Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/148

 D'ya moind the waäste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was not born then; Theer wur a boggle in it, I often 'eerd un mysén; Moäst loike a butter-bump, for I 'eerd un aboot an' aboot, But I stubb'd un oop wi' the lot, an' raäved an' rembled un oot.

Keäper's it wur; fo' they fun un theer a-laäid on 'is faäce Doon i' the woild 'enemies afoor I comed to the plaäce. Noäks or Thimbleby—toner 'ed shot un as deäd as a naäil. Noäks wur 'ang'd for it opp at 'soize—but git ma my yaäle.