But one o'th' chaps roll'd up his briches slop to see; "Nay, thi leg is all reight." "Well," sed Musty, "tha knows it may be soa, for we've heeard tell o' th' fooit and maath desease, an' this may be th' heead an' hand complaint. But what do yo think it'll be th' best for him to do?" "I shuild advise him to goa hooam at once, but if ony body should see him they'll varry likely tak him for a literary chap becoss he's so deeply red." "Well, whether they tak him for a little-hairy chap or net, he'll pass for a red hairy chap an' noa mistak," sed Hiram. But Sucksmith fancied he felt soa waik wol he didn't think he'd be able to walk hooam, soa after all biddin him "gooid bye," for fear they mud niver see him agean an one chap axin him to be sure an' tell his first wife if he met her up aboon, 'at he'd getten wed to her sister, they sent him hooam in a cab. "Nay fer sewer! Whativer wi ta say? An' whativer did their Margit say when shoo saw him? He must ha luk'd a pictur." "Nay, aw dooant know what shoo sed, but ther wor a rare racket ith' hoil awl a-warrant thi. But th' gurt softheead stuck in it, 'at he wor poorly, an' as shoo saw he wornt sober shoo humoured him wi lettin him goa to bed. Next mornin he'd come to his senses a bit, soa shoo let him have sich a bit o' tongue as he hadn't had latly, for tha knows shoo's a glaid when shoo starts, for if awd to say quarter as mich to my felly as shoo says to him sometimes, he'd niver darken th' door agean. He began to see what a fooil they'd been makkin on him, an' he gate up intendin to goa to his wark, but when he saw hissen ith' seamin glass, he couldn't fashion, an' soa he began o' weshin hissen first i' cold watter an' then i' hot; but it wor what they call a fast color, an' he couldn't get it to stir do what he wod. "What mun aw do, Margit?" he sed, when he'd swill'd his heead wi' hot watter wol it wor hauf boiled; "th' moor aw wesh it an' th' breeter it seems to get. If iver aw get all reight agean ther's somdy'll want a new suit o' clooas, but it'll be a wooden en." "Hold thi noise, lumpheead," shoo sed, "an' get thi braikfast an awl see if aw connot do summat for thi. Aw expect it'll have to be scaar'd off." Soa after th' braikfast shoo made him ligg daan o' th' hearthstooan, an' shoo gate some wire scale an' started o' scrubbin one side ov his head, as if shoo'd been polishin th' fender; but he couldn't stand that, an' he laup'd up, an' donced up an' daan th' hoil, sayin all sooarts o' awkward things. "What the dickens are ta thinkin on," he sed, "does ta fancy awm made o' cast-iron?" "Aw dooan't know what tha'rt made on, but aw know tha artn't made o'th' reight sooart o' stuff for a fayther ov a family to be made on; but if tha connot get it off thisen, an' tha weant let me, tha'll be forced to stop as tha art, that's all." An' away shoo flew aat o' th' haase and left him. "Nay fer sewer! An' whativer did he do?"