Which Biddy soon kivird wid crapers and vines,
Wid a backyard and garding convanyent and neat,
Where the childer and pig could kape out o’ the street.
I warked wid the hod an’ had plinty to do,
An’ a stitch in my back ne’er minded at all;
Our childer was healthy and Biddy was true,
And I sung ’neath the load as I mounted the wall.
For I knew when at sundown my work was complete,
My supper was ready, all smoking and sweet.
’Twas down in a valley secure from the wind,