Now you undress yourself.
(To Mary)
You get in there
Into the warm. Stand still, stand still, I say,
And put this round yer. Oh, so that’s the way
You do when I ain’t looking? All day long
You’re up to mischief. Always something wrong
Soon as my back is turned. That heap o’ snow
How long’s that to stay there, I’d like to know?
Here, take your milk, and there’s a bit o’ bread