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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
So this is where Nelly Quine was livin'
For a housemaid with them. I don't know were they givin'
High wages or not; but it was a sort of a place
That was very grand, for Manx at laste—
The people was lookin' up to it uncommon—
And the misthress, you know, an Englishwoman—
And a hape of sarvints, and a sort of a style
With them altogether: and the best part of a mile
Of plantin' and that; and a gardener (Scotch)
And a butler with a gool watch—
And bulls, and hosses, and a little laddy
With buttons runnin' all over his body—
Style, you know—his name was Kelly.
So all that summer Tommy and Nelly
Was meetin' in the meadows there;
But still, for all, he didn' dare
To ax her would she love him a bit,
Only they'd linger a little, and sit
Till the bell 'd be out. And once she stayed
So long, you know, that she felt afraid
To go in at all; and cried and cried;
Aye, and wouldn' be pacified,
And wouldn' spake to him. And Tommy said
He was very sorry—but she turned and fled
Like a pigeon (you know she could run rather fast)
And away with her to the Ballaglass.
For a housemaid with them. I don't know were they givin'
High wages or not; but it was a sort of a place
That was very grand, for Manx at laste—
The people was lookin' up to it uncommon—
And the misthress, you know, an Englishwoman—
And a hape of sarvints, and a sort of a style
With them altogether: and the best part of a mile
Of plantin' and that; and a gardener (Scotch)
And a butler with a gool watch—
And bulls, and hosses, and a little laddy
With buttons runnin' all over his body—
Style, you know—his name was Kelly.
So all that summer Tommy and Nelly
Was meetin' in the meadows there;
But still, for all, he didn' dare
To ax her would she love him a bit,
Only they'd linger a little, and sit
Till the bell 'd be out. And once she stayed
So long, you know, that she felt afraid
274
Aye, and wouldn' be pacified,
And wouldn' spake to him. And Tommy said
He was very sorry—but she turned and fled
Like a pigeon (you know she could run rather fast)
And away with her to the Ballaglass.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |