His hat wer broad, his cwoat wer brown,
Wi’ two long flaps a-hangèn down;
An’ vrom his knee went down a blue
Knit stockèn to his buckled shoe;
An’ aunt did pull her gown-taïl drough
Her pocket-hole, to keep en neat,
As she mid walk, or teäke a seat
By leafy boughs a-zwaÿèn.
An’ vu’st they’d goo to zee their lots
O’ pot-eärbs in the geärden plots;
An’ he, i’-may-be, by the hatch,
Would zee aunt’s vowls upon a patch
O’ zeeds, an’ vow if he could catch
Em wi’ his gun, they shoudden vlee
Noo mwore into their roostèn tree,
Wi’ leafy boughs a-swaÿèn.
An’ then vrom geärden they did pass
Drough orcha’d out to zee the grass,
An’ if the apple-blooth, so white,
Mid be at all a-touch’d wi’ blight;
An’ uncle, happy at the zight,
Did guess what cider there mid be
In all the orcha’d, tree wi’ tree,
Wi’ tutties all a-swaÿèn.
An’ then they stump’d along vrom there
A-vield, to zee the cows an’ meäre;
An’ she, when uncle come in zight,
Look’d up, an’ prick’d her ears upright,
An’ whicker’d out wi’ all her might;
An’ he, a-chucklèn, went to zee
The cows below the sheädy tree,
Wi’ leafy boughs a-swaÿen.
An’ last ov all, they went to know
How vast the grass in meäd did grow
