He shoved th' umbrella under his arm, an' held aght his hand, "Gooid bye hont, wol aw see yo agean." "Confaand thy stupid heead!" shaated aght th' uncle.
"What's up nah?" sed Jack.
"Can't ta see? Tha's shoved th' end o' that umberella stick reight into mi e'e."
"Why, awm varry sooary," sed Jack, "but it mud ha' been war!"
"Ha could it ha' been war, softheead?"
"Why if awd shoved it into' em booath," sed Jack as he hooked it, for he thowt he'd better be goin.
Whether he landed hooam withaat ony moor mishaps or net aw cannot say; but varry likely net. But aw think, we've follow'd him far enuff for once, an' yo can form yor own opinion ov what sooart ov a chap he wor, but altho we're inclined to laugh at sich a chap, yet they've happen as mich wisdom as some 'at think they've moor; an' a chap's moor to be envied nor pitied 'at can console hissen wi' thinkin 'at haiver bad things are, 'at they mud hai been war.
Ha a Dead Donkey Towt a Lesson.
Respectfully dedicated to my ill-used long-eared friend,