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"Parched wi' thirst I be!" he groaned

"I've been the like ere now!" says I, and having gulped dohat remained of the fellow's beer I tossed the jar into the road, whereat he beat his breast

"My beer!" he wailed, "And I a-fa wi' thirst! O my beer!"

"There's sater i' the brook yonder!" says I

"You be a chap wi' no bowels, for sure!" he cried "Aye, a hard man you be!"

"'Tis a hard world," says I, "but 'tis no matter for that, tell me of Sir Richard Brandon"

"Why then, you must know I am Myles Trueman--"

"And truly, man, there be miles of you, but 'tis no matter for that either--what of Sir Richard?"

"I do be co to he," says Trueman in surly tone "I do farh just"

"So--here's another hard odly! He hath restored our church weathercock an' all an' set up a fine, large and fair pillory on the green Lunnon couldn't show a finer, wi' stocks an' cucking-stool complete and rare to fancy--"

"And findeth he the ithal to fill 'eipsy nor beggar dare coh in Sir Richard's tie was ducked, and scolds and shrews be fewer by reason o' the brank, d'ye see?"

"Huentle until his fat cheeks quivered, "and one that doth abhor vagrants and such-like ver, but fell a-fanning hi e in these parts?" he questioned

"Aye and no!"