He'd ben thinkin', 'fore 'a cud onderstaand them, that what they'd be talkin' about to ayche awther wed be somethin' cureyus an' mighty cliver, all sorts o' strange owld saycrets, s'pose. But 'a found, when 'a come to spayke their language, that instead o' tellin' 'bout haypes o' treasures, an' hunted housen, an' owld queer ways, they was all the time talkin' 'bout their mait or their nestes, an' awther silly jabber like that.
So 'a was mighty disappointed, an' got very law-sperrited, though 'a dedn' like to confess it to the witch.
An' now, thinks the youngster, he'd like to go home agen: an' shaw off 'fore the nayburs, s'pose.
"Well, thee cust go," says the owld witch, grinnin'.
"An' what must I pay'ee for taychin' me?" says the youngster.
"Nawthin', sonny! Nawthin' at all!" says the witch. "I shall git me reward in a way o' me awn."
An' weth that 'a bust out laughin' agen.
Well, anyway, the lad, accordin' to the story, wished un "good-bye," an' trudged off home.
But aw! poor dear! when 'a got to Zennor 'a nigh 'pon brok 'es heart weth grief.
He'd ben livin' all alone weth the owld black witch, an' 'a hadn' took no note of what was passin', an' 'a thought 'a was still a youngster, simmin'ly: 'stead o' which 'a was graw'd to an owld, owld man, weth no more pith in 'es bones than a piskey; an' 'a cud hardly manage to crawl to Zennor, 'a was so owld an' palchy[J], an' nigh 'pon blind.