"Th' owd clerk wur noan in
when Robin geet to th' dur wi' his cart that neet, so his wife coom with
a leet in her hond, an' said, 'Whatever hasto getten for us this time,
Robert?' 'Why,' said Robin, 'it's some mak of a organ. Where win yo ha't
put, Betty?' 'Eh, I'm fain thae's brought it,' said Betty. 'It's for
th' chapel; an' it'll be wanted for Sunday. Sitho, set it deawn i' this
front reawm here; an' mind what thae'rt doin' with it.' So Robin, an'
Barfoot Sam, an' Little Wamble, 'at looks after th' horses at 'Th'
Rompin' Kitlin,' geet it eawt o'th cart. When they geet how'd ont, Robin
said, 'Neaw lads; afore yo starten: Mind what yo'r doin; an' be as
ginger as yo con. That's a thing 'at's soon thrut eawt o' gear--it's a
organ.' So they hove, an' poo'd, an' grunted, an' thrutch't, till they
geet it set down i'th parlour; an' they pretended to be quite knocked up
wi' th' job. 'Betty,' said Robin, wipin' his face wi' his sleeve, 'it's
bin dry weather latly.' So th' owd lass took th' hint, an' fetched 'em a
quart o' ale. While they stood i'th middle o'th floor suppin' their ale,
Betty took th' candle an' went a-lookin' at this organ; and hoo couldn't
tell whatever to make on it.
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