‘“Yi!” aw sez, “yo' con get me th' flaar aw want.”
‘“Which is it?” said hoo. “Is it one o' those lilies mi faither geet fro' th' hall?”
‘“Nowe,” aw said; “it didn't come fro' th' hall; it awlus grow'd here.”
‘“Well, if thaa'll tell me which it is, thaa shall hev it; where abaats is it?”
‘Mr. Penrose, did yo' ever try an' shap' your mouth to tell a lass as yo' luved hir?’
Mr. Penrose remained silent.
‘Well, if ever yo' did, then yo' know haa aw felt when hoo axed me where th' flaar were as aw wanted. Aw couldn't for shame to tell her. Then hoo turned on me an' said:
‘“If thaa'll tell me where the flaar is I'll give it thee, but don't stand grinnin' theer.”
‘Then aw plucked up like. Aw said: “Aw think thaa knows where th' flaar is, Betty. An' as thaa said I mun hev it, I'll tak' it.” And I gave her a kuss on th' cheek 'at were nearest to me.’