"But you hav'n't many neighbours about here."
"Oh, yigh," said he. "There's th' farmer's theer; and one or two moor. An' then, there's th' 'Top o'th Wood' folk. Then there's 'Hooley Clough,' and th' 'War Office,'[51]—we can soon get to oathur o' thoose, when we want'n a bit ov an extra do.... Oh! ah; we'n plenty o' neighbours! But th' Birtle folk are a deeol on um sib an' sib, rib an' rib—o' ov a litter—Fittons an' Diggles, an' Fittons an' Diggles o'er again. An' wheer dun yo come fro, sen yo?"
We told him.
"Well," said he; "an' are yo i'th buildin' line—at aw mun be so bowd?"
We again explained the motive of our visit.
"Well," said he; "it's nought to me, at aw know on—nobbut aw're thinkin' like.... Did'n yo ever see Baemforth Ho', afore it're poo'd deawn?"
"Never."
"Eh, that're a nice owd buildin'! Th' new un hardly comes up to't, i' my e'en—as fine as it is.... An' are yo beawn back this gate, then?"
"Ay; we want to go through th' clough."
"Well; yo mun mind heaw yo gwon deawn th' wood-side; for it's a rough gate. So, good neet to yo!"