Jwosep’ Thompson leev’t lang up at Harrin’ton toon,[17]
An’ a weel to dee, throughly oald marrow was Joe,
Wid a neive like a neàf, an’ a feàce like a moon,
An’ a shap’, standin’ ūp, like a tee-tak-up-o’.
Jwosep’ Thompson hed ola’s been hearty an’ stoot,
But trūbble o’ sūm mak’s gay sarten to cūm,
An’ when threescwore an’ two he hed jūst coontit oot,
He was terrably tyl’t wid a gedderin’ thūmb.
For it feister’t an’ wark’t wid sa beàdless a stoon,
’At rist he gat nin for’t by neet nor by day;