Wheer Squire had been diggin' fur fireclaäy—eh, but she yellocked an' beäled!
Cloppity-joggle I chaäsed her, sa well as I cud, bein' laäme,
An' flippity-flopper she kep' on ahead—an' a' squawked out "Shaäme!"
(The Amateur Reciter should find little difficulty here in suggesting something of the intonation of a frightened goose: Pause—then continue apologetically.)
I wur haäf asheämed o' mysen' I wur, afoor I coom to the hend,
(Remorsefully.) "Ye owd ongreätful guzzard," I thowt, "to gaw killin' ya hoänly friend!"
But ma friend wur a Michaelmas denner tew as I hedn't naw art to refuse!
(More remorsefully.) An' it maäde me seeä what a gowk I'd beeän to ha' gotten sa thick with a guse!
Sa I danged 'er well as I slummocked on, as ard as ma legs cud stoomp,
"Waäit till I gets tha, ma laädy!" I sez,—when, arl on a sooden ... Boomp!