I'LL tell ye aboot the Collingham ghost,An' a rare aud ghost was he;For he cud laff, an' he cud talk,An' run, an' jump, an' flee.He went aboot hither an' thither,An' freeten'd sum out o' thir wits,He freeten'd the parson as weel as the clark,An' lots beside them into fits.The poor aud man wha teak the towlAt Collingham bar for monny a year,He dursn't cum out to opp'n his yatFor fear the ghost sud be near.He teak to his bed an' there he laid,For monny a neet an' day;His yat was aulas wide opp'n thrown,An' nean ivver stopp't to pay.And Jerry wha kept the public house,An' sell'd gud yal to all,Curs'd the ghost wi' hearty gud will,For neabody stopp'd to call.It made sike a noise all round aboot,That folks com far to see;Sum sed it was a dreadful thing,An' sum sed it was a lee.Gamkeepers com wi' dogs an' guns,Thinking it was some comical beast;An' they wad aither kill him or catch him,Or drive him awa at least.Sea into Lady wood right they wentYah beautiful meenleet neet;A lot o' great men an' a lot o' ruff dogs,Enew a poor ghost to eat.They watid lang—the ghost didn't come,They began to laff an' rail,—"If he cum oot ov hiz den," says yan,"We'll clap a bit o' saut ov hiz tail.""Nay he knoos better then turn oot,When we are here to watch him,He'd git a bullit through his lug,Or Mungo there wad catch him."When close to their heads wi' a terrible clatterThe ghost went wherrin up,An' ower the woods he lafft an' shoutid,"Bobo, bobo! who whoop, who whoop!"The gamkeepers all tummled doon,Their hair thrast off their hat,They gaped an' grean'd an' roll'd aboot,An' their hearts went pit-a-pat.Thir feaces were white as onny clout,An' they sed nivver a word,They cudn't tell what the ghost was like,Whether 'twas a beast or a bird.They stay'd nea langer i' th' wood that neet,Poor men were nivver dafter,They ran awa hame as fast as they cud,An' thir dogs ran yelping after.The parson then, a larned man,Sed he wad conjur the ghost;He was sure it was nea wandrin beast,But a spirit that was lost.All languages this parson knewThat onny man can chat in,The Ebrew, Greek, an' Irish too,As weel as Dutch an' Latin.O! he cud talk an' read an' preach,Few men knew mair or better,An' nearly all the bukes he read,Wer printed in black letter.He read a neet, he read a day,To mak him fit for his wark,An' when he thowt he was quite up,He sent for the awd clark.The clark was quickly by his side,He took but little fettlin,An' awa they went wi' right gud willTo gie the ghost a settlin.Aye off they set wi' all thir might,Nor stoppt at thin or thick,The parson wi' his sark an' buke,The clark wi' a thick stick.At last by t' side o' th' bank they stopptWhere Wharfe runs murmrin clear,A beautiful river breet an' fine,As onny in wide Yorkshire.The parson then began to read,An' read full loud an' lang,The rabbits they ran in an' oot,An' wonder'd what was rang.The ghost was listnin in a hole,An' oot he bang'd at last,The fluttrin o' his mighty wings,Was like a whirlwind blast.He lafft an' shooted as he flewUntil the wild woods rang;His who-who-whoop was nivver heardSea lood an' clear, an' strang.The parson he fell backwards owerInto a bush o' whins,An' lost his buke, an' rave his sark,An' prickt his hans an' shins.The clark he tried to run awaBut tumm'ld ower his stick,An' there he made a nasty smellWhile he did yell an' fick.An' lots o' pranks this ghost he play'dThat here I dar'nt tell,For if I did folks wad declareI was as ill as his-sel.For eighteen[246]months an' mair he stay'd,An' just did as he thowt;For lord nor duke, parson nor clark,He fear'd, nor cared nowt.Efter that time he went awa,Just when it pleas'd his-sel;But what he was, or whar he com fraNea mortal man can tell.
I'LL tell ye aboot the Collingham ghost,An' a rare aud ghost was he;For he cud laff, an' he cud talk,An' run, an' jump, an' flee.He went aboot hither an' thither,An' freeten'd sum out o' thir wits,He freeten'd the parson as weel as the clark,An' lots beside them into fits.The poor aud man wha teak the towlAt Collingham bar for monny a year,He dursn't cum out to opp'n his yatFor fear the ghost sud be near.He teak to his bed an' there he laid,For monny a neet an' day;His yat was aulas wide opp'n thrown,An' nean ivver stopp't to pay.And Jerry wha kept the public house,An' sell'd gud yal to all,Curs'd the ghost wi' hearty gud will,For neabody stopp'd to call.It made sike a noise all round aboot,That folks com far to see;Sum sed it was a dreadful thing,An' sum sed it was a lee.Gamkeepers com wi' dogs an' guns,Thinking it was some comical beast;An' they wad aither kill him or catch him,Or drive him awa at least.Sea into Lady wood right they wentYah beautiful meenleet neet;A lot o' great men an' a lot o' ruff dogs,Enew a poor ghost to eat.They watid lang—the ghost didn't come,They began to laff an' rail,—"If he cum oot ov hiz den," says yan,"We'll clap a bit o' saut ov hiz tail.""Nay he knoos better then turn oot,When we are here to watch him,He'd git a bullit through his lug,Or Mungo there wad catch him."When close to their heads wi' a terrible clatterThe ghost went wherrin up,An' ower the woods he lafft an' shoutid,"Bobo, bobo! who whoop, who whoop!"The gamkeepers all tummled doon,Their hair thrast off their hat,They gaped an' grean'd an' roll'd aboot,An' their hearts went pit-a-pat.Thir feaces were white as onny clout,An' they sed nivver a word,They cudn't tell what the ghost was like,Whether 'twas a beast or a bird.They stay'd nea langer i' th' wood that neet,Poor men were nivver dafter,They ran awa hame as fast as they cud,An' thir dogs ran yelping after.The parson then, a larned man,Sed he wad conjur the ghost;He was sure it was nea wandrin beast,But a spirit that was lost.All languages this parson knewThat onny man can chat in,The Ebrew, Greek, an' Irish too,As weel as Dutch an' Latin.O! he cud talk an' read an' preach,Few men knew mair or better,An' nearly all the bukes he read,Wer printed in black letter.He read a neet, he read a day,To mak him fit for his wark,An' when he thowt he was quite up,He sent for the awd clark.The clark was quickly by his side,He took but little fettlin,An' awa they went wi' right gud willTo gie the ghost a settlin.Aye off they set wi' all thir might,Nor stoppt at thin or thick,The parson wi' his sark an' buke,The clark wi' a thick stick.At last by t' side o' th' bank they stopptWhere Wharfe runs murmrin clear,A beautiful river breet an' fine,As onny in wide Yorkshire.The parson then began to read,An' read full loud an' lang,The rabbits they ran in an' oot,An' wonder'd what was rang.The ghost was listnin in a hole,An' oot he bang'd at last,The fluttrin o' his mighty wings,Was like a whirlwind blast.He lafft an' shooted as he flewUntil the wild woods rang;His who-who-whoop was nivver heardSea lood an' clear, an' strang.The parson he fell backwards owerInto a bush o' whins,An' lost his buke, an' rave his sark,An' prickt his hans an' shins.The clark he tried to run awaBut tumm'ld ower his stick,An' there he made a nasty smellWhile he did yell an' fick.An' lots o' pranks this ghost he play'dThat here I dar'nt tell,For if I did folks wad declareI was as ill as his-sel.For eighteen[246]months an' mair he stay'd,An' just did as he thowt;For lord nor duke, parson nor clark,He fear'd, nor cared nowt.Efter that time he went awa,Just when it pleas'd his-sel;But what he was, or whar he com fraNea mortal man can tell.
