ier in her mind.

T'next mornin shoo'd a deal o' trouble to get Sammy to put it on, for he
couldn't tell t'meanin on it, but his mother lukt soa serious abaat it
'at he didn't like to say he wodn't wear it.

He went to his wark, but his jacket didn't fit quite as well as usual,
an' as for keep in his waistcoat i' ony-bit-like shape, he couldn't do
it, for t'weight behind wor soa heavy wol it pool'd t'buttons ommost up
to his chin, an' when he sat on his stooil i' t'front o' t'desk, he felt
as if somdy wor tryin' to upset him backards. When he went to his
dinner, he felt as if he wor huggin a pack, an' he begged hard ov his
mother to let him goa withaat it, but shoo sed shoo darn't trust him
aght ov her seet if he hadn't it on, for it wor to shield him. "It's a
queer place for a shield," he sed, "but awl try it this afternooin, an'
if it doesn't feel easier awst niver put it on agean."

When he coom hooam at neet, he wor booath tired an' cross; an' after his
Supper he gat a slate an' pencil an' sat daan to write, lukkin' varry
glum. His mother watched him varry anxiously for a while, an' then shoo
sed quietly, "Tha doesn't look varry weel to-neet, Sammy, does ta think
tha'rt goin' to have a spell o' sickness?" "Noa, but awm sick o'
spellin', for t'gaffer's allus agate on me becoss aw connot spell
'which.' Aw've spell'd it wich-whitch-witch-an' which-du' awl goa to
hummer if aw can tell which is which even nah. Aw wish ther worn't a
which."

"Which witch does ta mean, Sammy?"

"Aw can't tell which which, aw wish aw could."

"A'a Sammy," shoo sed, an shoo threw her arms raand his neck, "tha's
taen a load offmy mind!"

"Well, you've putten me one on to mi waistcoit."

"Tak it off, lad, for tha doesn't need it! Tha doesn't know hah thankful
aw am, for when aw wor tawkin' to thi maister yesterday he sed tha wor
troubled wi' witches, an' aw sewed t'horseshoe on to scare 'em."

"Which whiches did he mean?"

"Which witches witch?"

"Aw can't tell which is which."

"Nivver heed which it is, Sammy, soa long as it isn't a witch. If it's
nobbut a difference ov a letter or two aw can't see 'at it means owt.
Goa thi ways to bed, an' dooant let me have to call on thee for a clock
haar before tha frames to get up."

Hard to Pleeas.

"Aa, well! Wonders'll nivver cease! Come thi ways in! Whativver's browt
thee here ov a day like this? It isn't fit to turn a dog aght ot door."

"Noa lass, an' if awd been a dog aw