He makes hisself too common.

I often tell him so.

Says I, 'Why dost let 'em all put on thee so?
Serve thee right if I was to send thee my pots and pans to mend.' 'And so do,' says he, directly.

'There's no art in it, if you can make the sawder, and I can do that, by the Dick and Harry!' And one day I said to him, 'Do take a look at this fine new cow of mine as cost me twenty-five good shillings and a quart of ale.

What ever is the matter with her?
She looks like the skin of a cow flattened against the board.' So says he, 'Nay, she's better drawn than nine in ten; but she wants light and shade.