"Tak heed o' my direction:
Th' schooil owes us hauf a craan—aw mean
My share o'th' last collection.—
Tha'll see to that, an have what's fair
When my poor life is past."—
Says Mally, "listen, aw declare,
He's sensible to th' last."
He shut his een an' sank to rest—
Deeath seldom claimed a better:
They put him by,—but what wor th' best,