human
What,--be that you, sir? he enquired, at last, and then,--
gpt
Lord! an' what be you a doing of up theer?
human
Why, sleeping, of course,
gpt
W'ot--again! exclaimed the Waggoner with a grin,
human
Not when you're anywhere about!
gpt
Was it me as woke ye then?
human
Your singing did.
gpt
My singin'! Lord love ye, an' well it might! My singin' would wake the dead,--leastways so Prudence says, an' she's generally right, --leastways, if she ain't, she's a uncommon good cook, an' that goes a long way wi' most of us. But I don't sing very often unless I be alone, or easy in my mind an' 'appy-'earted,--which I ain't.
human
No?
gpt
Not by no manner o' means, I ain't,--contrariwise my 'eart be sore an' full o' gloom,--which ain't to be wondered at, nohow.
human
And yet you were singing.
gpt
Aye, for sure I were singin', but then who could help singin' on such a mornin' as this be, an' wi' the black-bird a-piping away in the tree here. Oh! I were singin', I don't go for to deny it, but it's sore 'earted I be, an' filled wi' gloom sir, notwithstanding.
human
You mean, said Bellew, becoming suddenly thoughtful,
gpt
Lord bless you, no sir! This ain't no spectre, nor yet no skellington,--which, arter all, is only old bones an' such,--no this ain't nothin' of that sort, an' no more it ain't a thing as I can stand 'ere a maggin' about wi' a long day's work afore me, axing your pardon, sir.