Note 1 — MILL STORIES.

Lovey (Loveday) the daughter, came down from the mill-bed, as her mother went into the house. “Do tell me, An Jenny,” said she, “what a es about the pig.” “That woman,” replied An Jenny, “jest gone es as full of spite as an egg es full of meat. She didn’t know, or perhaps forgote, that those she sneered at were cousins to me; a good wey off to be sure they are, but blood es thicker than water, and when fourth cousins get well off they seem nearer than poor first cousins, or others. Well, I was goen to tell ’e how a neighbour’s pig can’t show es nose near her door, but a es sure to be scalped by havan a kettle full of boilan water thrown over am; and her ashes’ pile, close to her door, es always covered weth pieces of sour half-sooked barley fuggans, left to go sour and vinneyed; with fish and other things left to go stale and stinkan. Pigs have good noses, poor things, and when out to lanes will come and muzzle-up the ashes to get at any offal. One night last week a neighbour’s boys, whose pig had often ben ill-used,—sometimes burnt over head and ears weth a showl full of turfey fire, when she had no water boilan,—watched to find the way clear when she was gone out to ‘coursey’ until et was time for her to get supper for Bill and the two boys when they come home from bal. The boys whipped into the crow where Bill’s little white pig had a few days before been put to feed agenst wenter, and they so smeered et with gudgeon gress1 and soot that a looked jest like one of the new sort of black pigs. Soon after, when they saw light in Bill’s house, they turned his pig out and bolted the crow door. A few minutes after the boys who painted Bill’s pig heard’n screechan and seed’n tearan round the town-place like mad, till he got between his crow and the turf-rick and there stopt. P’raps you dont know what a trap Billy’s peeth es, and more dangerous than before a hedge was made close to one end ofn; the broad, flat stone in which the winze-‘millar’ do work es built into this new hedge, and the hook-handle on another broad stone weth the peeth between, only half-covered weth a few loose, broken pieces of old bal tember. After the poor pig had been there a few minutes Bill’s boys, as ugly as their mother, came home, and their snappish cur found the pig and gave chase to’n; it run’d slap up agen the hedge and tried to turn, but, bean nearly ef not quite blind, and the dog bitean es hinder parts, tha poor little thing in tryan to scramble over the peeth fell into’n. Now they were for life to get ropes, and a ladder to take up the pig lest they got into trouble; they were hours in bringen the pig to grass, and dedn’t find out tell next day that it was their own!