‘Thaa's more Scripture larning abaat thee nor I thought thaa had,’ said Amos, withdrawing his wrinkled face from the depths of a can out of which he was drinking tea. ‘But it's noan knowledge 'at saves, Dan; th' devils believe and tremble.’
‘But I noan tremble, Amos; I geet too mich brimstone i' yon fire hoile to be flayed at what yo' say is “resarved” for them as isn't called.’
(Dan's occupation was to feed the boiler fires.)
‘If thaa'rt noan flayed, that doesn't say thaa hasn't a devil,’ replied Amos, again raising the can to his lips.
‘Well, I'm noan to blame if a' cornd help miself, am I?’
But Amos remained silent.
‘Aw say, Amos,’ said a thoughtful-looking man, ‘aw often wonder if thaa'll be content when thaa geets up aboon to see us lot in t'other shop.’
‘Yi! and when we ax him, as th' rich mon axed Lazarus, for a sooap (drink) of summat cool, it'll be hard lines, wirnd (will not) it, owd lad, when thaa cornd help us?’ asked the man who sat against him.
‘Happen it will,’ replied Amos. ‘But thaa knows there'll be no sharin' baggin (tea or refreshment) there. Them as hed oil couldn't gi' it to them as hed noan.’
‘Then thaa'll not come across the gulf and help us, Amos?’