Folk-Speech of Cumberland and Some Districts Adjacent / Being Short Stories and Rhymes in the Dialects of the West Border Counties

by Alexander Craig Gibson

I’ll niver git heàm while Bobby’s my neàm,

But maffle an’ sing till I dee, dee, dee,

But maffle an’ sing till I dee!

“Weel, weel,” says I, “If I is oot o’ my senses—I IS oot o’ my senses, an’ that’s oa’ aboot it,—but

Loavins what’ll Betty think, Betty think, Betty think,

Loavins what’ll Betty think if Bobby bide away?

She’ll sweer he’s warin’ t’ brass i’ drink, t’ brass i’ drink, t’ brass i’ drink,

She’ll sweer he’s warin’ t’ brass i’ drink this varra market-day.

She’s thrimlin’ for her būtter-brass, her būtter-brass, her būtter-brass,

She’s thrimlin’ for her būtter brass, but willn’t thrimle lang.