"It's too bad," Jack was crying, "It's too bad; yo' all know 'at awn kept mi father awmost even sin' aw could addle a meg, an' him doing nowt but tidy th' house up an' go a rattin' with th' dog an' happen bring a rabbit home betimes--an' aw never grudged him owt, for he's mi own father, an' mi mother 'at's dead an' gone left him to me. But, its too bad aw say--gise 'ang, it ud make a worm turn--here its mi wedding day, an' aw thowt we'd have a bite an' sup by ordinar. So aw off to Ned o' Bill's an' bowt three p'und o' good wheat flour, tho' it's well known, what price it's at, an' ill aw could spare th' brass. But a felly doesn't get wed every day. We calc'lated it ud mak ten cakes, an' that ud be one round apiece an' two to put bye for Sunday. Mi father baked 'em hissen three days sin', for we thowt we munnot eit 'em till they were stale, new uns crumble so--an' aw bowt a piece of th' skirt o' beef at lay me in five good shillin'--so when aw set off to take Sue here to th' chuch aw left mi father to watch th' beef afore t' fire, an' we borrowed some plates an' knives an' forks an' three chairs, for aw thowt we'd all have a feast at 'ud make th' weddin' party remember mi weddin' day as long as they lived. An' after th' knot wer' teed an' we were walkin' th' village so all could see what a lass awd gotten, we just looked in at th' house door to see if th' meat were nearly done--an would yo' believe it, th' owd glutton 'ud supped welly a gallon o' th' weddin' ale an' were wipin' his chops wi t' back o' his coat sleeve, 'at weren't his own, but borrowed o' mi uncle Ben; an' ther' were nobbut four cakes left an' a good p'und cut off th' joint an' th' pan as bare o' gravy as if it had been new scoured. Oh! tha' brussen guts; if tha' weren't mi own father!" And here Jack shook his fist over Jamie's head, and Sue tried to turn aside his wrath and to play the peace-maker, as a good woman ever will. "For shame o' thissen," said one; "It 'ud sarve thi reight to put thee i' th' stocks," said another; "Let's stang him," a woman cried. "Many a decent body's been cucked for less," said Moll o' Stuarts, who knew what the cucking stool meant full well. And all felt that Jamie Thewlis had done as scurvy a trick as ever he had done in a scurvy life. Even those that drank with him, the loafers and vagabonds of the village, got to the outskirts of the crowd, and left him alone to his defence.