We thought you woulden leaeve us quite
So soon as what you did last night;
Our fun jist got up to a height
As you about got hwome.
The frisken chaps did skip about,
An' cou'se the maidens in an' out,
A-meaeken such a randy-rout,
You coulden hear a drum.
An' Tom, a-springen after Bet
Blind-vwolded, whizz'd along, an' het
Poor Grammer's zide, an' overzet
Her chair, at blind-man's buff;
An' she, poor soul, as she did vall,
Did show her snags o' teeth an' squall,
An' what, she zaid, wer wo'se than all,
She shatter'd all her snuff.
An' Bet, a-hoppen back vor fear
O' Tom, struck uncle zomewhere near,
An' meaede his han' spill all his beer
Right down her poll an' back;
An' Joe, in middle o' the din,
Slipt out a bit, an' soon come in
Wi' all below his dapper chin
A-jumpen in a zack.
An' in a twinklen tother chaps
Jist hung en to a crook wi' straps,
An' meaede en bear the maidens' slaps,
An' prickens wi' a pin.
An' Jim, a-catchen Poll, poor chap,
In back-house in the dark, vell slap
Athirt a tub o' barm,—a trap
She set to catch en in.
An' then we zot down out o' breath,
An' meaede a circle roun' the he'th,
A-keepen up our harmless me'th,
Till supper wer a-come.
An' after we'd a-had zome prog,
All tother chaps begun to jog,
Wi' sticks to lick a thief or dog,
To zee the maidens hwome.