. Are yon thy clothes, or schoolmeasther's? 'Mine, replied Smike, as the Yorkshireman hurried him to the adjoining room, and pointed out a pair of shoes and a coat which were lying on a chair.
'Not a bit, replied the Yorkshireman, extending his mouth from ear to ear. 'There I lay, snoog in schoolmeasther's bed long efther it was dark, and nobody coom nigh the pleace. "Weel!" thinks I, "he's got a pretty good start, and if he bean't whoam by noo, he never will be; so you may coom as quick as you loike, and foind us reddy" that is, you know, schoolmeasther might coom.
'I might ha' knowa'd, said John, 'that nobody but thou would ha' coom wi' sike a knock as you. Thot was the wa' thou knocked at schoolmeasther's door, eh? Ha, ha, ha! But I say; wa'at be a' this aboot schoolmeasther? 'You know it then? said Nicholas. 'They were talking aboot it, doon toon, last neeght, replied John, 'but neane on 'em seemed quite to un'erstan' it, loike.
'I dinnot know whether thou'd ever dreamt of it, though I think that's loike eneaf, mind, retorted John; 'but thou didst it. "Ye're a feeckle, changeable weathercock, lass," says I. "Not feeckle, John," says she. "Yes," says I, "feeckle, dom'd feeckle. Dinnot tell me thou bean't, efther yon chap at schoolmeasther's," says I. "Him!" says she, quite screeching.
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