Note (return) — Chapter XI
Reading edition
"Well, sir, matters went on i' this way for a brave time, an' the 'tendance got less, till Lawyer Mennear wos fairly at hes wits' end. He talked a' weak-kneed brethren, an' 'puttin' your han's to the plough,' an' dreshed the pilm [2] out o' cush'n afore 'un, an' kicked up a purty dido, till you cou'd hear the randivoose o' Sunday mornin's 'way over t'other side o' Carne hill; but 'twarn't no manner o' good. An' as for the childer at the Sunday-school—th' ould rapscallion laid powerful store by hes Sunday-school—'twas 'bear a hand ivery wan' to get mun to face that eye: an' you mou't clane their faces an' grease their hair as you wou'd, the mothers told me, an' see mun off 'pon the road to Meetin' House; but turn your back, an' they'd be mitchin' [3] in a brace o' shakes an' 'way to go for Coombe beach, an' playin' hidey-peep in their clane pinnyfores 'mong the rocks.