“Thee nistn’t hoopy at I—I can hyar as well as thee,” he growled.
“A paason wants to see thee.”
“Axe un in.”
“Come in, you!” shouted the old hag, without going to the door. “Shall I put thee jug away?” This to Andrew, and meaning the jug of weak gin-and-water which he kept constantly by him to sip.
“Let un bide.”
Felix St. Bees came into the room. He had ridden up to ask for the hand of May, his darling. It was not a reception to encourage a lover.
“Good afternoon, sir,” said Felix.
“Arternoon to ee.” To Jane, “Who be it?”
“Dunno.”
“What’s your wull wi’ I?”