“Give me another gill o’ ale,” said Sim, now deeply interested.
The landlord filled his mug for him, and went on—
“I said she were ’bout the cleanest woman in these parts, and the way she’d fettle up a place and side things was wonderful.”
“Yow needn’t ha’ been so nation fast talking ’bout my wife,” said Sim.
“I niver said nowt agen her,” said the landlord, chuckling to himself. “And then we got talking ’bout you and the chapel.”
“What did he know ’bout me and the chapel?” cried Sim, angrily.
“On’y what I towd him. I said part people went theer o’ Sabbath, and that it was a straange niste woshup.”
“Nice woshup, indeed! why you niver went theer i’ your life,” said Sim.
“I said so I’d heerd,” said the landlord, stolidly, “and then I towd him how you used to preach theer till they turned thee out.”
“What call had you to got to do that?” said Sim, viciously.