 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
But scoulded a little too, and How
Did the father ever go and allow
The like of her, that hadn' no call,
To be goin' to Hollantide fair at all?
But goin' by herself? “I went with my aunt,”
Says Nessy. “She's a woman that's scant
Of prudence,” says the Pazon, says he—
“Billy's widow—and where is she?”
“I think she's tuk at these poleeses,”
Says Nessy. “There's aunts that's worse till their nieces,”
The Pazon said; and indeed he'd spake
To her father, he said. Aw, the sake! the sake!
“And beseechin' he wouldn'. “I owe it,” he says,
“To your father,” the good-naturedest,
The simplest man that ever he knew—
“Poor Brew!” he says, “poor Jemmy Brew!”
Did the father ever go and allow
The like of her, that hadn' no call,
To be goin' to Hollantide fair at all?
But goin' by herself? “I went with my aunt,”
Says Nessy. “She's a woman that's scant
Of prudence,” says the Pazon, says he—
“Billy's widow—and where is she?”
“I think she's tuk at these poleeses,”
Says Nessy. “There's aunts that's worse till their nieces,”
The Pazon said; and indeed he'd spake
To her father, he said. Aw, the sake! the sake!
“And beseechin' he wouldn'. “I owe it,” he says,
“To your father,” the good-naturedest,
The simplest man that ever he knew—
“Poor Brew!” he says, “poor Jemmy Brew!”
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |