Chapter IX

Take off thy duty stripes, Tim,
An' come wi' me in here,
Ta'e off thy p'lice-man's helmet
An' look me clear.

I wish tha hadna done it, Tim,
I do, an' that I do!
For whenever I look thee i' th' face, I s'll see
Her face too.

I wish tha could wesh 'er off'n thee,
For I used to think that thy
Face was the finest thing that iver
Met my eye....