'Thousands, Howel! why hundreds wasn't plenty with us, let alone thousands. You do know that there don't be any wan so rich as you in our parts.'
'So I am, mother, or rather shall be by-and-by. I have lived beyond my income, but I am going to retrench, and if you could only lend me five or six thousands pounds, it would set me right, and I could pay you again in a month.'
'Five or six thousand! Why, Howel, I 'ouldn't know how to get it; and I don't cheuse to be reuining myself, and bringing myself down again for nobody.'
'Not even for me, mother? To save me from jail, perhaps! Ha! ha! I'm sure you wouldn't like to see me in jail; and 'pon my honour I don't know how I shall keep out of it unless you help me.'
'And where's the thousands and hundreds of thousands your father was leaving you? Ten years ago come next Jeune he did die, my poor Griffey.'
'Now, mother, don't humbug me about that. You know you were glad enough. Only let me have the money, unless you want me to leave the country, never to come back.'
'Ach an wyr! How you be talking. You wos frightening me to death. I 'ouldn't mind lending you a few hundreds, but—'
'Hundreds won't do, mother. I must have five thousand six hundred before this week is out, or else—It is impossible you could be cruel enough to see your only son in distress, and not help him out of it.'
'I have been helping you all your life, Howel. I could lend you wan thousand, and no more, and if you'll promise to be paying me soon.'
'One thousand six hundred, mother, I must have that at least.'