by Thomas Wilson

“ Where mawks and caterpillars soom!
She's just a movin' heap o' muck,
Where durts of a' description muster;
For dishclout serves her apron nuik
As weel as snotter-clout and duster!
She lays out punds in manadge things,
Like mony a thriftless, thoughtless bein';
Yet bairns and me, as if we'd wings,
Are a' in rags an' tatters fleein'.
Just mark wor dress-- a lapless coat,
Wi' byeth the elbows steeking through--
A hat that never cost a groat--
A neckless sark-- a clog and shoe. ”

“ The bride-kyek neist, byeth sweet and short,
Was toss'd in platefulls ower the bride:
The lads and lasses scrammel'd for't,
With airms and mouths stritch'd far and wide.
Then helter-skelter in we bang,
The dinner waits, we snuff the smell ”

“ But let them tyek a luik at wors
And tell us which the warst appears.
If ony, then, of Blacky's race
Ha'e harder cairds than wors te play,
Wey then, poor dogs, ower hard's their case,
And truth's in what wor preachers say. ”

“ Poor folks wad nut get fended suin--
They're now a tax on backy Iayin'--
Aw wonder when they will be duin.
It was but just the tother day
They rais'd the tea and sugar byeth:
Aw really see ne other way
And yit aw wad be raither lyeth ”

“ There's nyen aw tyest that ever beats
A geuss, 'the yess o' trumps' o' eatin'.
She myeks a real royal dish,
On which a king meet myek a myel:
Aw wadn't for a better wish,
Were aw te morn a king mysel'.
The oddments, tee, beat boil or fry,
Provided qeussy be a good un--
Eat famous in a giblet pie,
Cribb'd roun' wi' coils o' savoury puddin'. ”

“ And wark was niver knawn se slack,
And we've had sic a warsel through,
We cannot spare poor SALL a plack.'
'Hout, hinny! let's keep up wor hearts--
Ye'll see we'll myek a decent fend:
The warld gans a' by fits and starts--
When things are at the warst they'll mend.
Gi'e me but SALL, aw want ne mair,
The house aw'll fettle up mysel:
Aw'll work maw byens byeth lang and sair,
And at the pay she's hae the hyell.
Nay there's be nowt aw winnet de--
And SALL aw's sure will de the syem,
In joinin' heart and hand wi' me,
Te myek us byeth a happy hyem. ”

“ Shanks full o' mawks, and half-nowt cheese.
Of sic she feeds the bairns and me--
The tyesty bits she tyeks hersel',
In which ne share nor lot hev we,
Exceptin' sometimes i' the smell.
The crowdy is wor daily dish,
But varry different is their MINNY'S ”

“ And thou's ower young by far te wed--
Ye byeth ha'e mickle yit te learn.
Afore ye're fit to fight yor way
Through scant, and want, and misery,
Eneugh at sic a time te flay
Poor folks like uz frae bucklin' te. ”