... Naäy, but she wunna! she's gotten a wull of her oän! Looök at the heye of her,--pink an' greëy, loike t'fire in a hopal stoän! Howsiver she sims sa hinnercent-loike, she's a follerin' arl I saäy: An' I boärt 'er at Kettleby Feär, I did, two yeär coom Cannelmas Daäy. Araminta her neäme is--but I carls 'er "Minty," fur shoärt, She weänt naw moor nor a goslin' o' coorse, what taïme she wur boärt: But a' knawed she'd turn oot a rare 'un, to jedge by her weëight an' feäl, An' I reckoned to fat her by Michaelmas Eve, ef I buzzled 'er oop wi meäl, Mayhappen ya'll ardly beleäve ma--but she unnerstood fra' the fust, What wur hexpected of 'er, (_with a senile chuckle_,) I thowt that burr'd 'ud ha' bust! Cram her, a' did! but she swuckered it doon, wi' niver a weästed drop, Fur she tuk that hinterest in it as she'd ruther ha' choäked nor stop! An' she'd foller wheeriver a went--till I hedn't naw peäce fur t' foäk, "'Ere be TAMMY long of his sweetart!" wur hallus the village joäk! An' I'd saäy: "'Tis ma Michaelmas denner _I'm_ squirin' aboot, owd chap!" An' Minty she'd stan' up a' tiptoe, an' fluther her neck, an' flap! Did I 'appen to gaw of a hevenin, to looök at ma hinion patch? Minty 'ud coom in along o' meä, an' rarstle aboot, an' scratch, Cocking her heye at the bed o' saäge, with a kink as mooch as to saäy: "Wull the saäge an' th' hinions be ready fur _meä_, by toime I be ready for theëy?" Or she'd snifter at arl the windfalls as ligged i' the horchard graäss, _I_ knawed what she wur erfter, a did--she wur pickin' 'em oot for the saäss! An' I'd roob ma ands fur to see her a ploddlin' across th' roärd, (_Tenderly._) "Thee'll mak' a denner, ma pratty," I'd saäy to her, "fit fur a loärd!" Maäin an' boolky she wur as Michaelmas week coom nigh, "Her'll niver not bulge naw bigger," I sez, "an she art fur to die!" I knawed she wur doitlin' soomwheer by the pasture under t' moör, Sa I fetched the chopper an' fettled 'im oop--an' I went fur to do 'er! (_Grimly._) An' I chillupped to Araminty, an' oop she rins with a clack, "Seeä what I've gotten to show 'ee," I sez, (wi' the chopper behind ma back) But I looked sa straänge an callow, she knawed I wur meanin' 'er ill, An' she kep a sidlin' an' edgin' awaäy, an' a gaäpin' wi' hopen bill! Then I maäde a grab at her sooden--an' she skirtled off to a feäld, Wheer Squire had been diggin' fur fireclaäy--eh, but she yellocked an' beäled! Cloppity-joggle I chaäsed her, sa well as I cud, bein' laäme, An' flippity-flopper she kep' on ahead--an' a' squawked out "Shaäme!" (_The Amateur Reciter should find little difficulty here in suggesting something of the intonation of a frightened goose: Pause--then continue apologetically._) I wur haäf asheämed o' mysen' I wur, afoor I coom to the hend, (_Remorsefully._) "Ye owd ongreätful guzzard," I thowt, "to gaw killin' ya hoänly friend!"