I'LL tell ye aboot the Collingham ghost,An' a rare aud ghost was he;For he cud laff, an' he cud talk,An' run, an' jump, an' flee.
I'LL tell ye aboot the Collingham ghost,
An' a rare aud ghost was he;
For he cud laff, an' he cud talk,
An' run, an' jump, an' flee.
He went aboot hither an' thither,An' freeten'd sum out o' thir wits,He freeten'd the parson as weel as the clark,An' lots beside them into fits.
He went aboot hither an' thither,
An' freeten'd sum out o' thir wits,
He freeten'd the parson as weel as the clark,
An' lots beside them into fits.
The poor aud man wha teak the towlAt Collingham bar for monny a year,He dursn't cum out to opp'n his yatFor fear the ghost sud be near.
The poor aud man wha teak the towl
At Collingham bar for monny a year,
He dursn't cum out to opp'n his yat
For fear the ghost sud be near.
He teak to his bed an' there he laid,For monny a neet an' day;His yat was aulas wide opp'n thrown,An' nean ivver stopp't to pay.
He teak to his bed an' there he laid,
For monny a neet an' day;
His yat was aulas wide opp'n thrown,
An' nean ivver stopp't to pay.
And Jerry wha kept the public house,An' sell'd gud yal to all,Curs'd the ghost wi' hearty gud will,For neabody stopp'd to call.
And Jerry wha kept the public house,
An' sell'd gud yal to all,
Curs'd the ghost wi' hearty gud will,
For neabody stopp'd to call.
It made sike a noise all round aboot,That folks com far to see;Sum sed it was a dreadful thing,An' sum sed it was a lee.
It made sike a noise all round aboot,
That folks com far to see;
Sum sed it was a dreadful thing,
An' sum sed it was a lee.
Gamkeepers com wi' dogs an' guns,Thinking it was some comical beast;An' they wad aither kill him or catch him,Or drive him awa at least.
Gamkeepers com wi' dogs an' guns,
Thinking it was some comical beast;
An' they wad aither kill him or catch him,
Or drive him awa at least.
Sea into Lady wood right they wentYah beautiful meenleet neet;A lot o' great men an' a lot o' ruff dogs,Enew a poor ghost to eat.
Sea into Lady wood right they went
Yah beautiful meenleet neet;
A lot o' great men an' a lot o' ruff dogs,
Enew a poor ghost to eat.
They watid lang—the ghost didn't come,They began to laff an' rail,—"If he cum oot ov hiz den," says yan,"We'll clap a bit o' saut ov hiz tail."
They watid lang—the ghost didn't come,
They began to laff an' rail,—
"If he cum oot ov hiz den," says yan,
"We'll clap a bit o' saut ov hiz tail."
"Nay he knoos better then turn oot,When we are here to watch him,He'd git a bullit through his lug,Or Mungo there wad catch him."
"Nay he knoos better then turn oot,
When we are here to watch him,
He'd git a bullit through his lug,
Or Mungo there wad catch him."
When close to their heads wi' a terrible clatterThe ghost went wherrin up,An' ower the woods he lafft an' shoutid,"Bobo, bobo! who whoop, who whoop!"
When close to their heads wi' a terrible clatter
The ghost went wherrin up,
An' ower the woods he lafft an' shoutid,
"Bobo, bobo! who whoop, who whoop!"
The gamkeepers all tummled doon,Their hair thrast off their hat,They gaped an' grean'd an' roll'd aboot,An' their hearts went pit-a-pat.
The gamkeepers all tummled doon,
Their hair thrast off their hat,
They gaped an' grean'd an' roll'd aboot,
An' their hearts went pit-a-pat.
Thir feaces were white as onny clout,An' they sed nivver a word,They cudn't tell what the ghost was like,Whether 'twas a beast or a bird.
Thir feaces were white as onny clout,
An' they sed nivver a word,
They cudn't tell what the ghost was like,
Whether 'twas a beast or a bird.
They stay'd nea langer i' th' wood that neet,Poor men were nivver dafter,They ran awa hame as fast as they cud,An' thir dogs ran yelping after.
They stay'd nea langer i' th' wood that neet,
Poor men were nivver dafter,
They ran awa hame as fast as they cud,
An' thir dogs ran yelping after.
The parson then, a larned man,Sed he wad conjur the ghost;He was sure it was nea wandrin beast,But a spirit that was lost.
The parson then, a larned man,
Sed he wad conjur the ghost;
He was sure it was nea wandrin beast,
But a spirit that was lost.
All languages this parson knewThat onny man can chat in,The Ebrew, Greek, an' Irish too,As weel as Dutch an' Latin.
All languages this parson knew
That onny man can chat in,
The Ebrew, Greek, an' Irish too,
As weel as Dutch an' Latin.
O! he cud talk an' read an' preach,Few men knew mair or better,An' nearly all the bukes he read,Wer printed in black letter.
O! he cud talk an' read an' preach,
Few men knew mair or better,
An' nearly all the bukes he read,
Wer printed in black letter.
He read a neet, he read a day,To mak him fit for his wark,An' when he thowt he was quite up,He sent for the awd clark.
He read a neet, he read a day,
To mak him fit for his wark,
An' when he thowt he was quite up,
He sent for the awd clark.
The clark was quickly by his side,He took but little fettlin,An' awa they went wi' right gud willTo gie the ghost a settlin.
The clark was quickly by his side,
He took but little fettlin,
An' awa they went wi' right gud will
To gie the ghost a settlin.
Aye off they set wi' all thir might,Nor stoppt at thin or thick,The parson wi' his sark an' buke,The clark wi' a thick stick.
Aye off they set wi' all thir might,
Nor stoppt at thin or thick,
The parson wi' his sark an' buke,
The clark wi' a thick stick.
At last by t' side o' th' bank they stopptWhere Wharfe runs murmrin clear,A beautiful river breet an' fine,As onny in wide Yorkshire.
At last by t' side o' th' bank they stoppt
Where Wharfe runs murmrin clear,
A beautiful river breet an' fine,
As onny in wide Yorkshire.
The parson then began to read,An' read full loud an' lang,The rabbits they ran in an' oot,An' wonder'd what was rang.
