The following curious conversation took place between me and the deaf gaffer, aged 76, standing in the apple tree,—
"These be all appulls from Kent—I got 'em all from Kent."
"How long have you lived in C——?"
"Bunyard & Son—that's the firm—they live just outside the town of Maidstone."
"Do you keep Bees here?"
"One of these yer appulls is called Bunyard after the firm—a fine fruit too."
"Your good wife must be of great assistance to you in your work."
"Little stalks maybe, but a large juishy appull for all that."
Just then I heard Mrs. B—— saying to E——,—
"Aw yes, he's very active for 76. A little deaf, but he manages the garden all 'eesulf, I bolsters 'un up wi' meat and drink—little and often as they zay for children.... Now there's a bootifull tree, me dear, that 'as almost beared itself to death, as you may say."