They on’y towd me it wor bad—
It would be so!
Eh, what a man!—an’ that cobbly road,
They’ll jolt him a’most to death,
I’m sure he’s in for some trouble
Nigh every time he takes breath.
Out o’ my way, childt—dear o’ me, wheer
Have I put his clean stockings and shirt;
Goodness knows if they’ll be able
To take off his pit dirt.