An’ I niver knaw’d what a mean’d, but I thowt a ’ad summut to saay,
An’ I thowt a said whot a owt to a said, an’ I coom’d awaay.
Here, for instance, is a melancholy epigram on Manchester as a city, where sane human pleasure should be catered for by the rulers and governors. It occurred in the cross-examination of a workman by that excellent advocate, Mr. Hockin. He was seeking to show that the witness was not present at the works when an accident to which he was testifying had happened.
“But I think that you said you had a holiday that day.”
“I had an aw!”
“Do you mean to tell the Court,” asked Hockin,
in his most archdeacon-like manner, “that you came back to the works when you might have been enjoying a holiday?”
“Certainly,” replied the witness.
“Why did you do that?” asked Hockin, with a touch of triumph in his voice as if there was no possible explanation.
The reply was only too obviously truthful.