I was on the illy seaboard follow. Dreckly, pized dawn started. My fingers steeved. The follow bifurcated. Pant set in with the fog. Dreckly it would be dumments. All I had was a bisky. No water left. I was chacking as hell. Izza this way or that? The hummin mud cloaked my feet. My legs were wisht. Then I heard a squall and came upon a woman and a cheel. 

“Awright n aree?” zed the woman.

“Ez. But fariza to the hem, sno?” I asked.

“Mygar,” she laughed. “Idn far,” tokening. 

I squalled with relief. 

“Werzetoo en?” she zed, tight-like. 

I shook my head.

“Tizzardlee on!” A bit teasy, she was. 

To keep afrith, I zed: “Ez-yau, sno.” 

She saw through my lie. “Gis-on!” A real craker. 

I started on my way.

“Ullona mete, Pard,” she zed. “Here, have this oggy to keep you proper till you’re home.” Niceys-like. 

Just then the cheel squalled: “Cumoz on now with her?”  

But the woman was tight again: “Tizzardlee on, cheel!”

I’d had enough of her dunun.

The pized dawn and fog cleared. I said good-bye and was dreckly home. 

Aught ill aught crake, mygar. 

The only word I don’t like in Cornish is the word for young woman. C’mon.

I was on the steep coast trail. Soon, heavy rain started. My fingers were frozen. The trail bifurcated. Panic set in with the fog. Soon it would be twilight. All I had was a biscuit. No water left. I was thirsty as hell. Is it this way or that? The stinking mud trapped my feet. My legs were weak. Then I heard a cry and came upon a young woman and a child. 

“Are you okay?” said the woman. 

“Yes. But how far is it to the village, do you know?” I asked.

“My goodness,” she laughed. “It is not far,” pointing. 

I cried with relief. 

“Where is your companion?” She said it mean-like. 

I shook my head.

“You cannot be serious!” A bit bad-tempered, she was. 

To keep the peace, I said: “I agree, you know.” 

She saw through my lie. “Don’t talk rubbish to me.” A real complainer. 

I started on my way.

“Wait a minute, friend,” she said. “Here, have this pasty to keep you satisfactory til you’re home.” Nice of her.  

“Can we go with her?” asked the child. 

“You cannot be serious, Pixie,” she said to the child. 

By then the heavy rain and fog had cleared. I said good-bye and was soon home. 

All’s well that ends well.