An’ watchèn uncle up so sprack,
Vorgot her veet, an’ vell down smack
Athirt the house-dog’s shaggy back,
That wer in passage vor a snooze,
Beyond the reach o’ dancers’ shoes,
While music wer a-soundèn.
WHAT DICK AN’ I DID.
Last week the Browns ax’d nearly all
The naïghbours to a randy,
An’ left us out o’t, girt an’ small,
Vor all we liv’d so handy;
An’ zoo I zaid to Dick, “We’ll trudge,
When they be in their fun, min;
An’ car up zome’hat to the rudge,
An’ jis’ stop up the tun, min.”
Zoo, wi’ the ladder vrom the rick,
We stole towards the house,
An’ crope in roun’ behind en, lik’
A cat upon a mouse.
Then, lookèn roun’, Dick whisper’d “How
Is theäse job to be done, min:
Why we do want a faggot now,
Vor stoppèn up the tun, min.”
“Stan’ still,” I answer’d; “I’ll teäke ceäre
O’ that: why dussen zee
The little grindèn stwone out there,
Below the apple-tree?
Put up the ladder; in a crack
Shalt zee that I wull run, min,
An’ teäke en up upon my back,
An’ soon stop up the tun, min.”
