“In yon petticoat thing?” queried Mr. Prescott, pointing at Ewen’s kilt.
“He shall have thy great-coat ti cover him oop.”
“Ah dunno hoo he’ll get intiv it, then,” returned Mr. Prescott. “See ye, Robert, Ah’d sooner he had a horse blanket than split ma coat.”
“He can have t’ loan of ma coat then,” said Mr. Fosdyke. “He’ll not split that.—Beasts all reet oop there?” he enquired.
“As reet as ivver they’ll be,” returned his partner with gloom.
“Ah knawed as we peed too mooch for them,” growled Mr. Fosdyke in a voice like subterranean thunder. “Goviment notice saays—well, nivver moind what, but ’twere main different fra what t’ cattle were loike. Hooivver, Ah weren’t comin’ all the way fra t’ other soide o’ York for nowt.”
“York?” asked Ewen with his mouth full, since this information seemed addressed to him. “You come from York, sir.”
“Fra near by. Dost thou knaw the toon?”
“No,” said Ewen.
“T’ sogers werena takin’ thee there yistiday?”