Much of this old manner of talking has been preserved in the publications of the English Dialect Society, in which we find embedded, among more stolid phrases, amusing scraps of rustic dialogues, illustrating the local shibboleths. Here we have, for example, a rural domestic quarrel, rendered in broad “Zummerzet.” It has not been thought desirable to reproduce the somewhat pedantic inflection-marks given in the Society’s publications, tending as they do towards the unnecessary mystification of those who do not happen to be philologists. The spelling has also been altered here and there, to bring it more into line with the enunciation usually heard by the ordinary person. The woman in this first specimen says, “Uneebaudee mud su waul bee u tooüd uundur u aaruz bee u foauz tu leave saeumz aay bee, laung u dhee. Tuz skandluz un sheemfeal aew aay bee zaard.”[3] Footnote 3: “Anybody might so well be a toad under a harrow as be forced to live same as I be, long of thee. ’Tis scandalous and shameful how I be served.” To this pitiful complaint the husband answers, “U uumunz auvees zaard wuul neef uur udn aat ubeawt, un dhee aart nuvvur aat ubeawt.”[4] Footnote 4: “A woman’s always served well if her isn’t hit about; and thee art never hit about.” Here is another example from the collection already quoted from: “Taumee, haut bee yue aiteen on? Spaat ut aewt turaaklee!” Perhaps the reader may be left to translate this. But how about the following, spoken by a waggoner on a hot day? “Mudn maek zu boalz t’ax vur koop u zaydur, aay spoüz? Aay zuuree aay bee dhaat druy, aay küdn spaat zik-spuns.”[5] Footnote 5: “Mustn’t make so bold as to ask for a cup of cider, I suppose? I assure you I be that dry, I couldn’t spit sixpence.” Here again is some time-honoured “Zummerzet.” “Come, soce! Yur’s yur jolly goed health. Drink ut oop tu onct!” “Naw; daze muy ole buttonz neef aay due! Aay diddn nuvvur hold wi’ u-swillen of ut deown same uz thaet. Hurry no maen’s cattle tul ye’ve got’n ass o’ yur aeown! Hurry, hurry; ’tuz this yur hurryen what tarns everythen arsy-varsy vor me! Muy uymurz! what ood muy oal graanfer saay tu th’ likes of ut? Wooden dh’oal maen laet aewt!” [Illustration: KILVE CHURCH.] Among the curious expressions found in this last speech, that of “soce” is prominent. The word is a familiar expression in these parts. It is used between equals, and is equivalent to “my boy,” “old chap,” etc. Philologists generally consider it to be a survival from monastic times, when itinerant monkish preachers are supposed to have been styled, “socii,” _i.e._ “associates,” or “brethren,” or to have themselves used the expression in addressing their congregations. “This yur,” that is to say, reduced to ordinary pronunciation, “this here” is, on the other hand, equivalent to a strong disapproval of the subject under discussion. It means “this new-fangled,” unfamiliar, or unpleasant thing.