llus hold gooid, for ther's a mucky, dirty nooased, draggle-tail'd lass
lives up awr yard, wi frowsy hair at couldn't be straightened wi nowt
short ov a cooambin machine; shoo hasn't a hawpney to bless hersen wi,
an yet shoo's called Victoria Hujaney, after th' Queen o' these lands,
an Ex-Empress o'th French.

But aw must get on wi mi tale, or else yo'll happen be thinkin 'at awm
nivver baan to tell it. Mister Sydney Algernon Horne faand hissen an
orphan at three an twenty year owd, an th' owner o' all th' Bank Shares
an th' Cottages, besides th' haase he lived in, which wor a varry nice
one wi a big garden, an situated, as th' advertisements says, in the
mooast salubrious pairt o' Sheffield.

He knew a deal o' fowk at Sheffield--fowk like him wi a heap o' brass;
an bein a single man, an furst-rate company, he wor welcomed i' all th'
big haases, a deeal moor heartily nor mooast o'th' readers o'th' Clock
Almanac wod ha been. Young men made him welcome, becoss he could tell a
gooid stooary an sing a song wi onny on em. Faythers an mothers o'
marriageable dowters wor fain to see him, i' hopes at he'd be smitten wi
th' charms o' Matilda Charlotte or Ethel Maude,--but th' lasses thersens
wor fainest to see him, becoss he wor nice lukkin, an could tawk soft to
em, an he used to squeeze ther hands when he wor sayin "gooid bye," soa
gently, at he used to mak em ivvery one think at he wor dyin ov love for
em.

But Sydney wor too wide awake to be catched easy; he wor varry happy an
comfortable as a bachelor, an as he'd a gooid idea at i' mooast cases it
wor his brass an not him at they wanted, he steered clear o' all th'
traps at they set for him; an when th' Kursmis parties wor all ovver, he
wor still single--an they'd none on em getten noa forrader wi him when
winter coom agean, an put a stop to Lawn Tennis an Croquet Parties.

But yo know it says i' th' gooid owd Book at it isn't "gooid for a man
to dwell alooan"--an aw suppoas it isn't, for someha or other, sooiner
or later mooast young chaps get dropt on, an Sydney wor noa excepshun to
th' rewl. Aw'll tell yo hah it wor.

One snowy neet, at abaat six o'clock he wor gooin hooam to his dinner,
(for swells yo must know ha ther dinners at th' time at respectable
warkin fowk ha ther teahs)--He wor just passin a dark lane end, when he
heard a woman's voice singin aght "Help! Help!"

He cut up th' rooad as fast as he could, an abaat twenty yards thro' th'
corner, he seed a re