Jim kept a still tongue in his bead an' crept quietly into bed, an' it worn't long befoor they wor booath asleep.
Nah, it wor varry near time for th' polieeman to come to wakken Broddington, an' as he knew nowt abaat th' flittin he luck'd up at th' sign, an' feelin sure at he wor at th' reight shop he gave a varry gooid rat-a-tat at Clarkson's door.
"What's that?" sed his wife, jumpin up; "go daan and see."
"Net aw," sed Clarkson, "its nobbut some druffen chaps 'at's on for a spree."
"Eea, an they know whear to come it seems! A'a, if aw wor a man aw should shame to have sich like followin me."
Another rat-a-tat followed, but Clarkson wor detarmined not to get up, an' th' policeman wor just as detarmined to pail at th' door till he did get up. Rat-a-tat! rat-a-tat! went his stick time after time, wol at last old Clarkson baanced aght o' bed an threw up his winder, an' axed what he wanted; but when he saw a blue coat an' shinin buttons, he turned raand to his wife an' sed, "It's a bobby."
"Why," shoo says, "ax him what he wants."
"What does ta want?" sed Clarkson.
"Nah, then, is noa gooid tryin' to mak it strange; tha knows aw've come here for that whisky, an' awmean to have it befoor aw goa."
"O, that's it, is it?" sed his wife. "That's thee 'at's browt me th' whisky? It's grand to bring a wife whisky an' ax a policeman to come sup it."