"How yidiculous 'tis in you Effawsham," cried Sir Caesar, "to go on in this manner, somebody will think perhaps that you don't know any better – you should consider there are seveyal steayngers here."
[narrative omitted]
"How have I affeunted you," said Sir Caesar.
"By an absurd affectation last winter you used to ring the r as if there were a dozen in every word."
"Well, but isn't it greater folly in Effawasham, to think it witty to speak bad English ?"

"I longs to see Cattern and all on 'em," said Mrs. Grimshaw, "and as for Hetty and M'rier , they be so hoverjoyed as your nieces be home again, nothing can be like it-- they be like sisters you know; and there they slept with 'em last night, and there your coach or what it is, cam'd and took away the Simmonses to all manner of pleasuring--and I'm sure 'tis heart-breaking to 'em, for 'em to be parted so, just a'ter a habsence --such friends they be , to be sure --and I ver'ly b'lieves my girls ou'd go thro' vater or fire and smoke to sarve any of your nieces my lady--and 'twill spile all their pleasure of going to this here masq'rade without my girls--but there, that can't be-- tho 'twould be but two--and so friendly--"

"So much!" cried Mrs. Grimshaw, rising, "vell then, as we've so fur to go, ve must be on the move--though I vanted to see Miss Archerly, to perpose some pleasant party; for I hopes to see Sir Philup and you my lady, some hevening next week as is most agreerble --say Vensday or Thuzday ."
[some narrative omitted]
"'Tis a misfortin Sir--and what's vuss ve can't never find no cure for it--the things ve have tried!--Tom's got a hissue in each arm now- -be they both kept open Tom?"
"I've no such thing, Mother--I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh fie , oh fie Tom vhen 'twas but last ven'sday veek Doctor Godfrey dress'd your arm-- you know, " continued Mrs. Grimshaw.
[some narrative omitted]
"Come, chillern , we must be going-- Vell Lady Archerly, if I can't purvail on'e to dirty a knife and fork with us, this time, all as is, ve must disfer it, 'till next time as you comes to Lunnon , and then ve'll be better acquainted, on't us? – Ah, that ve vill --we 'on't purtend to know vun another in vun visit: ' tis morarly unposserble ."

"Oh lawk, iss, " returned the mother, " ''tis a nice hairy sityvation , and I was never here afore , though born'd and bred in Lunnon , 'tis so fur , you see , my lady from our reserdence , and so I sent our Jem with my love, to borry old Mr. G's charrot , 'cause I'm wery timidous in a hack."
"You had better take something after your long ride, Mrs Grimshaw," said Major Lethbridge; "Let me help you to a glass of wine."
"Sir, you're wery purlite -- I've no objections; indeed I vas going to beg a draught of Lady Archerly's small beer--and to say the truth , I could eat vun of them there biskies ."
"Wouldn't you prefer some of that there cake?" said Mrs. Lethbridge.
"No thank 'e ma'am--I like it, but it don't like me," cried Mrs. Grimshaw, wiping her face with a faded silk handkerchief, and spreading it over her lap. "Sir, you're a gen'leman ," said she, as the Major handed her a glass of wine. "Oh law! if I han't a flopp'd some of it on the nice carput --better ring the bell for a dirty cloth, hadn't 'e -- needn't say nothing about it to Lady Archerly, 'cause she'll make a fuss p'raps . Here's my service to 'e ; Sir Philip Archerly, your better health--Lady Archerly, our better acquainternce --that Lady next you --and the Lady in the purple welwut --Jessy, my dear, your father's health, and your aunt Simmons and sisters--Hetty, M'rier , my love to 'e --Tom –" concluded she, nodding to her son.

"Fust come, fust sarv'd Sir," said Mrs Hancock, seating herself above him, "I camed isterday , so here I squats: 'tis in the rules, and 'tis vell there be rules, else we should be all at sixes and sevens higgledy piggledy: not but what 'tis all as good this hind of the table as the t'other – every bit – and I see summut as I'd love – b'il'd pourk and pease pudd'n – and please the pigs , I'll have some."

" Vell now, I thought as 'twasn't true, though my sister Grimshaw, ou'd 'sist upon it as 'twas – fegs! there's a thief in the can'le ," continued Mrs Hancock, taking a pin from her side to remedy the defect; "and now neighbour Temple, hand my plate for some more pourk – near the handle please, 'cause 'tain't done in the middle – oh law, you put your thumb in my mustard – never mind – oh you ha'n't – now for some pudd'n – there – that's vell."

