Gwenny.—o, b, hob.
Catti.—There’s a good maaid!
Gwenny.—i, b,—I can’t tell.
Catti.—Skipe it, child, skipe it—(meaning “skip it.”)
Gwenny.—u, b, cub.
Catti.—There’s a good maaid! Twm, you little wicked dog, don’t kick the child. Go on, Gwenny vach.
Twm.—(who had been struggling for some time to get from under his mother’s combs,) I want to go a fishing.
Catti.—Lord love the darling child! You’ll fall into the river and be drowned.
Twm.—Oh! no, mother; I always fish in the gutters.