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Dublin be me sell, yan may gang fifty miles a day an nout
but hoos for hoos, an like our lwonnins for lenth; yan
cannot see't yerth for pyavment nea whore; nor I sud niver
seen awld Inglan agyan, if I had been be me sell, I dare
say, for tha ur the deevel for settin yan wrang if yan ass
them. Thare's hooses tha caw publick beeldins, at's sea
fine, I cant tell the what tha ur like; the Parle-men-hoos,
whore gentlemen gangs to bate yan anudder: there's a varst
o' girt styan props oth fwor side ont; there's a room wi
reed furms int, whore tha feight, I lyuk its blyud mappen;
there was a lile woman let us see that hoos, about four fyut
hee, she was as thick as three awld mears twin'd togidder; I
wunder't at she dudnt grow heer, leaving in a hoos twenty or
thurty fyut hee, but she was as bryad as a haycock. Anent
it, about a styan thro of Parlemen-hoos was Collership-hoos;
its a bigger plyace ner tudder: if thou was iver in a plyace
whore girt crags hing owr ov aw sides o'the, it wad be like
t'square, as tha caw't, ith' middle oth' Collership-hooses:
fwok at I sa there wast myast othem as black as deevels; it
sartinly isnt hell; but tha sa tha git deed fwok out o' ther
gryaves: I think its' true; for I so a varst of deed fwoks
byans, and sum lockt up i' glass coffens, wi flesh on; an
tha had barns, an bits o' flesh, pirsirv'd i' bottles as
fwoks dus berries. There was a fellow wid a bunch o' keys,
at oppent locks an dyurs as fast as lyuk: it myad me think
oth' Ribelations, whore yan reeds oth' keys o' deeth and
hell; thou mappen understands tat plyace. We war in a plyace
tha caw Musium, whore there's aw things at's comikal; a
thousan things at tow never so, nor I can caw; there war
muse-deer hworns as bryad as our back-bword, an bits ov aw
manner o' hworns: I cannot tell the what, but ther's t'
hworns nyam'd ith Ribelations, an weel hev a varst o' talk
fra I be yable to cum an see the.
I was at a plyace tha caw Common Exchange, whore fwok fra aw
nyuks oth' warld meets togidder, to bye an sell aw things at
ever thou can nyam: t'midst ont's like a bee-hive, but
stands a top o lang freestan legs, wid a girt round winda
ith' crown ont, an like a wide hoos round about t'legs, at
in covers as mikel grund as t'Tarn at t'gowd ark's in, thou
kenst. I was at a plyace tha caw Cassel, whore a man tha caw
Tennant leaves, he's Stuart of Ierlan for our King;
t'Lword-meer o' Dublin his heed sarvent, an fwok sed he went
throw hell to kurk evry sunda; I thowt it had been sum
street-lownnin mappen, at tha'd cawt sea, but I fairly so
him stannin like a dyur steed, raised about twea yirds of
the' yearth, but I think he was chain'd tuth' spot, becose
he dudnt stur, mappen dez'd; but it was a dark black
lwonnin, cover'd owr wi black hooses, an I perswaded my feet
to carry me gyud way off seck curositys, for I was amyast
freetent to deeth, but it was varra weel I hed strenth to
run awa; now thou may be suer I gev me cumrade a deevlish
lesson fro trailin me thru hell; he's flate o' no wt, but
carrid me to Parik-Kurk, its as big as a town for girtness,
an as menne fwok at it; ther was hoaf a duzzen o'preists at
wark, but we'd nobbut staid a bit, when summit tha cawt
rowargins began a bealin like a hundred mad bulls, an as
menne lile lads i'ther sarks began a screemin, murder, I
think, for evry beal was like thunner: Me feet than carryd
me wi'out persuadin, in a caleevir owr fwok, an aw tiver was
imme way, till I gat intull a girt field, a mile about, tha
caw'd it Steben's Green, I think, efter a man on a girt grey
nag, at was stannan a top of a lile hoos it midst ont; he'd
his sword drawn, but he durstunt git off for want o'roum; I
think tha sed he'd been freetent as I was, but I was sea
freetent, I hardly knew what I dud or sed: but I so anudder
man a top ov a lile hoos, ith midst ov a girt
street-lwonnin; I think they wer brudders, for their cwots
was like a slyated hoos side, an thwar as pale as deeth ith
fyace like me sell; round about 'tfwor caw'd field, was
t'finest gravel gyate thou iver stept on, an there was
hundreds an thousans o'fwoks, stavilin about ont; I began to
be as mad as I was at cwolly when it brackt' neek oth'
bell-wedder, at they wauddent help t'man an his nag doun,
when it was amyast dark; I was mad an swet for feer, an
durstunt say a word, becuse there was sea menne
three-nyuk'd-hat-men there, an lyadies as they ca them, (I'd
better a been i'Borrodale,) I hev oft thought sen, if we had
yan othim lyadies amang our Bigg, she wad farra to keep
t'croes offt bravely. I ast a man at I kent, what wast
matter wi' sum oth wummen fwok, at they war sea bryad tya
way, an he telt me it was a fashon
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