This he maddel’t aboot ebben endways away—
As lang as he breath’t it was ola’s his drone;
An’ t’ wife hed na peace till he gat her to say
He sud lig by his-sel’ iv a field o’ the’r oan.
An’ Joe tiet her up till her wūrd iv his will,
For theear suer aneuf when he dee’t it was fūnd
’At he’d left o’ tull hūr, no’but if she’d fulfil
His craze ageàn liggin’ i’ consecrate grūnd.
An’ Joe hed his way, for a square roughish steàn[21]
By t’ dike, i’ t’ Sco’-lonnin’, at this varra day,