Niver fret thysel' about sich rubbish.

A'n done ill to speak on him.' 'No! thou hasn't.

Then as was friends o' father's I'll love for iver and iver; them as helped for t' hang him' (she shuddered from head to foot--a sharp irrepressible shudder!) 'I'll niver forgive--niver!' 'Niver's a long word,' said Kester, musingly.

'A could horsewhip him, or cast stones at him, or duck him mysel'; but, lass! niver's a long word!' 'Well! niver heed if it is--it's me as said it, and I'm turned savage late days.

Come in, Kester, and see poor mother.' 'A cannot,' said he, turning his wrinkled puckered face away, that she might not see the twitchings of emotion on it.