'I never see'd a fairy as I know on, but I used to sarve one on 'em
wi' milk. Yo' mon stare; but th' way on it wir this. I wir at mi wark
i' th' dairy one day, abaat th' edge o' dark, when o ov a suddent a
loile jug clapt itsel daan afooar mi on th' stooan. Yo' may be sure I
wir fair capt, for wheear it come fray, or heaw it geet theear, I
couldn't mek aat. I stoopt mi daan to pike howd on it, and it met a'
bin silver, it wir that breet and bonnie; but it wir as leet as a
feather, an' I couldn't tell what it wir med on. I wir baan to set it
o' th' stooan again, when I seed at a new sixpenny bit hed bin put
theer wi' it, so it struck mi as milk wir wantit. Accordingly I fillt
th' jug and seet it daan again, an' welly as soon as I'd clapt it
wheear I fun' it, it up an' whipt eaut o' seet. Well I thowt it
meeterly quare, bud I'd heeard mi feyther say, monny an' monny a
toime, as thuse as geet fairy brass gin 'em should tell nubry, so I
kept it to mysen, though I'd hard wark, yo' may be sure. Every neet
th' jug an' th' sixpenny bit clapt theirsens o' th' stooan as reglar
as milkin' toime, an' I fillt th' jug and piked up th' brass. At last,
ha'ever, I thowt happen no lumber could come on it if I towd nobbut
one, so when Roger theear and me settlet a beein wed I towd him what
sooart ov a nest-egg I'd getten so quarely. Mi feyther wir reet,
ha'ever, for th' next neet nayther jug nor th' sixpenny bit showed
thersels, an' fray that day to this I've sin no mooar on 'em, an' it's
ower forty year sin I piked up th' last brass.{3}