JOHN.
Then you look smilèn; don't you pout an' toss
Your head so much, an' look so very cross.
FANNY.
Now, John! don't squeeze me roun' the middle zoo.
I woon't stop here noo longer, if you do.
Why, John! be quiet, wull ye? Fie upon it!
Now zee how you've a-wrumpl'd up my bonnet!
Mother'ill zee it after I'm at hwome,
An' gi'e a guess directly how it come.