“No, at the Pole. You don’t think there’s a wooden pole there, do you?”
“Ay. Andra says she’s a creat pig pole, an’ ta wairld turns roond and roond upon her.”
“The world turns round and round; but there’s no wooden pole, only one spot they call the Pole.”
“An’ ye can see the sun go roond like tat, Meester Stevey?”
“You could if you could get there. Nobody has ever been so far north. I don’t think anybody has been so far before as this.”
“Then how do they know?”
“Oh, by calculations and books.”
“She dinna pelieve it.”
“Oh, it’s quite true, though.”
“What, tat ta sun coes roond like tat?”