The cwoat that uncle mwostly wore
Wer long behind an' straïght avore,
An' in his shoes he had girt buckles,
An' breeches button'd round his huckles;
An' he zung wi' pride,
By's wold meäre's zide,
"I'm out o' debt an' out o' danger,
An' I can feäce a friend or stranger;
I've a vist vor friends, an' I'll vind a peäir
Vor the vu'st that do meddle wi' me or my meare."