DOBSON.
An' soae they be.
1ST FARMING MAN.
Soae they be! soae they be!
2ND FARMING MAN.
The Lord bless boaeth on 'em!
3RD FARMING MAN.
An' the saaeme to you, Master.
4TH FARMING MAN.
And long life to boaeth on 'em. An' the saaeme to you, Master Steer,
likewise.
STEER.
Thank ye!
_Enter_ EVA.
Wheer 'asta been?
EVA. (_Timidly_.)
Many happy returns of the day, father.
STEER.
They can't be many, my dear, but I 'oaepes they'll be 'appy.
DOBSON.
Why, tha looks haaele anew to last to a hoonderd.
STEER.
An' why shouldn't I last to a hoonderd? Haaele! why shouldn't I be
haaele? fur thaw I be heighty this very daaey, I niver 'es sa much as
one pin's prick of paaein; an' I can taaeke my glass along wi' the
youngest, fur I niver touched a drop of owt till my oaen wedding-daaey,
an' then I wur turned huppads o' sixty. Why shouldn't I be haaele? I
ha' plowed the ten-aaecre--it be mine now--afoor ony o' ye wur burn--ye
all knaws the ten-aaecre--I mun ha' plowed it moor nor a hoonderd
times; hallus hup at sunrise, and I'd drive the plow straaeit as a line
right i' the faaece o' the sun, then back ageaen, a-follering my oaen
shadder--then hup ageaen i' the faaece o' the sun.
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