Tho. Why, childer, what have aw done, that yo cry after mo like a thief?
First Boy. Daddy Longlegs! Daddy Longlegs!
They hustle and crowd him. Re-enter BILL. THOMAS makes a rush.
They run. He seizes BILL. They gather again.
Tho. Han yo getten a mother, lad?
Bill. No, thank ye. 'Ain't got no mother. Come of a haunt, I do.
First Boy. Game!—ain't he?
Tho. Well, aw'll tak yo whoam to yor aunt—aw wull.
Bill. Will you now, old chap? Wery well. (Squats.)
Tho. (holding him up by the collar, and shaking his stick over him). Tell mo wheer's por aunt, or aw'll breyk every bone i' yor body.
Bill (wriggling and howling and rubbing his eyes with alternate sleeves). Let me go, I say. Let me go and I'll tell ye. I will indeed, sir.