Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/23

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Noo works ’ithin his head or belly.
An’ then we put upon the pack
The settle, flat upon his back;
An’ after that, a-tied in pairs
In woone another, all the chairs,
An’ bits o’ lumber wo’th a ride.
An’ at the very top a-tied,
The childern’s little stools did lie,
Wi’ lags a-turn’d towárd the sky:
Zoo there we lwoaded up our scroff,
An’ tied it vast, an’ started off.
An’,—as the waggon cooden car all
We had to teäke,—the butter-barrel
An’ cheese-wring, wi’ his twinèn screw.
An’ all the païls an’ veäts, an’ blue
Wold milk leads, and a vew things mwore,
Wer all a-carr’d the day avore,
And when the mwost ov our wold stuff
Wer brought outside o’ thik brown ruf,
I rambled roun’ wi’ narrow looks.
In fusty holes an’ darksome nooks,
To gather all I still mid vind,
O’ rags or sticks a-left behind.
An’ there the unlatch’d doors did creak,
A-swung by winds, a-streamèn weak
Drough empty rooms, an’ meäkèn sad
My heart, where me’th woonce meäde me glad.
Vor when a man do leäve the he’th
An’ ruf where vu’st he drew his breath,
Or where he had his bwoyhood’s fun,
An’ things wer woonce a-zaid an’ done
That took his mind, do touch his heart
A little bit, I’ll answer vor’t.
Zoo riddèn house is such a caddle,
That I would rather keep my staddle.