An all at once he heeard a voice
Cry out, "Stand and deliver!
Your money or your life, mak choice,
Before your brains I shiver;"
He luk'd all raand, but failed to see
A sign of livin craytur,
Then tremlin dropt upon his knee,
Fear stamp'd on ivvery faytur.
"Gooid chap," he said, "mi rifle tak,
Mi belts, mi ammunition,
Aw've nowt but th' clooas 'at's o' mi back
Oh pity mi condition;
Aw wish aw'd had a lot o' brass,
Aw'd gie thi ivvery fardin;
Aw'm nobbut goin to meet a lass,
At Tate's berry garden."
"Aw wish shoo wor, aw dooant care where,
Its her fault aw've to suffer;"
Just then a whisper in his ear
Said, "Johnny, thar't a duffer,"
He luk'd, an' thear cloise to him stuck
Wor Jenny, burst wi' lafter;
"A'a, John," shoo says, "Aw've tried thi pluck,
Aw'st think o' this at after."
"An when tha tells what things tha'll do,
An booasts o' manly courage,
Aw'st tell thi then, as nah aw do,
Go hooam an get thi porrige."
"Why Jenny wor it thee," he sed,
"Aw fancied aw could spy thi,
Aw nobbut reckoned to be flaid,
Aw did it but to try thi."
"Just soa," shoo says, "but certain 'tis
Aw hear thi heart a beatin,
An tak this claat to wipe thi phiz,
Gooid gracious, ha tha'rt sweeatin.
Thar't brave noa daat, an tha can crow
Like booastin cock-a-doodle,
But nooan sich men for me, aw vow,
When wed, aw'll wed a 'noodle.'"
Plenty o' Brass.
A'a! it's grand to ha plenty o' brass!
It's grand to be able to spend
A trifle sometimes on a glass
For yorsen, or sometimes for a friend.
To be able to bury yor neive
Up to th' shackle i' silver an' gowd,
An, 'baght pinchin, be able to save
A wee bit for th' time when yo're owd.
A'a! it's grand to ha plenty o' brass!
To be able to set daan yor fooit
Withaat ivver thinkin—bi'th' mass!
'At yo're wearin' soa much off yor booit.
To be able to walk along th' street,
An stand at shop windows to stare,
An net ha to beat a retreat
If yo scent a "bum bailey" i'th' air.
A'a! it's grand to ha plenty o' brass!
To be able to goa hooam at neet,
An sit i'th' arm-cheer bi'th' owd lass,
An want nawther foir nor leet.
To tak th' childer a paper o' spice,
Or a pictur' to hing up o' th' wall;
Or a taste ov a summat 'at's nice
For yor friends, if they happen to call.
A'a! it's grand to ha plenty o' brass!
Then th' parsons'll know where yo live;
If yo're poor, it's mooast likely they'll pass,
An call where fowk's summat to give.
Yo may have a trifle o' sense,
An yo may be booath upright an trew,
But that's nowt, if yo can't stand th' expense
Ov a whole or a pairt ov a pew.