leeast they thowt soa,
but they had to have a taste o' trubble like th' rest o' fowk.

They'd noa childer, nor onny signs o' onny, but they had a bull pup. It
wor a gooid job i' one respect at they had this pup, for if they hadn't
aw should ha been short ov a subject to write abaat.

Whether it had etten summat at upset it stummack, or whether it grew
sick o' seein them fondlin an messin wi one another aw dooant know, but
ther's noa daat abaat it bein sick.

This didn't bother Bob varry mich;--men havn't sich tender feelins as
wimmin, but Angelina, (that wor wife's name, but her husband called her
Angel) wor i' sooar trubble. Shoo gave it castor oil, an
hippi-kick-yor-Anna, an coddled it up i' flannel, an cried ovver it, an
when Bob coom hooam to his drinkin, an grumeld becoss it worn't ready,
shoo called him a hard hearted infidel.

Bob didn't quite like it, but seein at shoo wor soa put abaght, he made
shift wi sich things as wor handy, an then tuk his share o' nursin wol
Angel cook'd a beefsteak for hersen.

But i' spite ov all they could do, it just fittered once an gave a
farewell yelp, and deed. It wor a sorrowful neet. Whether they lost onny
sleep ovver it aw dooan't know, but next mornin Angelina sed shoo'd "had
its voice ringin in her ears all th' neet, an shoo thowt shoo'd nivver
get ovver th' loss on it."

"Oh, we'st get ovver it i' time," sed Bob, "it nobbut cost ten an
sixpence, an when aw get mi wage advanced aw'll buy another."

Angelina made noa reply to what shoo considered a varry unfeelin remark,
an for th' furst time durin ther wedded life shoo began to suspect at
Bob wor noa better nor th' rest o' fowk.

"What mun we do wi th' little darlin?" shoo axt.

"Why, chuck it i'th middin," sed Bob, an then seein a luk ov horror coom
ovver her face, "unless tha intends to have it stuffed, or mak sawsiges
on it."

This wor moor nor Angelina could stand, an sinkin into th' rockin cheer,
shoo wod ha fainted reight away, but happenin to see th' clock, shoo saw
it wor time for Bob to start for his wark, an he couldn't stop to bring
her raand, soa shoo had to pospone faintin till another time.

"Happen awd better bury it i'th garden," he sed, "it willn't tak a
minnit."

"E'e! nay!" shoo sed, "aw'll lap it up i' some nice clean newspaper, an
tha mun tak it wi thi, an when tha finds a nice secluded spot, whear it
can rest peacefully, lay it to rest."

"All reight, lass! put it on th' table wol aw go