Poems and Lancashire Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

170

THE GRINDLESTONE.

[_]

Air—“Derry Down.”

I

It wur Dody o' Joseph's, a joiner by trade,
A comical cowt, an' a keen-bitten blade;
He're as fause as a boggart, as th' neighbours weel knew,
Though,—when he'd a mind,—he could look like a foo'.
Derry down.

II

But th' bravest an' breetest o' th' childer o' men
May haply be hamper't a bit, now an' then;
Dody's axe wanted grindin', one wark-a-day morn,
When there nobry about to gi' th' grindle a turn.
Derry down.

171

III

Then he grunted, an' mumble't, an' glendur't around,
An' he tooted about o'er the neighbourin' ground;
Still, never a soul to turn th' stone could he find,
An' it made him a little bit thrutched in his mind.
Derry down.

IV

Till a soft lookin' urchin coom wanderin' by,
Wi' his thumb in his mouth, an' a tear in his eye;
Wi' his slate an' his satchel, he're creepin' to schoo',
An',—bi th' look of his een,—Dody know'd he're a foo'.
Derry down.

V

“Bi th' maskins,” says Dody, “I'm losen't at last!”
An' he beckon't o' th' lad that wur wanderin' past!
“Come hither, my tight little maister o' men!”
Then he poo'd out a sixpence,—an' fobbed it again.
Derry down.

172

VI

“There's a grindlestone here—dosto think thou can turn;
If thou doesn't know how, I can help tho to larn.
I connot howd th' axe an' turn th' hondle mysel';
Thou'rt a nice lad o' somebry's—come, give us a twell!”
Derry down.

VII

Th' lad laid howd o' th' hondle, an' shap't like a mon;
For he lippen't o' sixpence, when th' turning wur done;
So, he twirl't at this grindle o' Dody o' Joe's,
Till saut-water trickl't off th' end of his nose.
Derry down.

VIII

Dody felt at his axe,—an' he said, “Thou young foo';
Thou'lt get a rare twiltin' for stoppin' fro' schoo';

173

Hie tho' off, like a red-shank, or th' dur may be teen'd:”
An' he gav' him a bit of a lifter beheend.
Derry down.

IX

Th' lad dried fro his for-yed the breet briny drip;
An' he pike'd up his books, wi' a wimperin' lip;
An' he crope off to schoo', turnin' o'er in his mind
Th' first lesson he'd larn't i' the pranks o' monkind.
Derry down.

X

As yo wander'n through life, ten 'at one that yo'n find
A good lot o' folk that han axes to grind;
Give a turn when yo con; but remember to th' end,
It's turnin' th' wrang road to turn on a friend.
Derry down.