“Our schyul maister’s pen
“Shall tak pairt wi’ ma bonny Bob Cranky.”
“Ize warrn’t, gif aw weer my pillease,
“An ma hat myed of very sma strees;
“He’ll be chock full o’ spite,
“An about us will write,
“An say Ize owre fine for Bob Cranky.”
“Sure, Bobby,” says she, “his head’s got a crack,”
“Ne maiter,” sed I, an gov her a smack.
“Pilleases are tippy,