The parson then began to read,
An' read full loud an' lang,
The rabbits they ran in an' oot,
An' wonder'd what was rang.
The ghost was listnin in a hole,An' oot he bang'd at last,The fluttrin o' his mighty wings,Was like a whirlwind blast.
The ghost was listnin in a hole,
An' oot he bang'd at last,
The fluttrin o' his mighty wings,
Was like a whirlwind blast.
He lafft an' shooted as he flewUntil the wild woods rang;His who-who-whoop was nivver heardSea lood an' clear, an' strang.
He lafft an' shooted as he flew
Until the wild woods rang;
His who-who-whoop was nivver heard
Sea lood an' clear, an' strang.
The parson he fell backwards owerInto a bush o' whins,An' lost his buke, an' rave his sark,An' prickt his hans an' shins.
The parson he fell backwards ower
Into a bush o' whins,
An' lost his buke, an' rave his sark,
An' prickt his hans an' shins.
The clark he tried to run awaBut tumm'ld ower his stick,An' there he made a nasty smellWhile he did yell an' fick.
The clark he tried to run awa
But tumm'ld ower his stick,
An' there he made a nasty smell
While he did yell an' fick.
An' lots o' pranks this ghost he play'dThat here I dar'nt tell,For if I did folks wad declareI was as ill as his-sel.
An' lots o' pranks this ghost he play'd
That here I dar'nt tell,
For if I did folks wad declare
I was as ill as his-sel.
For eighteen[246]months an' mair he stay'd,An' just did as he thowt;For lord nor duke, parson nor clark,He fear'd, nor cared nowt.
For eighteen[246]months an' mair he stay'd,
An' just did as he thowt;
For lord nor duke, parson nor clark,
He fear'd, nor cared nowt.
Efter that time he went awa,Just when it pleas'd his-sel;But what he was, or whar he com fraNea mortal man can tell.
Efter that time he went awa,
Just when it pleas'd his-sel;
But what he was, or whar he com fra
Nea mortal man can tell.
Astory of two rustics, and the history of their several mistakes during a holiday which they took, in 1842, to go to Scarborough to see the Florentine Venus, then being exhibited in that town.
'Twas on a fiahne cleer sunny day,Aboot the end o' summer,When all the goa was Scarbro' spo,Between the Tees an Hummer.Coaches grained 'neath top heavy leeads,Gigs, carriages an sike like,Skew'd dust like fun fra' all the rooads,At' end at Scarbro' tonpike.Lauk! what a dust there was kick'd upLike deed what blustrin storance,A waint queer seeght was seen that da,Some waxwark thing fra Florence.Jerry an Jack, twea treshers bold,Wer bangin 'oot and barley,A dusty trade, hard by the rooadSweatin an broilin rarly."Dod dang," says Jack, "yau knocks an delves,Digs, plews, sows, maws, an what for?Pately at yau may live yau's sens,Bud mare to keep up that, Jer."He pointed ti twea carriage leead'O fashionable people;Wea seem'd to knoo the arts 'o ease,Sat couple feeacing couple."Why can't we hev a bit 'o spree,As weel as uther folks, Jer?""I deean't see why," quoth Jer, "dang me!If ahle ageean strike strooak, ser."Afoor I'v seen that Florance thing,It nobbut costs a shillin;Besides I lang ti hev a spree,An get a thorough swillin.""Bonni!" says Jack, "bonni, my lad,I like the risolution;Let's hev thi hand, thi scheeam's weel plan'd,We'll het i' execution."Seea Jack and Jer shack'd hands and showd'At peasant cud wi peasant,Like prince wi prince, an lord wi lord,Laugh loud, feel pleased, luke pleasant.Seea yam tha went, wesh'd, scrub'd, an brush'd,An sware tha wad hev rare spooat;An eeach put on his bran new suit,New breeches, cooat, an waiscooat.An off tha went: "God speed ya weel!"Cried Jinny, that was Jack's wife;"An i' yer harts his love reveeal,""I wop yoo'll hev a pleasant da.""I wop you will," said Jenny:"I wop we sal," said Jack, "hurra!""I wop we sal," said Jerry.An tha wer gone, lauk hoo tha preached,An laugh'd all't way tha though;Far on afoor their voices reach'd,Ther mirth was getin vent so.The wavy fiels 'o yallow wheat,Spread wide i' view ther treasure;The side swung wots, an bearded John,'At fills the tankard measure,Did sweetly vie wi promisesZi fill oor barns wi plenty:"Thank God," says Jack, "these are his gifts,Ye fields 'twas him at sent ye."Plenty thronged like an empress satUpon the broo 'o Cayton;Wea laughed an made the hills ti smileFor miles round bonny Ayton.
'Twas on a fiahne cleer sunny day,Aboot the end o' summer,When all the goa was Scarbro' spo,Between the Tees an Hummer.Coaches grained 'neath top heavy leeads,Gigs, carriages an sike like,Skew'd dust like fun fra' all the rooads,At' end at Scarbro' tonpike.Lauk! what a dust there was kick'd upLike deed what blustrin storance,A waint queer seeght was seen that da,Some waxwark thing fra Florence.Jerry an Jack, twea treshers bold,Wer bangin 'oot and barley,A dusty trade, hard by the rooadSweatin an broilin rarly."Dod dang," says Jack, "yau knocks an delves,Digs, plews, sows, maws, an what for?Pately at yau may live yau's sens,Bud mare to keep up that, Jer."He pointed ti twea carriage leead'O fashionable people;Wea seem'd to knoo the arts 'o ease,Sat couple feeacing couple."Why can't we hev a bit 'o spree,As weel as uther folks, Jer?""I deean't see why," quoth Jer, "dang me!If ahle ageean strike strooak, ser."Afoor I'v seen that Florance thing,It nobbut costs a shillin;Besides I lang ti hev a spree,An get a thorough swillin.""Bonni!" says Jack, "bonni, my lad,I like the risolution;Let's hev thi hand, thi scheeam's weel plan'd,We'll het i' execution."Seea Jack and Jer shack'd hands and showd'At peasant cud wi peasant,Like prince wi prince, an lord wi lord,Laugh loud, feel pleased, luke pleasant.Seea yam tha went, wesh'd, scrub'd, an brush'd,An sware tha wad hev rare spooat;An eeach put on his bran new suit,New breeches, cooat, an waiscooat.An off tha went: "God speed ya weel!"Cried Jinny, that was Jack's wife;"An i' yer harts his love reveeal,""I wop yoo'll hev a pleasant da.""I wop you will," said Jenny:"I wop we sal," said Jack, "hurra!""I wop we sal," said Jerry.An tha wer gone, lauk hoo tha preached,An laugh'd all't way tha though;Far on afoor their voices reach'd,Ther mirth was getin vent so.The wavy fiels 'o yallow wheat,Spread wide i' view ther treasure;The side swung wots, an bearded John,'At fills the tankard measure,Did sweetly vie wi promisesZi fill oor barns wi plenty:"Thank God," says Jack, "these are his gifts,Ye fields 'twas him at sent ye."Plenty thronged like an empress satUpon the broo 'o Cayton;Wea laughed an made the hills ti smileFor miles round bonny Ayton.
'Twas on a fiahne cleer sunny day,Aboot the end o' summer,When all the goa was Scarbro' spo,Between the Tees an Hummer.
'Twas on a fiahne cleer sunny day,
Aboot the end o' summer,
When all the goa was Scarbro' spo,
Between the Tees an Hummer.
Coaches grained 'neath top heavy leeads,Gigs, carriages an sike like,Skew'd dust like fun fra' all the rooads,At' end at Scarbro' tonpike.
Coaches grained 'neath top heavy leeads,
Gigs, carriages an sike like,
Skew'd dust like fun fra' all the rooads,
At' end at Scarbro' tonpike.
Lauk! what a dust there was kick'd upLike deed what blustrin storance,A waint queer seeght was seen that da,Some waxwark thing fra Florence.
Lauk! what a dust there was kick'd up
Like deed what blustrin storance,
A waint queer seeght was seen that da,
Some waxwark thing fra Florence.
Jerry an Jack, twea treshers bold,Wer bangin 'oot and barley,A dusty trade, hard by the rooadSweatin an broilin rarly.
Jerry an Jack, twea treshers bold,
Wer bangin 'oot and barley,
A dusty trade, hard by the rooad
Sweatin an broilin rarly.
"Dod dang," says Jack, "yau knocks an delves,Digs, plews, sows, maws, an what for?Pately at yau may live yau's sens,Bud mare to keep up that, Jer."
"Dod dang," says Jack, "yau knocks an delves,
Digs, plews, sows, maws, an what for?
Pately at yau may live yau's sens,
Bud mare to keep up that, Jer."
He pointed ti twea carriage leead'O fashionable people;Wea seem'd to knoo the arts 'o ease,Sat couple feeacing couple.
He pointed ti twea carriage leead
'O fashionable people;
Wea seem'd to knoo the arts 'o ease,
Sat couple feeacing couple.
"Why can't we hev a bit 'o spree,As weel as uther folks, Jer?""I deean't see why," quoth Jer, "dang me!If ahle ageean strike strooak, ser.
"Why can't we hev a bit 'o spree,
As weel as uther folks, Jer?"
"I deean't see why," quoth Jer, "dang me!
If ahle ageean strike strooak, ser.
"Afoor I'v seen that Florance thing,It nobbut costs a shillin;Besides I lang ti hev a spree,An get a thorough swillin."
"Afoor I'v seen that Florance thing,
It nobbut costs a shillin;
Besides I lang ti hev a spree,
An get a thorough swillin."
"Bonni!" says Jack, "bonni, my lad,I like the risolution;Let's hev thi hand, thi scheeam's weel plan'd,We'll het i' execution."
"Bonni!" says Jack, "bonni, my lad,
I like the risolution;
Let's hev thi hand, thi scheeam's weel plan'd,
We'll het i' execution."
Seea Jack and Jer shack'd hands and showd'At peasant cud wi peasant,Like prince wi prince, an lord wi lord,Laugh loud, feel pleased, luke pleasant.
Seea Jack and Jer shack'd hands and showd
'At peasant cud wi peasant,
Like prince wi prince, an lord wi lord,
Laugh loud, feel pleased, luke pleasant.
Seea yam tha went, wesh'd, scrub'd, an brush'd,An sware tha wad hev rare spooat;An eeach put on his bran new suit,New breeches, cooat, an waiscooat.
Seea yam tha went, wesh'd, scrub'd, an brush'd,
An sware tha wad hev rare spooat;
An eeach put on his bran new suit,
New breeches, cooat, an waiscooat.
An off tha went: "God speed ya weel!"Cried Jinny, that was Jack's wife;"An i' yer harts his love reveeal,"
An off tha went: "God speed ya weel!"
Cried Jinny, that was Jack's wife;
"An i' yer harts his love reveeal,"
"I wop yoo'll hev a pleasant da.""I wop you will," said Jenny:"I wop we sal," said Jack, "hurra!""I wop we sal," said Jerry.
"I wop yoo'll hev a pleasant da."
"I wop you will," said Jenny:
"I wop we sal," said Jack, "hurra!"
"I wop we sal," said Jerry.
An tha wer gone, lauk hoo tha preached,An laugh'd all't way tha though;Far on afoor their voices reach'd,Ther mirth was getin vent so.
An tha wer gone, lauk hoo tha preached,
An laugh'd all't way tha though;
Far on afoor their voices reach'd,
Ther mirth was getin vent so.
The wavy fiels 'o yallow wheat,Spread wide i' view ther treasure;The side swung wots, an bearded John,'At fills the tankard measure,
The wavy fiels 'o yallow wheat,
Spread wide i' view ther treasure;
The side swung wots, an bearded John,
'At fills the tankard measure,
Did sweetly vie wi promisesZi fill oor barns wi plenty:"Thank God," says Jack, "these are his gifts,Ye fields 'twas him at sent ye."
Did sweetly vie wi promises
Zi fill oor barns wi plenty:
"Thank God," says Jack, "these are his gifts,
Ye fields 'twas him at sent ye."
Plenty thronged like an empress satUpon the broo 'o Cayton;Wea laughed an made the hills ti smileFor miles round bonny Ayton.
Plenty thronged like an empress sat
Upon the broo 'o Cayton;
Wea laughed an made the hills ti smile
For miles round bonny Ayton.
