An' païd the money vor the ceäkes,
But wer so lwoth to put it down
As if a penny wer a poun'.
Then up come zidelèn Sammy Heäre,
That's fond o' Poll, an' she can't bear,
A-holdèn out his girt scram vist,
An' ax'd her, wi' a grin an' twist,
To have zome nuts; an' she, to hide
Her laughèn, turn'd her head azide,
An' answer'd that she'd rather not,