Vor thik is a-reckon'd that's down,

As mother, a-neämèn her childern to vo'ks,

Meäde dree when but two wer a-voun';

An' zaid that hereafter she knew she should zee

Why God, that's above,

Vound fit in his love

To strike wi' his han' the poor maïd an' her tree.

[page 164]

THE HWOMESTEAD A-VELL INTO HAND.