Aye, that's the thing; an' when the pig do die, We got a lot ov offal for to fry, An' netlèns for to bwoil; or put the blood in, An' meäke a meal or two o' good black-pudden.
I'd keep myzelf from parish, I'd be bound, If I could get a little patch o' ground.
Now, Fanny, 'tis too bad, you teazèn maïd! How leäte you be a' come! Where have ye staÿ'd? How long you have a-meäde me waït about! I thought you werden gwaïn to come ageän: I had a mind to goo back hwome ageän. This idden when you promis'd to come out.
Now 'tidden any good to meäke a row, Upon my word, I cooden come till now. Vor I've a-been kept in all day by mother, At work about woone little job an' t'other. If you do want to goo, though, don't ye staÿ Vor me a minute longer, I do praÿ.
I thought you mid be out wi' Jemmy Bleäke,
An' why be out wi' him, vor goodness' seäke?
You walk'd o' Zunday evenèn wi'n, d'ye know, You went vrom church a-hitch'd up in his eärm.
Well, if I did, that werden any harm. Lauk! that _is_ zome'at to teäke notice o'_.
He took ye roun' the middle at the stile, An' kiss'd ye twice 'ithin the ha'f a mile.
Ees, at the stile, because I shoulden vall, He took me hold to help me down, that's all; An' I can't zee what very mighty harm He could ha' done a-lendèn me his eärm. An' as vor kissèn o' me, if he did, I didden ax en to, nor zay he mid: An' if he kiss'd me dree times, or a dozen, What harm wer it? Why idden he my cousin? An' I can't zee, then, what there is amiss In cousin Jem's jist gi'èn me a kiss.
Well, he shan't kiss ye, then; you shan't be kiss'd By his girt ugly chops, a lanky houn'! If I do zee'n, I'll jist wring up my vist An' knock en down. I'll squot his girt pug-nose, if I don't miss en; I'll warn I'll spweil his pretty lips vor kissèn!
Well, John, I'm sure I little thought to vind That you had ever sich a jealous mind. What then! I s'pose that I must be a dummy, An' mussen goo about nor wag my tongue To any soul, if he's a man, an' young; Or else you'll work yourzelf up mad wi' passion, An' talk away o' gi'èn vo'k a drashèn, An' breakèn bwones, an' beäten heads to pummy! If you've a-got sich jealous ways about ye, I'm sure I should be better off 'ithout ye.
Well, if girt Jemmy have a-won your heart, We'd better break the coortship off, an' peärt.