Gi'e me the speäde a-bit. A pig would rout
It out a'most so nimbly wi' his snout.
(3) Oh! so's, d'ye hear it, then. How we can thunder!
How big we be, then George! what next I wonder?
(1) Now, William, gi'e the waggon woone mwore twitch,
The wheels be free, an' 'tis a lighter nitch.
(3) Come, Smiler, gee! C'up, White-voot. (1) That wull do.
(2) Do wag. (1) Do goo at last. (3) Well done. 'Tis drough.
(1) Now, William, till you have mwore ho'ses' lags,
Don't drēve the waggon into theäsem quags.