As noo hammer in parish could crack,
An' flung down the knife in a huff;
Vor the edge o'n wer thicker'n the back.
Vor beäkers an' meäkers o' tools
Be all fools wi' Gruffmoody Grim.
Oone day as he vish'd at the brook,
He flung up, wi' a quick-handed knack,
His long line, an' his high-vleèn hook
Wer a-hitch'd in zome briars at his back.
Then he zwore at the brembles, an' prick'd