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MY PEOPLE
Penrhos, and Simon and Sara Jane went away in it: and as they passed through Manteg Bertha Daviss cried: “People bach, tell you me where you are going.”
Simon told her the glad news.
Bertha waved her hand, and she cried to the driver: “Boy nice, whip up, whip up, or you’ll have another passenger to carry.”
Mishtir Jenkins met Simon and Sara Jane at the door of the inn.
“Sara Jane,” he said, “stop you outside while me and your father expound to each other.”
He took Simon into the stable.
“Did you ask Beca about the yellow sovereigns?” he said.
“Iss, iss. Many sovereigns he will get.”
“How many?”
“Shinkins bach, why for he hurry? Bad it looks.”
“Sound the figures now, Simon.”
“Ten yellow sovereigns, dear me.”
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