Mr.Sam Bossom, 'e gave us a 'and at the coal-'ole, an' Mr.Mortimer got mixed up in it later on; an' that's all _they_ know about it.

There's nobody elst, unless you count the pore woman at the orspital, an' _she's_ dead." "That aunt of yours--is _she_ dead too ?" Tilda grinned.
"You've been talkin' to Glasson." "P'r'aps," suggested Mr.Hucks, after a shrewd glance at her, "you'd best tell me the story in your own way." "That's what I'd like.

You see," she began, "I been laid up three weeks in 'orspital--the Good Samaritan, if you know it--along o' bein' kicked by a pony.

End o' last week they brought in a woman--dyin' she was, an' in a dreadful state, an' talkin'.

I ought to know, 'cos they put her next bed to mine; s'pose they thought she'd be company.