It made fowk tak noatice, dos't see.
An' when aw wor gooin towards hooam
Aw heeard som'dy comin behund:
'Twor pitch dark, an' aw thowt if they coom,
Aw should varry near sink into th' graund.
Aw knew it wor Jim bi his traid,
An' aw tried to get aght ov his gate;
But a'a! tha minds, lass, aw wor flaid,
Aw wor niver i' sich en a state.
Then aw felt som'dy's arm raand my shawl,