Col. G. You ought to have asked that outside. How did you get in?
Th. By th' dur-hole. Iv yo leave th' dur oppen, th' dogs'll coom in.
Col. G. I must speak to Martha again. She will leave the street-door open!—Well, you needn't look so frightened. It ain't a robbers' cave.
Th. That be more'n aw knaw—not for sartin sure, maister. Nobory mun keawnt upon nobory up to Lonnon, they tells mo. But iv a gentleman axes mo into his heawse, aw'm noan beawn to be afeard. Aw'll coom in, for mayhap yo can help mo. It be a coorous plaze. What dun yo mak here?
Col. G. What would you think now?
Th. It looks to mo like a mason's shed—a greight one.
Col. G. You're not so far wrong.
Th. (advancing). It do look a queer plaze. Aw be noan so sure abeawt it. But they wonnot coot mo throat beout warnin'. Aw'll bother noan. (Sits down on the dais and wipes his face.) Well, aw be a'most weary.
Col. G. Is there anything I can do for you?
Th. Nay, aw donnot know; but beout aw get somebory to help mo, aw dunnot think aw'll coom to th' end in haste. Aw're a lookin' for summut aw've lost, mou.