"C'an ta raik th' valve," sed his uncle.
"Eea, but aw cannot stir it unless yo send me a hammer daan."
"Well, stop thear wol aw fotch one, an' aw'll lower it daan wi' a bit o' band." An' away he ran to th' bottom o'th' next held for a hammer. He'd getten abaaf hauf way daan, when up comes another looad o' watter, drawn bi two horses, an' two men wi' em.
"This'll be my last looad to-day, Jeffry," sed one to his mate.
"An' aw'm glad on it," sed Jeffry; "aw wonder if th' gaffer's getten th' valve altered yet; he wor sayin' summat abaat it when aw coom wi' th' last barrel."
"Aw can't say, aw'm sure; but another barrelful can't mak soa mich difference, whether he has or net, soa here goas." As sooin as he sed that, he knocked a gurt bung aght o'th' back o'th' barrel, an a stream as thick as mi leg began paarin daan th' well. It wor a gooid job for Jack 'at he happened to be claspin his arms raand th' pipe, for if he hadn't he'd ha' been swum ovver th' heead, an' noa mistak; an' as it wor, he could hardly get a bit o' breeath, for th' watter seemed to spreead aght like a sheet, an drive all th' air aght. He did try to shaat once or twice, but it wor noa use, for th' watter made sich a din wol nubdy could hear him.
It didn't tak th' uncle aboon three or four minits to fotch th' hammer, an' as he war comin with it he saw this wattercart bein emptied into th' well, an' his heart gave ovver beeatin for abaat a minit; then he set up sich a shaat, an' ran at sich a speed, wol th' chaps wondered what could be to do. "Hold on!" he sed, "for goodness sake, hold on! Didn't yo know 'at my neffy wor i'th' well?" "Noa bi th' heart did we!" an' th' barrel wor bunged up in a crack, an' th' uncle bawled daan th' well as laad as he could, "Jack, if tha'rt draanded spaik! He's deead sure enuff," he said; "one on yo goa daan an' see if yo con bring up his body." Just then coom a saand o' summat knockin th' pipe at th' bottom, an' th' uncle called aght, "Jack, whear are ta?"
"Aw should think yo've a gooid nooation whear aw am," sed Jack, "aw've managed th' job, soa nah aw'm comin up; luk aght an' give me a lift." As sooin as his heead wor within th' raich ov his uncle's fist, he collared hold ov his toppin, an niver let goa agean wol he stood o' safe graand. "By gow, Jack, tha's given me a shock; awst be some time afoor aw get ovver this; tha owt to manage better nor soa; it's like as if ivery thing tha touches tha maks a mess on it."
"That's reight, uncle, lig it o' me! But aw wonder whether yo or me gate th' mooast ov a shock. Aw should fancy it wor me."
"Well, reight enuff, lad, it wor'nt a nice place to be in, an' that suit o' clooas 'll niver be fit to be seen agean."