customs up for wer own sakes, ye know. T' cowd's that bitter, and coals is that dear, and poverty's a sharp tooith, as the saying goes."
"I'll be bound you don't know much about that, Nanny," said Hepworth. "I expect you've got an old stocking-foot somewhere that's pretty well lined, eh?"
"Nay, not me!" said Nanny. "I never see'd a real golden pound i' my life to call my own. If I hed one somebody else allus hed a call on it."
"Stockin'-feet mak's poor purses," said the second old woman. "They tak' so much fillin'."
"Aye, and now-a-days," said the third, "there's nowt to fill 'em wi'. Times is hard for poor folk."
"Well," said Hepworth, "I suppose you've all had your breakfasts and can't eat any more, can you?"
"None o' your fun-makkin', maister," said Mally, who stood by, busily engaged in cooking preparations. "Eh, dear, men are allus i'
