You’re stout to brave this snow, Miss Stainwright,
Are you makin’ Brinsley way?
—I’m off up th’ line to Underwood
Wi’ a dress as is wanted to-day.
Oh are you goin’ to Underwood?
’Appen then you’ve ’eered?
—What’s that as ’appen I’ve ’eered-on, Missis,
Speak up, you nedna be feared.
Why, your young man an’ Widow Naylor,
Her as he lodges wi’,