Mossycoat - extract
"Mum!" she said. "Mum! There's a horrible old hawker man at the door '
"Oh, he's back, is he? What's he want?"
"He wants to marry me!"
"Well, do you want to marry him?"
"No, I don't!"
"All right," said her mother, "now you listen to me. You go and tell him that you'll marry him next week, as long as he brings you a dress. You understand? A white satin dress with gold sprigs on it, and it's got to fit you perfect."
"And will I have to marry him then?"
"Go and do as you're told."
So the girl went to the door and she said, "Well, I don't know. But if I do marry you, I need a proper wedding dress. You come back next week with a white satin dress all covered in gold sprigs this big, no this big, and we'll see. Oh, and it's got to fit me perfect."
"Hoo-hoo," chortled the hawker. "I'll be back! I'll be back! Giss a look at you, so I can judge your size."
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