What mun become o' thease poor helpless crayturs?
A'a dear! fowk have mich to be thankful for, yet,
'At's a roof o' ther own to cawer under,
For if we'd to seek ony nook we could get,
Whativer 'ud come on us aw wonder?
We should nooan on us like to be turned aat o' door,
Wi a lot a young bairns to tak 'care on:
Ah' although awm baat bonnet, an think misen poor,
What little aw have yo'st have t'share on.
That poor little maase aw dooant think meant me harm,