THE neighbours all remember weelOnce Dolly bought a gaon;A painted lin, the grandest thing;Ther but one piece ith taon.The boy ith shop he teld her soa;A merry joaking lad:He said it wor t' first gaon o't pieceThat ony one had had:—And if shoo'd come when it wor made,And let him see it on,A handkerchy he'd give to her,If he're a living man.The gaon wor made, to 'th church shoo went;But what gave most delight,Shoo heeard foulks whisper as shoo past,I never so the like!But when shoo coom at Rubin's cot,A hut that stood o'th moor,Old Rubin sat, and Grace his wife,Both smooking at the door."Good morning, Dolly," old Grace said,"I wonder'd wo't could be."Surprised shoo stud, her hands both up,"What mun I live to see!""Is tat thy choice," old Rubin said,—"Tha beots old Judy Gazer,Shoo'd fifty gaons, but nooan like that,—I'gy it is a blazer!"Gay Dolly laugh'd, old Rubin said—"Come in and sit te daon;"But Dolly tript along the green,Delighted with her gaon.The church shoo enter'd, 'twor begun,The best time to be seen;Some sat and star'd, and some stood up,As if shoo'd been the queen.This confirm'd Dolly in her choice;Her gaon wurt first in stile:The priest, and clark, and all did stare,And some, shoo thought, did smile.This printed gaon had broad green leaves,With branches thick and tall;Red burds and yollow, ducks and geese,The huntsman, haonds and all.Thus Dolly sat, like Sheba's queen,The grandest in the place;A sidelong glance sometimes shoo castBut did not turn her face.Her prayer-book shoo seem'd to read,As other people do;But her devotion was her dress,Her gaon wor spanking new.The church did loase, and still they star'd;Some laugh'd and made a stur:The childer too came running raond,One pointing said, "That's hur.""Ah! what a gaon!" shoo heeard 'em say,"Wi yollow burds and red:It's just sich stuff as gentle fooakMakes curtains for their bed."This confused Dolly all at once,Shoo knew not where shoo'er baon;For fooaks shoo met, they laugh'd and said—"Haa like ye yo'r new gaon?"But Dolly shoo would speyk to nooan;To meet fouk shoo were feard:For some took hold o' Dolly's gaon,And ast what twor a yeord.Shoo call'd to see old Betty Hay,While chapel fouk went past;As shoo went in shoo heeard 'em say,"Shoo's getten here at last."This wor a spice shop, where t' lads met;A merry hoil it ware:Lads making fun o' all they could,And Dolly gat her share.The haaos wor fill'd, but all gave place;"Come, Dolly, sit ye daon:"When hoaf a dozen lads cried aaot—"That is a bonny gaon!""Yo've bet'em, Dolly, all to day;Yo'r gaon is first in stile:It's been admir'd by all ith church,Old priest, we saw him smile."Yo've vext old Mrs. Smith to day;Her dress is nout like this:Shoo knows it too, they all do say,And's taen it quite amiss."When t' childer laugh'd at yo'r new gaon,Shoo turn'd her face toth wal;When church did loase, shoo went back way,So as to miss 'em all."Some thought this gaon could not be boughtAt Halifax at all:It wor a London print, they thought;'T piece sud be sent for—all.A what a profit Dolly'd got!Shoo'd sell it in a crack;"This dress beoats all, come, lads, and seeA hunt o' Dolly's back!"The noise wor great, the laugh wor loud;Lads shaoting hard a-way:Poor Dolly rag'd, some said shoo swore,At last we heeard her say—"Gooid God!" said Dolly, stamping mad,"Whatever sall I hear?I'm t' laughing stock for all, egad,I'm war nor ever here."Up Dolly jumps—this is a hoil;Ol gooa, it dos'n't meon:Shoo heeard t' lads say oth aaotside door—"Shoo's coming aaot ageon."Lads pull'd her daon, but still shoo'd goa;And running straight at door:Chears and tables, spice and nutsShoo tumbled on toth floor."What will yo do," old Betty said,When chears and tables crash'd;"Me spice and apples daon oth floor,And cumfit glass is smash'd."Lads ran at apples, spice and nuts,All sprawling daon o'th floor;Poor Dolly said, "If I get aaot,Yol catch me here no moore.""Naa, flint-faced Tom," old Betty said,"There's not a war ith taon;"Tha held her fast, then late her slip,Tha new shoo'd nock stuff daon."Aye, tha my laugh, tha brazen'd thing,But will ta mak it up;There is not hoaf oth stuff just naaI had before ith shop."Such sturs as these I hate to see;"—Tom said he ne'er begunt;"Old tale ageon, its none o'me,It's olas nubdy's dunt."There's winkin Will, and Jack ith oil,Thes not two war ith shop;I saw yo pushing lasses daon,Then picking lads oth top."There's Dolly here, theyn tore her cap;And t' screed wor London lace;Shoe blacking temd o'hur new gaon,And spotted black her face."Me chears theyn mash'd, me stoils theyn smash'd,And crack'd t' new table top;My apple pooak theyn taen away,An put puttates ith spot."Sich sturs wud ruin ony man;Whate'er I says no use:There's three or four oth back oth door,Eighting my spenisjuce."I'll fotch a warrant, if I live;I'll transpoort ten to-morn:Reit ovver sea I'll send yo all,As sure as 'ere yor born."Nan, ta me cap toth frilling shop,Them get it up best way;Ol be at justices at morn,Be it be breyk o' day."I'll not go there a daggletail,Like mucky onion Ann;I'll tell a tale, (yol seet ith news,)As weel as ony man."Ther scores o' people craaded raond,Twor like a village fair:When shoo went aaot ther sich a noise,As if they'd rais'd a hare.Sly Billy took her by the arm;"Come, Dolly, stick to me:"But Dolly struck him plump oth face;"I'll nooan be fooil'd by thee."His nose did bleed, the people laugh'd,"Reyt, thump him," they did cry;But Billy 'er fain to run away,His bloody nose to dry.Another scene gave Dolly pain:It struck her like a blast;Her old sweetheart wi bonny Jane,Stud laaghing as shoo past.This wor too much, the tears did flow,Her trubbled brest did beat;When love for love expects a smile,A scornful taunt did meet."Thal wed her naa," Jane laughing said;"Shoo beots fine fouk ith taon;Shoo's like a walking cortan'd bed;I wish I'd sich a gaon."This Dolly heeard, but on shoo mov'd;Sad, mourning, all furlorn:"I wor in different trim, God knows,When I coom on at morn."I must be dreaming, Dolly thought;But to be sure shoo putHur hands both up to touch her een,To feel if they wor shut."This gaon, I'll burn it if I live,I'll burn it every bit;For, warst of all, where'er e go,Thel say I'm short o' wit."Then Dolly went at sich a speed,Shoo never went before;When shoo gat home shoo doft her gaon,Declar'd shoo'd dont no more.THE MORAL.O what a change we undergoBy fate's unfriendly touch;When we're asham'd and laugh'd at too,For what we've priz'd so much.
