Young brush, (whea yet had ligg'd quite still,)
Thinkin' 'at t' men belang'd te t' hoose,
An' that he noo mud be o' use,
Jump'd doon directly on te t' fleear,
An' t' thieves beeath ran oot at deear;
Nur stopt at owt nur thin nur thick,
Fully convinc'd it wor awd Nick.
The sweeper lad then ran reeght seean
Te t' hoose, an' tell'd 'em what wor deean:
Maister an' men then quickly raise,