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'URRY!
Dad, ju'll 'ave to take an' talk to that young Turk.
Ev'ry time 'e goes to town there,
'E just stays an' loafs aroun' there;
While 'e leaves us wimmin 'ere to slave an' work.
'Ave you cleaned the sepy-rater, Nell? Well, get along to bed.
No; you can't go 'crost to Thompson's place to-night;
You wus there las' Chusday—See, miss,
Don't chu toss your head at me, miss!
I won't 'ave it. Mary, 'urry with that light!
Now then, get yer Dad the paper. Set down, Dad—ju must be tired.
'Ere, Matilder, put that almanick away!
Where's them stockin's I wus darnin'?
Bill an' Mary, stop yer yarnin'!
Now then, Dad. Heigh-ho! Me fust sit down ter-day.
