Follows the prayer, the readin' next, An' than the fisslin' for the text— The twa-three last to find it, vext But kind o' proud;
An' than the peppermints are raxed, An' southernwood.
For noo's the time whan pows are seen Nid-noddin' like a mandareen; When tenty mithers stap a preen In sleepin' weans; An' nearly half the parochine Forget their pains.
There's just a waukrif' twa or three: Thrawn commentautors sweer to 'gree,
Weans glowrin' at the bumlin' bee On windie-glasses, Or lads that tak a keek a-glee At sonsie lasses.