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POEMS OF RURAL LIFE.
Out ov his hand all up above his head,
An’ pitch’d in vower corners o’ the groun’.
An’ then he velt his han’ get all so num’,
He coulden veel a vinger or a thum’;
An’ after that his eärm begun to zwell,
An’ in the night a-bed he vound
The skin o’t peelèn off all round.
’Twer near a month avore he got it well
JEM.
That wer yor hettèn ō’n. He should a let en
Alwone d’ye zee: ’twer wicked vor to het en.
