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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Friday is pay-day: one Saturday
I was in at Callow's as you may say,
Lek a little sociable or that;
And a hape of miners; and there they sat
Like a Quakers' meetin' no talkin', no laughin',
Not the smallest taste of chaffin',
Till all of them was in the room,
Bless my sowl! a sort of a gloom
Over the lot. It'd be very near
A week or so after Hollantide feer,
And every chap, as he tuk his place
On the settle or that, you'd see the rest
Lift up their eye as sollum though,
Lek axin'; and him with a sort of a no,
And a shake of the head, and out with his clay,
And charges and sucks and draws away.
I was in at Callow's as you may say,
Lek a little sociable or that;
And a hape of miners; and there they sat
Like a Quakers' meetin' no talkin', no laughin',
Not the smallest taste of chaffin',
Till all of them was in the room,
Bless my sowl! a sort of a gloom
Over the lot. It'd be very near
A week or so after Hollantide feer,
And every chap, as he tuk his place
On the settle or that, you'd see the rest
Lift up their eye as sollum though,
Lek axin'; and him with a sort of a no,
And a shake of the head, and out with his clay,
And charges and sucks and draws away.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |