Aw star’d, and thought it was shamful.
Never mind, says aw, canny lass,
Give us yell, and aw’ll drink ma wameful.
Rum te idily, &c.
Says she, Canny man, the yell’s cawd;
It comes frev a man they ca’ Mackey,
And my faith it’s byeth sour an’ awd;
Ye’d best hev a drop o’ wour jacky.
Your jacky! says I, now what’s that?
I ne’er heard the neame o’ sic liquor.