THE neighbours all remember weelOnce Dolly bought a gaon;A painted lin, the grandest thing;Ther but one piece ith taon.The boy ith shop he teld her soa;A merry joaking lad:He said it wor t' first gaon o't pieceThat ony one had had:—And if shoo'd come when it wor made,And let him see it on,A handkerchy he'd give to her,If he're a living man.The gaon wor made, to 'th church shoo went;But what gave most delight,Shoo heeard foulks whisper as shoo past,I never so the like!But when shoo coom at Rubin's cot,A hut that stood o'th moor,Old Rubin sat, and Grace his wife,Both smooking at the door."Good morning, Dolly," old Grace said,"I wonder'd wo't could be."Surprised shoo stud, her hands both up,"What mun I live to see!""Is tat thy choice," old Rubin said,—"Tha beots old Judy Gazer,Shoo'd fifty gaons, but nooan like that,—I'gy it is a blazer!"Gay Dolly laugh'd, old Rubin said—"Come in and sit te daon;"But Dolly tript along the green,Delighted with her gaon.The church shoo enter'd, 'twor begun,The best time to be seen;Some sat and star'd, and some stood up,As if shoo'd been the queen.This confirm'd Dolly in her choice;Her gaon wurt first in stile:The priest, and clark, and all did stare,And some, shoo thought, did smile.This printed gaon had broad green leaves,With branches thick and tall;Red burds and yollow, ducks and geese,The huntsman, haonds and all.Thus Dolly sat, like Sheba's queen,The grandest in the place;A sidelong glance sometimes shoo castBut did not turn her face.Her prayer-book shoo seem'd to read,As other people do;But her devotion was her dress,Her gaon wor spanking new.The church did loase, and still they star'd;Some laugh'd and made a stur:The childer too came running raond,One pointing said, "That's hur.""Ah! what a gaon!" shoo heeard 'em say,"Wi yollow burds and red:It's just sich stuff as gentle fooakMakes curtains for their bed."This confused Dolly all at once,Shoo knew not where shoo'er baon;For fooaks shoo met, they laugh'd and said—"Haa like ye yo'r new gaon?"But Dolly shoo would speyk to nooan;To meet fouk shoo were feard:For some took hold o' Dolly's gaon,And ast what twor a yeord.Shoo call'd to see old Betty Hay,While chapel fouk went past;As shoo went in shoo heeard 'em say,"Shoo's getten here at last."This wor a spice shop, where t' lads met;A merry hoil it ware:Lads making fun o' all they could,And Dolly gat her share.The haaos wor fill'd, but all gave place;"Come, Dolly, sit ye daon:"When hoaf a dozen lads cried aaot—"That is a bonny gaon!""Yo've bet'em, Dolly, all to day;Yo'r gaon is first in stile:It's been admir'd by all ith church,Old priest, we saw him smile."Yo've vext old Mrs. Smith to day;Her dress is nout like this:Shoo knows it too, they all do say,And's taen it quite amiss."When t' childer laugh'd at yo'r new gaon,Shoo turn'd her face toth wal;When church did loase, shoo went back way,So as to miss 'em all."Some thought this gaon could not be boughtAt Halifax at all:It wor a London print, they thought;'T piece sud be sent for—all.A what a profit Dolly'd got!Shoo'd sell it in a crack;"This dress beoats all, come, lads, and seeA hunt o' Dolly's back!"The noise wor great, the laugh wor loud;Lads shaoting hard a-way:Poor Dolly rag'd, some said shoo swore,At last we heeard her say—"Gooid God!" said Dolly, stamping mad,"Whatever sall I hear?I'm t' laughing stock for all, egad,I'm war nor ever here."Up Dolly jumps—this is a hoil;Ol gooa, it dos'n't meon:Shoo heeard t' lads say oth aaotside door—"Shoo's coming aaot ageon."Lads pull'd her daon, but still shoo'd goa;And running straight at door:Chears and tables, spice and nutsShoo tumbled on toth floor."What will yo do," old Betty said,When chears and tables crash'd;"Me spice and apples daon oth floor,And cumfit glass is smash'd."Lads ran at apples, spice and nuts,All sprawling daon o'th floor;Poor Dolly said, "If I get aaot,Yol catch me here no moore.""Naa, flint-faced Tom," old Betty said,"There's not a war ith taon;"Tha held her fast, then late her slip,Tha new shoo'd nock stuff daon."Aye, tha my laugh, tha brazen'd thing,But will ta mak it up;There is not hoaf oth stuff just naaI had before ith shop."Such sturs as these I hate to see;"—Tom said he ne'er begunt;"Old tale ageon, its none o'me,It's olas nubdy's dunt."There's winkin Will, and Jack ith oil,Thes not two war ith shop;I saw yo pushing lasses daon,Then picking lads oth top."There's Dolly here, theyn tore her cap;And t' screed wor London lace;Shoe blacking temd o'hur new gaon,And spotted black her face."Me chears theyn mash'd, me stoils theyn smash'd,And crack'd t' new table top;My apple pooak theyn taen away,An put puttates ith spot."Sich sturs wud ruin ony man;Whate'er I says no use:There's three or four oth back oth door,Eighting my spenisjuce."I'll fotch a warrant, if I live;I'll transpoort ten to-morn:Reit ovver sea I'll send yo all,As sure as 'ere yor born."Nan, ta me cap toth frilling shop,Them get it up best way;Ol be at justices at morn,Be it be breyk o' day."I'll not go there a daggletail,Like mucky onion Ann;I'll tell a tale, (yol seet ith news,)As weel as ony man."Ther scores o' people craaded raond,Twor like a village fair:When shoo went aaot ther sich a noise,As if they'd rais'd a hare.Sly Billy took her by the arm;"Come, Dolly, stick to me:"But Dolly struck him plump oth face;"I'll nooan be fooil'd by thee."His nose did bleed, the people laugh'd,"Reyt, thump him," they did cry;But Billy 'er fain to run away,His bloody nose to dry.Another scene gave Dolly pain:It struck her like a blast;Her old sweetheart wi bonny Jane,Stud laaghing as shoo past.This wor too much, the tears did flow,Her trubbled brest did beat;When love for love expects a smile,A scornful taunt did meet."Thal wed her naa," Jane laughing said;"Shoo beots fine fouk ith taon;Shoo's like a walking cortan'd bed;I wish I'd sich a gaon."This Dolly heeard, but on shoo mov'd;Sad, mourning, all furlorn:"I wor in different trim, God knows,When I coom on at morn."I must be dreaming, Dolly thought;But to be sure shoo putHur hands both up to touch her een,To feel if they wor shut."This gaon, I'll burn it if I live,I'll burn it every bit;For, warst of all, where'er e go,Thel say I'm short o' wit."Then Dolly went at sich a speed,Shoo never went before;When shoo gat home shoo doft her gaon,Declar'd shoo'd dont no more.THE MORAL.O what a change we undergoBy fate's unfriendly touch;When we're asham'd and laugh'd at too,For what we've priz'd so much.
THE neighbours all remember weelOnce Dolly bought a gaon;A painted lin, the grandest thing;Ther but one piece ith taon.
THE neighbours all remember weel
Once Dolly bought a gaon;
A painted lin, the grandest thing;
Ther but one piece ith taon.
The boy ith shop he teld her soa;A merry joaking lad:He said it wor t' first gaon o't pieceThat ony one had had:—
The boy ith shop he teld her soa;
A merry joaking lad:
He said it wor t' first gaon o't piece
That ony one had had:—
And if shoo'd come when it wor made,And let him see it on,A handkerchy he'd give to her,If he're a living man.
And if shoo'd come when it wor made,
And let him see it on,
A handkerchy he'd give to her,
If he're a living man.
The gaon wor made, to 'th church shoo went;But what gave most delight,Shoo heeard foulks whisper as shoo past,I never so the like!
The gaon wor made, to 'th church shoo went;
But what gave most delight,
Shoo heeard foulks whisper as shoo past,
I never so the like!
But when shoo coom at Rubin's cot,A hut that stood o'th moor,Old Rubin sat, and Grace his wife,Both smooking at the door.
But when shoo coom at Rubin's cot,
A hut that stood o'th moor,
Old Rubin sat, and Grace his wife,
Both smooking at the door.
