Yo 're a rook o' th' biggest nowmuns at ever trode ov a floor.
Aw never sprad my e'en upo' th' marrow trick to this i' my loife.
Are yo noan flayed o' throwing yor choles [jaws] off th' hinges?
Ther 's moor in his yed nor a smo'-tooth comb con fot eawt.
It's enough to ma'e onybody cry their shoon full.
A bad trade'll spoil a good mon sometimes, iv he'll stick weel to 't.
Keep yor peckurs up.
Tho' we live'n o' th' floor, same as layrocks,
We'n goo up, like layrocks, to sing.
Theaw geawses within two tumbles ov a leawse.
I oather anger't some he-witch, or the Dule threw his club o'er me 't mornin when I geet op; for misfortins coom on me as thick as leet.
Fworse is medsn for a mad dhog.
Gexin's [guessing] akin to lyin.
Proof o' th' puddin 's i' th' eatin.
Sich wark as this ma'es me t'scrat where aw dunno itch.
Thoose 'ut couno' tell a bitter-bump fro' a gillhooter [a bittern from an owl].
As sure as a tup's a sheep.
They'n th' bigg'st meawths i' yon country at ever aw seed clapt under a lip! Aw hove one on 'em his yure
