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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
526
In the big dam yandhar, or clouted and mucked,
And all his fine clothes a soakin' like runnet,
And navar the wiser who was it that done it;
Aye, and caught in the dark, and pounded
At these divils, and navar the one of them rounded
Upon the others—aw, true as wedges,
And huntin' these drapers over the hedges,
And sthoo'd a chap by the name of Jones,
Every step to the Cloven Stones.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |