Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/196

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That if you’ll come an’ jus’ get drough
Theäse gap up here, why you mid vill your belly.
Why, they’ve a-been a-drillèn corn, d’ye know,
In theäse here piece o’ groun’ below;
An’ if you’ll just put in your snout,
An’ run en up along a drill,
Why, hang it! you mid grub it out,
An’ eat, an’ eat your vill.
Their idden any fear that vo’k mid come,
Vor all the men be jist a-gone in hwome.”
The pig, believèn ev’ry single word
That wer a-twold en by the cunnèn bird
Wer only vor his good, an’ that ’twer true,
Just gi’ed a grunt, an’ bundled drough,
An’ het his nose, wi’ all his might an’ maïn,
Right up a drill, a-routèn up the graïn;
An’ as the cunnèn crow did gi’e a caw
A-praisèn ō’n, oh! he did veel so proud!
An’ work’d, an’ blow’d, an’ toss’d, an’ ploughed
The while the cunnèn crow did vill his maw.
An’ after workèn till his bwones
Did eäche, he soon begun to veel
That he should never get a meal,
Unless he dined on dirt an’ stwones.
“Well,” zaid the crow, “why don’t ye eat?”
“Eat what, I wonder!” zaid the heäiry plougher,
A-brislèn up an’ lookèn rather zour;
“I don’t think dirt an’ flints be any treat.”
“Well,” zaid the crow, “why you be blind.
What! don’t ye zee how thick the corn do lie
Among the dirt? An’ don’t ye zee how I
Do pick up all that you do leäve behind?
I’m zorry that your bill should be so snubby.”
“No,” zaid the pig, “methinks that I do zee
My bill will do uncommon well vor thee,
Vor thine wull peck, an’ mine wull grubby.”