My cleean-wesh'd goon o' printed cotton;
Aboot my neck a muslin shawl,
A new silk hankercher ower all,
Wi' sike a careless air ah'll put on,
Ah'll shine that day.
My partner Ned, ah knaw, thinks he,
"He'll mak' his sen secure o' me,"
He's ofens sed he'd treeat me rarely;
Bud ah sal think ov other fun,
Ah'll aim for sum rich farmer's son,