Last week the Browns ax’d nearly all
The naighbours to a randy,
An’ left us out o’t, girt an’ small,
Vor all we liv’d so handy;
An’ zoo I zaid to Dick, “We’ll trudge,
When they be in their fun, min;
An’ car up zome’hat to the rudge,
An’ jis’ stop up the tun, min.”
Zoo, wi’ the ladder vrom the rick,
We stole towards the house,
An’ crope in roun’ behind en, lik’
A cat upon a mouse.
Then, looken roun’, Dick whisper’d “How
Is theaese job to be done, min:
Why we do want a faggot now,
Vor stoppen up the tun, min.”
“Stan’ still,” I answer’d; “I’ll teaeke ceaere
O’ that: why dussen zee
The little grinden stwone out there,
Below the apple-tree?
Put up the ladder; in a crack
Shalt zee that I wull run, min,
An’ teaeke en up upon my back,
An’ soon stop up the tun, min.”
Zoo up I clomb upon the thatch,
An’ clapp’d en on; an’ slided
Right down ageaen, an’ run drough hatch,
Behind the hedge, an’ hided.
The vier that wer clear avore,
Begun to spweil their fun, min;
The smoke all roll’d toward the door,
Vor I’d a-stopp’d the tun, min.
The maidens cough’d or stopp’d their breath,
The men did hauk an’ spet;
The wold vo’k bundled out from he’th
Wi’ eyes a-runnen wet.
“'T’ool choke us all,” the wold man cried,
“Whatever’s to be done, min?
Why zome’hat is a-vell inside
O’ chimney drough the tun, min.”
Then out they scamper’d all, vull run,
An’ out cried Tom, “I think
The grinden-stwone is up on tun,
Vor I can zee the wink.
This is some kindness that the vo’k
At Woodley have a-done, min;
I wish I had em here, I’d poke
Their numskulls down the tun, min.”
Then off he zet, an’ come so quick
'S a lamplighter, an’ brote
The little ladder in vrom rick,
To clear the chimney’s droat.
While I, a-chucklen at the joke,
A-slided down, to run, min,
To hidelock, had a-left the vo’k
As bad as na’r a tun, min.
Other works by William Barnes...
