VI

D’ya mind the murnin’ when we was a-walkin’ togither, an’ stood

By the claäy’d-oop pond, that the foalk be sa scared at, i’ Gigglesby wood,

Wheer the poor wench drowndid hersen, black Sal, es’ed been disgraäced?

An’ I feel’d thy arm es I stood wur a-creeäpin about my waäist;

An’ me es wur allus afear’d of a man’s gittin’ over fond,

I sidled awaäy an’ awaäy till I plumpt foot fust i’ the pond;

And, Robby, I niver ’a liked tha sa well, as I did that daäy,

Fur tha joompt in thysen, an’ tha hoickt my feet wi’ a flop fro’ the claäy.

Ay, stick oop thy back, an' set oop thy taäil, tha may gie ma a kiss,

Fur I walk'd wi' tha all the way hoam an' wur niver sa nigh saäyin' Yis.

But wa boath was i' sich a clat we was shaämed to cross Gigglesby Greeän,

Fur a cat may looök at a king thou knaws but the cat mun be clean.

Sa we boäth on us kep out o' sight o' the winders o' Gigglesby Hinn—

Naäy, but the claws o' tha! quiet! they pricks clean thruf to the skin—

An' wa boäth slinkt 'oäm by the brokken shed i' the laäne at the back,

Wheer the poodle runn'd at tha once, an' thou runn'd oop o' the thack;

An' tha squeedg'd my 'and i' the shed, fur theere we was forced to 'ide,

Fur I seed that Steevie wur coomin', and one o' the Tommies beside.