... and aout he come rasher nor iver, knockin' here and knockin' there, tell you couldn't hardly sleep for he.

The phone would answer, we'd go round the corner, pass something to someone, go back and we'd have bare dough, we'd have bare money in our pocket.

[…]In whatſoever ſhape he lurk,[…]

There were picnic tables set up on the factory's sprawling front lawn, so we each ordered a mushroom burger topped with caramelized onions and grainy mustard on a bed of baby greens. Not exactly fun on a bun, but surprisingly delicious.