A handkerchy he'd give to her,
If he're a living man.
The gaon wor made, to 'th church shoo went;
But what gave most delight,
Shoo heeard foulks whisper as shoo past,
I never so the like!
But when shoo coom at Rubin's cot,
A hut that stood o'th moor,
Old Rubin sat, and Grace his wife,
Both smooking at the door.