"Let there be a piece for me," added Mrs. Hancock, "without any pepper; 'ton't do for my cough – though I be fond of spices, they bain't fond of me – for I be but a poor body for health , though I look so rumbustious – I was bad enough o' conscience isterday evening; I was bad in my bowels Sir, and a'ter I went to bed, I grew wus and wus ; I thought I should have died in the night: 'tis going about they tell me – and here I'm come to Bath," continued she, sucking a chicken bone, "to have my bad leg pumpt upon – did you call for bread, neighbour Temple – here, you shall have mine, I ha'n't a bit it – come I'll have the crust and you shall have the peth – excuse my paws , hands were made afore knives and forks – if you bain't going to drink no more of that there beer, I'll thenk'e for't – one good turn deserves another you know – there's just enough for me now, and by'n by I'll have a good swig a'ter my cheese – why neighbour, you don't eat – I must have some more pa'sley and butter – not over my bacon squire – 'tisn't 'il'd , is it? ah 'tis, what a pity: it quite spiles one's dinner. What nice looking pertaters these be, " continued she cutting one in half with her knife – "Law it grates again the steel – they bain't done – stick your fork in some cabbage for me, will'e squire ; that's vell ."

"Sandy, ye manna gang yoursel to the auld birkie's wi' this letter the day," said Mactaggart to his boy; " gif ony neebour frae the neist town come belive, ye can gi' him it, for I canna mysel nae mair gar ye gang , as I hae mony a time gar'd ye gang dancing like a cotter's wean , wha maun rin half breathless wharever the gentry o'er the muir wad send them, an' nae their ain servants; as the auld St. Clyde the ither day sent wee Davie Grahame: his egg has ay twa youks , Sandy my man; an ye ken ill workers are ay gude to-putters. "

"Bess,--Bess," he could not think what Bess was meant; but wandering solitary, some two days after this lesson had been tendered Willie, Levingstone espied the minister's servant-girl coming from a neighbouring house, and sure enough she was the Bess; for like a greyhound Willie sprang from behind a high turf dyke that formed one flank of the fauld, and Levingstone espied Bess in the arms of Willie in a trice; and the words of this modest girl's mouth were, "O Willie! let me gang ; I thought ye war mair blate ; I manna stay." -- "Dear Bess! let me speak to ye ." -- "Na , na, Willie, that winna do; I'm nae obliged to saunter here wi' you! I ne'er had ony thoughts to tint my heart. "-- "Ah! Bess, wha kens but ye may rue an' pity me; ye ne'er can wall a man that looes ye mair wi' true downright love." -- "And if I ne'er should, nae man my heart can move; ilk lad's alike to me; I am happy and leal frae e'en to morn, and gif ye ken'd it, sae are ye ; an' baith had best take tent , and frae the either keep a' daffin an' sugar'd words, an' ne'er mint a breath about what nane but fools rant, clish-maclaver --poor fools, wha tent their power within four wa's, an' gather mirky clouds abun their heads, an' at their feet a skirling bairn to gar them drudge frae morning to the gloamin , an frae the gloamin till the sin rise over the lawn."
Willie said little, but he plied her hard with kisses, and the torrent of pleasure he felt in being allowed to snatch them with a delicate resistance, fired his blood: and Bess, with all her stoicism, seemed by the attitude she threw herself in,--her fine breasts resting on Willie's bosom, and her longing eyes now and then stealing a glance of his, whilst there seemed to be no more words to ease her heart, and as if tied by the arms of Willie entwined around her waist, and her kisses warm in the place of vows,--Bess, we say, seemed as if her heart, now softer grown, half-yielded consent to the love-sick, faithful Willie.
But she contrived to get out of his innocent embrace, and scolded him as " nae blate to tak sic a liberty wi' her on the open lawn, whar mair e'en than what looked frae the lifts might see them: ne'er do't again, Willie; ye ne'er sall hae your will; ye ne'er sall mak me lead a puir feightan life o' Willie's wife:-- na , na ; ye'll ne'er mak muckle o' me wi' unco fraise , an' daut me afore fouk ; an' as soon as your new-fangleness is gane , instead o' sweet delyte , 'cause ye tint your freedom for my sake, gang to wastefu ' barliehoods , and sine be driven frae house an' hald ; na , na, Willie."
Bess at length got out of Willie's clutches; and Levingstone hardly knew which to admire most, the assiduities of Willie, or the stifled attachment of Bess, who blushed through vanity rather than shame.