DORA.
No, no; it cannot be.
DOBSON.
And p'raps ye hears 'at I soomtimes taaekes a drop too much; but that
be all along o' you, Miss, because ye weaent hev me; but, if ye would,
I could put all that o' one side eaesy anew.
DORA.
Cannot you understand plain words, Mr. Dobson? I tell you, it cannot
be.
DOBSON.
Eh, lass! Thy feyther eddicated his darters to marry gentlefoaelk, and
see what's coomed on it.
DORA.
That is enough, Farmer Dobson. You have shown me that, though fortune
had born _you_ into the estate of a gentleman, you would still have
been Farmer Dobson. You had better attend to your hayfield. Good
afternoon.
[_Exit_.
DOBSON.
'Farmer Dobson'! Well, I be Farmer Dobson; but I thinks Farmer
Dobson's dog 'ud ha' knaw'd better nor to cast her sister's misfortin
inter 'er teeth arter she'd been a-readin' me the letter wi' 'er voice
a-shaaekin', and the drop in 'er eye. Theer she goaes! Shall I foller
'er and ax 'er to maaeke it up? Noae, not yet. Let 'er cool upon it; I
likes 'er all the better fur taaekin' me down, like a laaedy, as she be.
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