"Wal', thou are a fool!" says th' fa'armer, scratchin' 's he'ad, "tellin' me that! a shan't giv' tha no wa'ages, then, a vum. Wilt coom fur tha kep ?"
"That a will," says Fred, peckin' oop, "ef thou'll kep ma honest i' vittles an' clo'es."
"A'll do that," says the fa'armer, cal'clatin' as au'd clo'es an' ha'ouse bits 'd nigh kep un gooin'. But, lord! a knowed nowt o' Fred! Thou may reckon as 't worn't long afore a fun' out as a'd ma'ade none such a stra'ange 'n' aisy bargain nayther. A'd ca'ounted 's cattle wi' a pair o' calves to ivery heifer, 's th' sayin' is, fur Fred 'd ate th' ha'ouse bare, an' then vow a wor clemmed wi' hunger.
An 't wor no'on use fur to bet un, 't on'yma'ade un wusser; an' so wi' wo'kin' an' kickin' an' such, a'd ate more 'n iver arter'ds, while th' me'aster thowt as 'd be fair 'n' cle'an done fur.
"Wal'," says Fred to 's sel', "here a be, an' loike to split wi' hunger. A'd niver a bite to 'morn, nobbut a boocket o' 'taters an' a ca'ake o' bread, or mebbe two; an' what's that? A can't mind such tiddy bits, an' a'm reg'lar teemin' empty. Th' measter said as 'd kip ma wi' vittles, an 'a guess a'll goo 'n' try th' storehouse. Theer's a side o' bacon theer, an' mebbe beef; th' winder's barred, but th' Lord be pra'ised! a'm thin. A'll mebbe git thruff."
So off a went.
But soon as th' fon' critter got 's head an' showthers atwecn th' bars, a stoock fa'ast!—a did, an' cud'n't goo back nor for'ards. Wal', a hadn't no sense, as a said afoore, so 'stead o' waitin' an' mebbe thinkin' o' summat as 'd git un a'out, what 'd a do but screech a'out, 's if a wor kilt an' murthered, while th' me'aster 's sel' coom, an' fun' un, ha'af in, an' bigger ha'af a'out, o' th' storehouse winder!
"What thou doin' thur, dom tha?" roared th' fa'armer. "Coom a'out o' that, a tell 'ee!"
"Goddle-moighty, ef a cu'd a got a'out, a cu'd a got in too!" says Fred, fair 'n' angered. "Can't thou see as 'm stoock?"