"Good morning, Dolly," old Grace said,"I wonder'd wo't could be."Surprised shoo stud, her hands both up,"What mun I live to see!"
"Good morning, Dolly," old Grace said,
"I wonder'd wo't could be."
Surprised shoo stud, her hands both up,
"What mun I live to see!"
"Is tat thy choice," old Rubin said,—"Tha beots old Judy Gazer,Shoo'd fifty gaons, but nooan like that,—I'gy it is a blazer!"
"Is tat thy choice," old Rubin said,—
"Tha beots old Judy Gazer,
Shoo'd fifty gaons, but nooan like that,—
I'gy it is a blazer!"
Gay Dolly laugh'd, old Rubin said—"Come in and sit te daon;"But Dolly tript along the green,Delighted with her gaon.
Gay Dolly laugh'd, old Rubin said—
"Come in and sit te daon;"
But Dolly tript along the green,
Delighted with her gaon.
The church shoo enter'd, 'twor begun,The best time to be seen;Some sat and star'd, and some stood up,As if shoo'd been the queen.
The church shoo enter'd, 'twor begun,
The best time to be seen;
Some sat and star'd, and some stood up,
As if shoo'd been the queen.
This confirm'd Dolly in her choice;Her gaon wurt first in stile:The priest, and clark, and all did stare,And some, shoo thought, did smile.
This confirm'd Dolly in her choice;
Her gaon wurt first in stile:
The priest, and clark, and all did stare,
And some, shoo thought, did smile.
This printed gaon had broad green leaves,With branches thick and tall;Red burds and yollow, ducks and geese,The huntsman, haonds and all.
This printed gaon had broad green leaves,
With branches thick and tall;
Red burds and yollow, ducks and geese,
The huntsman, haonds and all.
Thus Dolly sat, like Sheba's queen,The grandest in the place;A sidelong glance sometimes shoo castBut did not turn her face.
Thus Dolly sat, like Sheba's queen,
The grandest in the place;
A sidelong glance sometimes shoo cast
But did not turn her face.
Her prayer-book shoo seem'd to read,As other people do;But her devotion was her dress,Her gaon wor spanking new.
Her prayer-book shoo seem'd to read,
As other people do;
But her devotion was her dress,
Her gaon wor spanking new.
The church did loase, and still they star'd;Some laugh'd and made a stur:The childer too came running raond,One pointing said, "That's hur."
The church did loase, and still they star'd;
Some laugh'd and made a stur:
The childer too came running raond,
One pointing said, "That's hur."
"Ah! what a gaon!" shoo heeard 'em say,"Wi yollow burds and red:It's just sich stuff as gentle fooakMakes curtains for their bed."
"Ah! what a gaon!" shoo heeard 'em say,
"Wi yollow burds and red:
It's just sich stuff as gentle fooak
Makes curtains for their bed."
This confused Dolly all at once,Shoo knew not where shoo'er baon;For fooaks shoo met, they laugh'd and said—"Haa like ye yo'r new gaon?"
This confused Dolly all at once,
Shoo knew not where shoo'er baon;
For fooaks shoo met, they laugh'd and said—
"Haa like ye yo'r new gaon?"
But Dolly shoo would speyk to nooan;To meet fouk shoo were feard:For some took hold o' Dolly's gaon,And ast what twor a yeord.
But Dolly shoo would speyk to nooan;
To meet fouk shoo were feard:
For some took hold o' Dolly's gaon,
And ast what twor a yeord.
Shoo call'd to see old Betty Hay,While chapel fouk went past;As shoo went in shoo heeard 'em say,"Shoo's getten here at last."
Shoo call'd to see old Betty Hay,
While chapel fouk went past;
As shoo went in shoo heeard 'em say,
"Shoo's getten here at last."
This wor a spice shop, where t' lads met;A merry hoil it ware:Lads making fun o' all they could,And Dolly gat her share.
This wor a spice shop, where t' lads met;
A merry hoil it ware:
Lads making fun o' all they could,
And Dolly gat her share.
The haaos wor fill'd, but all gave place;"Come, Dolly, sit ye daon:"When hoaf a dozen lads cried aaot—"That is a bonny gaon!"
The haaos wor fill'd, but all gave place;
"Come, Dolly, sit ye daon:"
When hoaf a dozen lads cried aaot—
"That is a bonny gaon!"
"Yo've bet'em, Dolly, all to day;Yo'r gaon is first in stile:It's been admir'd by all ith church,Old priest, we saw him smile.
"Yo've bet'em, Dolly, all to day;
Yo'r gaon is first in stile:
It's been admir'd by all ith church,
Old priest, we saw him smile.
"Yo've vext old Mrs. Smith to day;Her dress is nout like this:Shoo knows it too, they all do say,And's taen it quite amiss.
"Yo've vext old Mrs. Smith to day;
Her dress is nout like this:
Shoo knows it too, they all do say,
And's taen it quite amiss.
"When t' childer laugh'd at yo'r new gaon,Shoo turn'd her face toth wal;When church did loase, shoo went back way,So as to miss 'em all."
"When t' childer laugh'd at yo'r new gaon,
Shoo turn'd her face toth wal;
When church did loase, shoo went back way,
So as to miss 'em all."
Some thought this gaon could not be boughtAt Halifax at all:It wor a London print, they thought;'T piece sud be sent for—all.
Some thought this gaon could not be bought
At Halifax at all:
It wor a London print, they thought;
'T piece sud be sent for—all.
A what a profit Dolly'd got!Shoo'd sell it in a crack;"This dress beoats all, come, lads, and seeA hunt o' Dolly's back!"
A what a profit Dolly'd got!
Shoo'd sell it in a crack;
"This dress beoats all, come, lads, and see
A hunt o' Dolly's back!"
The noise wor great, the laugh wor loud;Lads shaoting hard a-way:Poor Dolly rag'd, some said shoo swore,At last we heeard her say—
The noise wor great, the laugh wor loud;
Lads shaoting hard a-way:
Poor Dolly rag'd, some said shoo swore,
At last we heeard her say—
"Gooid God!" said Dolly, stamping mad,"Whatever sall I hear?I'm t' laughing stock for all, egad,I'm war nor ever here."
"Gooid God!" said Dolly, stamping mad,
"Whatever sall I hear?
I'm t' laughing stock for all, egad,
I'm war nor ever here."
Up Dolly jumps—this is a hoil;Ol gooa, it dos'n't meon:Shoo heeard t' lads say oth aaotside door—"Shoo's coming aaot ageon."
Up Dolly jumps—this is a hoil;
Ol gooa, it dos'n't meon:
Shoo heeard t' lads say oth aaotside door—
"Shoo's coming aaot ageon."
Lads pull'd her daon, but still shoo'd goa;And running straight at door:Chears and tables, spice and nutsShoo tumbled on toth floor.
Lads pull'd her daon, but still shoo'd goa;
And running straight at door:
Chears and tables, spice and nuts
Shoo tumbled on toth floor.
