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An' yo've naw 'scuse for disgracin' yoresel. Yo was brought oop ralegious an' respactable. Did yo aver 'ear saw mooch aa a bad woord?" "It's doon, Moother, it's doon. There's naw good taalkin'." "Eh! Yo saay it's doon, it's doon, an' yo think nowt o' 't. An' nowt yo think o' t' trooble yo're brengin' on mae. I sooppawse yo'll be tallin' mae naxt yo looved 'im! Yo looved'im!"

It just come to my lips in the way o' tallin'. Of course I don't know nothin' about the young woman myself; it's only what you comes to 'ear in the way o' talkin', you know. This apology was doubtless produced by the listener's troubled countenance. Jane asked no further question, but said she would come to see Pennyloaf on the morrow, and so took her leave.

"No," she said. "It won't be like that. It won't, really. If my father won't let my sister marry Dr. Rowcliffe, you don't suppose he'll let me marry you? It makes it more impossible than ever. That's what I came to tell you." "It's naw use yo're tallin' mae. I won't hear it." He bent to her. "Ally d'yo knaw we're aloan here?" "Yes, Jim."

There'll be a bit got hin, if we've good luck. And he says, 'Eh, ye may be raight, there's noo tallin', he says, and I knowed by that" here Mr. Casson gave a wink "as he didn't come from a hundred mile off. I daresay he'd think me a hodd talker, as you Loamshire folks allays does hany one as talks the right language." "The right language!" said Bartle Massey, contemptuously.

I've soomthing to saay to yo', Essy." "There's nat mooch good yo're saayin' anything, Jim. I knaw all yo' 'ave t' saay." "Yo'll 'ave t' 'ear it, Essy, whether yo' knaw it or not. They're tallin' mae I ought to marry yo'." Essy's eyes flashed. "Who's tallin' yo'?" "T' Vicar, for woon." "T' Vicar!