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"Guv a whoop, like a Government Injun," suggested "General" Nix; "an' thet'll let ther critter know thet we be friends a-comin'. Par'ps she'm g'in out ontirely, a-thinkin' as no one war a-comin' ter her resky!" "She, you say?" "Yas, she; fer I calkylate 'twern't no he as made them squawks.
"I was in a bit o' a mullock," Private James Akroyd's letter went on, "t' last time we were i' t' trenches; 'twern't mich to tell abaat, but 'twere hot while it lasted. There's lads says I'm baan to get a V.C. But don't thou hark tul 'em; V.C.'s are noan for t' likes o' me. "Jim." "Is that all?" asked Annie, as her mother folded up the letter.
"Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle?" Lizzie knew nothing about pleasantry, and was not put out by my frivolous question. "'Twern't nowther o' them places," she continued; "'twere Leeds Town Hall. Mother read it out o' t' paper that he was comin' to Leeds to go round t' munition works, and would have his dinner wi' t' Lord Mayor.
'Twern't nuffin laik dat." "But what was it? Your hand is hurt!" "Well, Massa Tom, I s'pose I done bettah tell yo' all. I'se had a shock!" "A shock?" "Yas, sah. A shock. A lickrish shock." "Oh, you mean an electrical shock. That's too bad. I suppose you must have touched a live wire." "No, sah. 'Twern't dat way." "How was it, then?" "Well, yo' see, Massa Tom, I were playin' a joke on Koku."
Eh! country lads an' lasses are downright gauvies, sure enough." "Nay, 'twern't a proper doll, nowther. 'Twere t' mell-sheaf, t' last sheaf o' t' harvist, drissed up i' t' farmer's smock, wi' ribbins set all ower it. A bonnie seet was t' mell-doll, an' if I could nobbut set een on yan agean, I'd be happy for a twelmonth." "You'll see no more mell-dolls, mother, so long as you bide wi' me.
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