I wadn’t mind sec teàls, but yance I gat a freeght me-sel’
I’ Branthet Neùk, an’ hoo it was, just lissen an’ I’ll tell.
Yā neeght, lang sen, at Cursmass time, wid Cursmass mak’ o’ wedder,
A lock on us at Branthet met, to hev a glass togidder;
We crack’t, an’ jwok’t, an’ drank, an’ smeuk’t, while hoaf o’ t’ neeght went by,
For Isbel Simon’ drink was gud, an’ we war rayder dry!
’Twas lownd an’ leàt—past yan o’clock—wid nūt a spark o’ moon:
An’ like a clood o’ cardit woo’, thick snow keep’t sinkin’ doon,
When reeght up t’ Neùk three Jwohn’s an’ me went wādin’ heàm through t’ snow—
Jwohn Suntan, an’ Jwohn Bell o’ t’ Rayes, an’ Jwohn o’ Craypless Ho’.