"'Ere be Tammy long of his sweetart!" wur hallus the village joäk!
An' I'd saäy: "'Tis ma Michaelmas denner I'm squirin' aboot, owd chap!"
An' Minty she'd stan' up a' tiptoe, an' fluther her neck, an' flap!
Did I 'appen to gaw of a hevenin, to looök at ma hinion patch?
Minty 'ud coom in along o' meä, an' rarstle aboot, an' scratch,
Cocking her heye at the bed o' saäge, with a kink as mooch as to saäy:
"Wull the saäge an' th' hinions be ready fur meä, by toime I be ready for theëy?"
Or she'd snifter at arl the windfalls as ligged i' the horchard graäss,
I knawed what she wur erfter, a did—she wur pickin' 'em oot for the saäss!
An' I'd roob ma ands fur to see her a ploddlin' across th' roärd,