There, Sam, do meäke me zick to hear thy braggèn! Why bissen strong enough to car a flagon.
You grinnèn fool! why I'd zet thee a-blowèn, If thou wast wi' me vor a day a-mowèn. I'd wear my cwoat, an' thou midst pull thy rags off, An' then in half a zwath I'd mow thy lags off.
Thee mow wi' me! Why coossen keep up wi' me: Why bissèn fit to goo a-vield to skimmy, Or mow down docks an' thistles! Why I'll bet A shillèn, Samel, that thou cassen whet.
Now don't thee zay much mwore than what'st a-zaid, Or else I'll knock thee down, heels over head.
Thou knock me down, indeed! Why cassen gi'e A blow half hard enough to kill a bee.
Well, thou shalt veel upon thy chops and snout.
Come on, then, Samel; jist let's have woone bout.
When we in mornèn had a-drow'd The grass or russlèn haÿ abrode, The lit'some maïdens an' the chaps, Wi' bits o' nunchèns in their laps, Did all zit down upon the knaps Up there, in under hedge, below The highest elem o' the row, Where we did keep our flagon.
There we could zee green vields at hand, Avore a hunderd on beyand, An' rows o' trees in hedges roun' Green meäds, an' zummerleäzes brown, An' thorns upon the zunny down, While aïer, vrom the rockèn zedge In brook, did come along the hedge, Where we did keep our flagon.
There laughèn chaps did try in plaÿ To bury maïdens up in haÿ, As gigglèn maïdens tried to roll The chaps down into zome deep hole, Or sting wi' nettles woone o'm's poll; While John did hele out each his drap O' eäle or cider, in his lap Where he did keep the flagon.
Woone day there spun a whirlwind by Where Jenny's clothes wer out to dry; An' off vled frocks, a'most a-catch'd By smock-frocks wi' their sleeves outstratch'd, An' caps a-frill'd an' eäperns patch'd; An' she a-steärèn in a fright, Wer glad enough to zee em light Where we did keep our flagon.
An' when white clover wer a-sprung Among the eegrass, green an' young, An' elder-flowers wer a-spread Among the rwosen white an' red, An' honeyzucks wi' hangèn head,-- O' Zunday evenèns we did zit To look all roun' the grounds a bit, Where we'd a-kept our flagon.
WEEK'S END IN ZUMMER, IN THE WOLD VO'K'S TIME.
His aunt an' uncle,--ah! the kind Wold souls be often in my mind: A better couple never stood In shoes, an' vew be voun' so good. _She_ cheer'd the work-vo'k in theïr tweils Wi' timely bits an' draps, an' smiles; An' _he_ païd all o'm at week's end, Their money down to goo an' spend.