An' he penned mandy, "My mush was matto sar tute, and I nashered him." I pookered him ajaw, "I hope not, rya, for such a bitti covvo as dovo; an' he aint cammoben to piin' levinor, he's only used to pabengro, that don't kair him matto." But kek, the choro mush had to jal avree.

An' that's sar I can rakker tute about my jallin' to kangry.
TRANSLATION.
Did I ever go to church?
Yes, twice, and sat down there.

I was in the lower land of all (Cornwall), and a gentleman asked me to go to church, and I went.

And all the ladies and gentlemen looked at me as I went in.
So I sat quietly among some men and looked up on the wall above my head, and there were a deer and a rabbit cut in the stone, beautifully done.

I heard the clergyman speaking; and when the sermon was ended (literally, made), I came out and went down the road to the alehouse.
I found the gentleman's servant in the alehouse; so we got drunk there, and were going home down the road when we saw the gentleman's carriage coming.