Aye, back at Leaedy-Day, you know,
I come vrom Gullybrook to Stowe;
At Leaedy-Day I took my pack
O’ rottletraps, an’ turn’d my back
Upon the weather-beaeten door,
That had a-screen’d, so long avore,
The mwost that theaese zide o’ the greaeve,
I’d live to have, or die to seaeve!
My childern, an’ my vier-pleaece,
Where Molly wi’ her cheerful feaece,
When I’d a-trod my wat’ry road
Vrom night-bedarken’d vields abrode,
Wi’ nimble hands, at evenen, blest
Wi’ vire an’ vood my hard-won rest;
The while the little woones did clim’,
So sleek-skinn’d, up from lim’ to lim’,
Till, strugglen hard an’ clingen tight,
They reach’d at last my feaece’s height.
All tryen which could soonest hold
My mind wi’ little teaeles they twold.
An’ ridden house is such a caddle,
I shan’t be over keen vor mwore [=o]'t,
Not yet a while, you mid be sure [=o]'t,—
I’d rather keep to woone wold staddle.
Well, zoo, avore the east begun
To redden wi’ the comen zun,
We left the beds our mossy thatch
Wer never mwore to overstratch,
An’ borrow’d uncle’s wold hoss _Dragon_,
To bring the slowly lumbren waggon,
An’ when he come, we vell a-packen
The bedsteads, wi’ their rwopes an’ zacken;
An’ then put up the wold eaerm-chair,
An’ cwoffer vull ov e’then-ware,
An’ vier-dogs, an’ copper kittle,
Wi’ crocks an’ saucepans, big an’ little;
An’ fryen-pan, vor aggs to slide
In butter round his hissen zide,
An’ gridire’s even bars, to bear
The drippen steaeke above the gleaere
O’ brightly-glowen coals. An’ then,
All up o’ top o’ them ageaen
The woaken bwoard, where we did eat
Our croust o’ bread or bit o’ meat,—
An’ when the bwoard wer up, we tied
Upon the reaeves, along the zide,
The woaeken stools, his glossy meaetes,
Bwoth when he’s beaere, or when the pleaetes
Do clatter loud wi’ knives, below
Our merry feaeces in a row.
An’ put between his lags, turn’d up’ard,
The zalt-box an’ the corner cupb’ard.
An’ then we laid the wold clock-ceaese,
All dumb, athirt upon his feaece,
Vor we’d a-left, I needen tell ye,
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 toward 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 teaeke,—the butter-barrel
An’ cheese-wring, wi’ his twinen screw,
An’ all the pails an’ veaets, 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-streamen weak
Drough empty rooms, an’ meaeken sad
My heart, where me’th woonce meaede me glad.
Vor when a man do leaeve 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 ridden house is such a caddle,
That I would rather keep my staddle.
Other works by William Barnes...