"What will yo do," old Betty said,When chears and tables crash'd;"Me spice and apples daon oth floor,And cumfit glass is smash'd."
"What will yo do," old Betty said,
When chears and tables crash'd;
"Me spice and apples daon oth floor,
And cumfit glass is smash'd."
Lads ran at apples, spice and nuts,All sprawling daon o'th floor;Poor Dolly said, "If I get aaot,Yol catch me here no moore."
Lads ran at apples, spice and nuts,
All sprawling daon o'th floor;
Poor Dolly said, "If I get aaot,
Yol catch me here no moore."
"Naa, flint-faced Tom," old Betty said,"There's not a war ith taon;"Tha held her fast, then late her slip,Tha new shoo'd nock stuff daon.
"Naa, flint-faced Tom," old Betty said,
"There's not a war ith taon;"
Tha held her fast, then late her slip,
Tha new shoo'd nock stuff daon.
"Aye, tha my laugh, tha brazen'd thing,But will ta mak it up;There is not hoaf oth stuff just naaI had before ith shop.
"Aye, tha my laugh, tha brazen'd thing,
But will ta mak it up;
There is not hoaf oth stuff just naa
I had before ith shop.
"Such sturs as these I hate to see;"—Tom said he ne'er begunt;"Old tale ageon, its none o'me,It's olas nubdy's dunt.
"Such sturs as these I hate to see;"—
Tom said he ne'er begunt;
"Old tale ageon, its none o'me,
It's olas nubdy's dunt.
"There's winkin Will, and Jack ith oil,Thes not two war ith shop;I saw yo pushing lasses daon,Then picking lads oth top.
"There's winkin Will, and Jack ith oil,
Thes not two war ith shop;
I saw yo pushing lasses daon,
Then picking lads oth top.
"There's Dolly here, theyn tore her cap;And t' screed wor London lace;Shoe blacking temd o'hur new gaon,And spotted black her face.
"There's Dolly here, theyn tore her cap;
And t' screed wor London lace;
Shoe blacking temd o'hur new gaon,
And spotted black her face.
"Me chears theyn mash'd, me stoils theyn smash'd,And crack'd t' new table top;My apple pooak theyn taen away,An put puttates ith spot.
"Me chears theyn mash'd, me stoils theyn smash'd,
And crack'd t' new table top;
My apple pooak theyn taen away,
An put puttates ith spot.
"Sich sturs wud ruin ony man;Whate'er I says no use:There's three or four oth back oth door,Eighting my spenisjuce.
"Sich sturs wud ruin ony man;
Whate'er I says no use:
There's three or four oth back oth door,
Eighting my spenisjuce.
"I'll fotch a warrant, if I live;I'll transpoort ten to-morn:Reit ovver sea I'll send yo all,As sure as 'ere yor born.
"I'll fotch a warrant, if I live;
I'll transpoort ten to-morn:
Reit ovver sea I'll send yo all,
As sure as 'ere yor born.
"Nan, ta me cap toth frilling shop,Them get it up best way;Ol be at justices at morn,Be it be breyk o' day.
"Nan, ta me cap toth frilling shop,
Them get it up best way;
Ol be at justices at morn,
Be it be breyk o' day.
"I'll not go there a daggletail,Like mucky onion Ann;I'll tell a tale, (yol seet ith news,)As weel as ony man."
"I'll not go there a daggletail,
Like mucky onion Ann;
I'll tell a tale, (yol seet ith news,)
As weel as ony man."
Ther scores o' people craaded raond,Twor like a village fair:When shoo went aaot ther sich a noise,As if they'd rais'd a hare.
Ther scores o' people craaded raond,
Twor like a village fair:
When shoo went aaot ther sich a noise,
As if they'd rais'd a hare.
Sly Billy took her by the arm;"Come, Dolly, stick to me:"But Dolly struck him plump oth face;"I'll nooan be fooil'd by thee."
Sly Billy took her by the arm;
"Come, Dolly, stick to me:"
But Dolly struck him plump oth face;
"I'll nooan be fooil'd by thee."
His nose did bleed, the people laugh'd,"Reyt, thump him," they did cry;But Billy 'er fain to run away,His bloody nose to dry.
His nose did bleed, the people laugh'd,
"Reyt, thump him," they did cry;
But Billy 'er fain to run away,
His bloody nose to dry.
Another scene gave Dolly pain:It struck her like a blast;Her old sweetheart wi bonny Jane,Stud laaghing as shoo past.
Another scene gave Dolly pain:
It struck her like a blast;
Her old sweetheart wi bonny Jane,
Stud laaghing as shoo past.
This wor too much, the tears did flow,Her trubbled brest did beat;When love for love expects a smile,A scornful taunt did meet.
This wor too much, the tears did flow,
Her trubbled brest did beat;
When love for love expects a smile,
A scornful taunt did meet.
"Thal wed her naa," Jane laughing said;"Shoo beots fine fouk ith taon;Shoo's like a walking cortan'd bed;I wish I'd sich a gaon."
"Thal wed her naa," Jane laughing said;
"Shoo beots fine fouk ith taon;
Shoo's like a walking cortan'd bed;
I wish I'd sich a gaon."
This Dolly heeard, but on shoo mov'd;Sad, mourning, all furlorn:"I wor in different trim, God knows,When I coom on at morn."
This Dolly heeard, but on shoo mov'd;
Sad, mourning, all furlorn:
"I wor in different trim, God knows,
When I coom on at morn."
I must be dreaming, Dolly thought;But to be sure shoo putHur hands both up to touch her een,To feel if they wor shut.
I must be dreaming, Dolly thought;
But to be sure shoo put
Hur hands both up to touch her een,
To feel if they wor shut.
"This gaon, I'll burn it if I live,I'll burn it every bit;For, warst of all, where'er e go,Thel say I'm short o' wit."
"This gaon, I'll burn it if I live,
I'll burn it every bit;
For, warst of all, where'er e go,
Thel say I'm short o' wit."
Then Dolly went at sich a speed,Shoo never went before;When shoo gat home shoo doft her gaon,Declar'd shoo'd dont no more.
Then Dolly went at sich a speed,
Shoo never went before;
When shoo gat home shoo doft her gaon,
Declar'd shoo'd dont no more.
THE MORAL.
THE MORAL.
O what a change we undergoBy fate's unfriendly touch;When we're asham'd and laugh'd at too,For what we've priz'd so much.
O what a change we undergo
By fate's unfriendly touch;
When we're asham'd and laugh'd at too,
For what we've priz'd so much.
Thisballad is founded on an event which took place in the latter part of the year 1848. A gamekeeper of the earl of Ripon went out one night about his usual business, and was found next morning, near one of the plantations on Hutton Moor, shot dead. A notorious poacher, who was seen in the neighbourhood on the day of the murder, was apprehended and tried at York assizes, but acquitted for want of evidence; he subsequently emigrated to America, where he died, and is said to have confessed that he was the murderer.