An' while your mother bustled sprack,
A-gettèn supper out in hall,
An' cast her sheäde, a-whiv'rèn black
Avore the vier, upon the wall;
Your brother come, wi' easy peäce,
In drough the slammèn geäte, along
The path, wi' healthy-bloomèn feäce,
A-whis'lèn shrill his last new zong;
An' when he come avore the door,
He met vrom you his woone smile mwore.