“Sally an' me, when we wer by our sells, wer always contrivin how we wer at git away, when we sleept by oursells we talk't of nought else—but when t' woman's Doughter sleept we' us we wer _qwhite_ mum—summat or udder always happent at hinder us, till yan day, between Kursmas an' Cannalmas, when t' woman's Doughter stait at heaam, we teuk off. Our house was four mile on 'todder side o' Dent's Town—whor, efter we hed pass t' Skeul, we axed t'way to Kendal—It hed been a hard frost, an' ther was snaw on t' grund—but it was beginnin to thow, an' was varra sloshy an' cauld—but we _poted_ alang leaving our lile footings behint us—we hed our cloggs on—for we durst'nt change them for our shoon for fear o' being fund out—an' we had nought on but our hats, an' bits o' blue bedgowns, an' brats—sea ye may think we cuddent be varra heeat—I hed a sixpence e' my pocket, an' we hed three or four shilling mare in our box, 'at our Fwoak hed ge'en us to keep our pocket we'—but, lile mafflins[8] as we wer, we thought it wad be misst an' durst'nt tak ony mare. [Footnote 8: _Maffling_—_a state of perplexity_.—BROCKETT. Maffled, mazed, and maisled (as used a little further on) have all a like sense.] “Afore we gat to Sebber[9] we fell hungry; an' ther was a fine, girt, reed house nut far off t' rwoad, whar we went an' begged for a bit o' breead—but they wadd'nt give us ought—sea we trampt on, an com to a lile theakt house, an' I said—‘Sally thou sall beg t' neesht—thou's less than me, an mappen they'll sarra us’—an' they dud—an' gav us a girt shive[10] o' breead—at last we gat to _Scotch Jins_, as they ca' t' public House about three mile fra Sebber (o' this side) a Scotch woman keept it.—It was amaist dark, sea we axt her at let us stay o' neet—she teuk us in, an' gav us sum boilt milk and breead—an' suun put us to bed—we telt her our taael; an' she sed we wer int' reet at run away. [Footnote 9: i.e. Sedbergh.] [Footnote 10: i.e. a slice. So in Titus Andronicus. “Easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a _shive_ we know.”] “Neesht mwornin she gav us sum mare milk an' breead, an' we gav her our sixpence—an' then went off-sledding away amangt' snaw, ower that cauld moor (ye ken' 't weel enough) naarly starved to deeath, an' maisled—sea we gat on varra slawly, as ye may think—an' 't rain'd tua. We begged again at anudder lile theakt house, on t' Hay Fell—there was a woman an' a heap of raggeltly Bairns stannin round a Teable—an' she gave us a few of their poddish, an' put a lock of sugar into a sup of cauld tea tull them.