“I lay I haven’t. All’s here; an’ ’t is a gert wonder what a lot o’ gude things us have got. They did ought to fetch a couple o’ hunderd pound at least, if the sale’s carried out proper.”
“They didn’t cost so much as that.”
“By Gor! Didn’t they? Well, set out in full, like this here, they do sound as if they ought to be worth it. Now, I’ll read ’em to see how it all sounds in spoken words.”
He cleared his throat and began:
“‘Sale this day to Newtake Farm, near Chagford, Dartmoor, Devonshire. Mr. William Blanchard, being about to leave England for foreign parts, desires to sell at auction his farm property, household goods, cloam, and effects, etc., etc., as per items below, to the best bidder. Many things so good as new.’ How do ’e like that, Phoebe?”
“Butivul; but do ’e mean in all solemn seriousness to go out England? ’T is a awful thought, come you look at it close.”
“Ess, ’t is a gert, bold thing to do; but I doan’t fear it. I be gettin’ into a business-like way o’ lookin’ ’pon life of late; an’ I counts the cost an’ moves arter, as is the right order. Listen to these items set out here. If they ’m printed big, wan under t’other, same as I’ve wrote ’em, they’ll fill a barn door purty nigh!”
Then he turned to his papers.
“‘The said goods and chattels are as follows, namely,’—reg’lar lawyer’s English, you see, though how I comed to get it so pat I caan’t tell. Yet theer ’tis—‘namely, 2 washing trays; 3 zinc buckets; 1 meat preserve; 1 lantern; 2 bird-cages; carving knife and steel (Sheffield make)—’”
“Do’e judge that’s the best order, Will?”