Then let's give thanks for mercies past,
That've kept awr hearts still green;
For thar't just as dear at sixty, lass,
As when tha wor sixteen.
Come thi Ways in.
Come thi ways in, an God bless thi, lad!
Come thi ways in, for thar't welcome, joy!
A'a! tha'rt a shockin young taistrel, lad,
But tha artn't as bad as they call thi, doy.
Tha'rt thi father upheeaped an daanthrussen, lad,
It's his mother 'at knows what a glaid wor he;—
But thi britches' knees are booath brussen, lad,
An thi jacket, its raillee a shame to see.
It's weel for thee tha's a gronny, lad,—
If it wornt for me tha'd be lost i' muck!
Tha'rt wild, but tha'rt better ner monny, lad,
An aw think 'at tha'll yet bring thi gronny gooid luck.
Nah, pool up to th' table an dry thi nooas;—
(Awd nooan leearn mi appron to onny but thee,)
Wol tha'rt fillin thi belly aw'll patch up thi clooas,
Then aw'll send thi hooam daycent an cleean tha'll see.
Nah, what are ta dooin wi' th' pussy cat, pray?
If tha'll leeav it alooan it'll mell nooan o' thee,
Put th' mustard spooin daan! Does ta hear what aw say!
Let goa that cat tail! Ha tha aggravates me!
Tha mooant dip thi finger i'th' traitle pot, doy,
(Tho' aw reckon tha follers th' example tha's set,)
Mothers, nah days, dooan't know ha to train childer, joy,
But tha'll heed what thi gronny says,—willn't ta, pet?
A'a, dear! nah tha's upset thi basin o' stew!
All ovver thisen an mi cleean scarrd flooar:—
Tha clumsy young imp; what next will ta do?
Tha'd wear aght job's patience, an twice as mich mooar!
Hold thi din! or aw'll gie thi a taste o' that strap!
Tha maks it noa better wi' yellin like that!
Come, whisht nah,—'twor nobbut a little mishap;—
Nah, whisht,—an tha'll see ha we'll leather yond cat.