There was 'is wife--you wouldn' think it in ordinary life, but, dressed up, she goes to your 'eart; an' she wore, first an' last, more dresses than you could count.
First of all she 'it a little tambourine, an' said she was a gipsy maid.
'I'm a narch little gipsy,' she said, 'an' I never gets tipsy'-- " "Why _should_ she ?" "'But I laugh an' play,' she said, 'the whole o' the day, such a nartless life is mine, ha, ha!' which wasn' none of it true, except about the drink, but you could see she only done it to make 'erself pleasant.

An' then she told us ow' when they rang a bell somebody was goin' to put Mortimer to death, an' 'ow she stopped that by climbin' up to the bell and 'angin' on to the clapper.

Then in came Mortimer an' sang a song with 'er--as well 'e might--about 'is true love 'avin' 'is 'eart an' 'is 'avin' 'ers, an' everyone clappin' an' stampin' an' ancorein' in the best of tempers.

Well, an' what does the man do after an interval o' five minutes, but dress hisself up in black an' call 'er names for 'avin' married his uncle?
This was too much for the back seats, an' some o' them told 'im to go 'ome an' boil 'is 'ead.

But it 'ad no effect; for he only got worse, till he ended up by blackin' 'is face an' smotherin' 'er with a pillow for something quite different.
After that he got better, an' they ended up by playin' a thing that made everybody laugh.