XVIII

Mew! mew!—Bess wi' the milk! what ha maäde our Molly sa laäte?

It should 'a been 'ere by seven, an' theere—it be strikin' height—

'Cushie wur craäzed fur'er cauf' well—I 'eärd 'er a maäkin' 'er moän,

An' I thowt to mysen 'thank God that I hevn't naw cauf o' my oän.'

Theere!

Set it down!

Now Robby!

You Tommies shall waäit to-night

Till Robby an' Steevie 'es 'ed their lap—an' it sarves ye right.