‘Aw durnd know as onybody feels it but thisel, lad,’ replied his mother; ‘but thaa con go i' th' garden, if thaa wants to cool a bit. Tea's happen made thee sweat.’
Then followed another painful pause, in which Miriam unconsciously doubled up a spoon, on seeing which the old woman reminded her that her ‘siller wurnd for marlockin' wi' i' that fashion’; and no sooner had she administered this rebuke than Matt overturned his tea.
‘Are yo' two reet i' yor yeds (heads)?’ snapped his mother. ‘Yo' sit theer gawmless-like, one on yo' breakin' th' spoons, and t'other turnin' teacups o'er. What's come o'er yo'?’
‘Mother,’ stammered Matt, ‘Miriam has summat to tell yo'.’
‘Nay, lad, thaa may tell it thisel,’ said Miriam.
‘Happen thaa cornd for shame, Miriam,’ stammered Matt.
‘I durnd know as I've ought to be ashamed on, but it seems as though thaa hedn't th' pluck.’
The old woman grew impatient, and, supposing she was being fooled, rose from the table, and said:
‘I want to know noan o' your secrets. I durnd know as I ever axed for 'em, and if yo' wait till aw do, I shall never know 'em.’