FOURTH DAY. 109 



his very skin, and 'a went straight off to 

 bed. Rachael her 'ad been a bakin' in the 

 daay time, and 'a put Job's leathern breeches 

 in the oven to dry um. In the marnin', 

 avore 'twas light, Job began to veel about 

 vor his thengs, and missed the breeches. 

 44 Where be the breeches ?" zays he ; 

 " where be my breeches, Rachael ! " " Awh, 

 in the oven." Away went Job a'ter um, 

 but in a minnit 'a zengs out, " Massey haw ! 

 what in th' oruld ha' you done, Rachael ! 

 they be ael cockled up like a skin o' parch- 

 ment ! Oh Lard, oh lard, what zhall I do ! 

 Was ever a man zo plagued as I be ? " 

 " Patience, Job, patience," zays the owld 

 body, " have a leetle patience. Remember 

 your namezake, how he was caddled." 

 " Ha ! that 's very true," zays Job ; 'a had 

 a nation deal to put up wi', that 's zartin, 

 but his wife never baked his breeches!" 



S. A capital story, which should be 

 incorporated with the next edition of the 



