... Did'n yo ever see a weshin'-machine,
Nanny?"
"Never i' my life," said Nanny. "Nor aw dunnot want. Gi me a greight
mug, an' some breawn swoap, an' plenty o' soft wayter; an' yo may tak
yo'r machines for me."
"Well," continued Skedlock, "it's moor liker a grindlestone nor a
organ. But, as I were tellin yo:--
"Betty stare't at this thing, an' hoo walked round it an' scrat her
yed mony a time, afore hoo ventur't to speak. At last hoo said, 'Aw'll
tell tho what, Robert; it's a quare-shaped 'un. It favvurs a yung
mangle! Doesto think it'll be reet?' 'Reet?' said Robin, swipin' his ale
off? 'oh, aye; it's reet enough. It's one of a new pattern, at's just
com'd up. It's o' reet, Betty. Yo may see that bith hondle.' 'Well,'
said Betty, 'if it's reet, it's reet. But it's noan sich a nice-lookin'
thin--for a church--that isn't!' Th' little lass wur i'th parlour at th'
same time; an' hoo said, 'Yes. See yo, mother. I'm sure it's right. You
must turn this here handle; and then it'll play. I seed a man playin'
one yesterday; an' he had a monkey with him, dressed like a soldier.'
'Keep thy little rootin' fingers off that organ,' said Betty. 'Theaw
knows nought about music.
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