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

197

JAMIE'S FROLIC.

I

One neet aw crope whoam when my weighvin' were o'er,
To brush mo, an' wesh mo, an' fettle my yure;
Then, trailin' abeawt, wi' my heart i' my shoon,
Kept tryin' my hond at a bit ov a tune,
As Mally sit rockin',
An' darnin' a stockin',
An' tentin' her bakin' i'th o'on.

198

II

Th' chylt were asleep, an' my clooas were reet,
Th' baggin' were ready, an' o' lookin' sweet;
But, aw're mazy, an' nattle, an' fasten't to tell
What the dule it could be that're ailin' mysel';
An' it made me so naught,
That, o' someheaw, aw thought,
“Aw could just like a snap at eawr Mall.”

III

Poor lass, hoo were kinder becose aw were quare;
“Come, Jamie, an' sattle thisel' in a cheer;
Thae's looked very yonderly mony a day;
It's grievin' to see heaw thae'rt wearin' away,

199

An' trailin' abeawt,
Like a hen at's i'th meawt;
Do, pritho, poo up to thi tay!

IV

“Thae wants some new flannels,—thae's getten a cowd,—
Thae'rt noather so ugly, my lad, nor so owd,—
But, thae'rt makin' thysel' into nought but a slave,
Wi' weighvin', an' thinkin', an' tryin' to save;—
Get summat to heyt,
Or thae'll go eawt o' seet,—
For thae'rt wortchin' thisel' into th' grave.”

V

Thinks I, “Th' lass's reet, an aw houd with her wit;”
So, aw said,—for aw wanted to cheer her a bit,—

200

“Owd crayter, aw've noan made my mind up to dee,—
A frolick'll just be the physic for me!
Aw'll see some fresh places,
An' look at fresh faces,—
An' go have a bit ov a spree!”

VI

Then, bumpin' an' splashin' her kettle went deawn;
“I'th name o' good Katty, Jem, wheer arto beawn?
An' what sort o' faces dost want,—con to tell?
Aw deawt thae'rt for makin' a foo o' thisel',—
The dule may tent th' oon;
Iv aw go witheawt shoon,
Aw'll see where thae gwos to, mysel'!”

201

VII

Thinks I, “Th' fat's i'th fire,—aw mun make it no wur,—
For there's plenty o' feightin' to do eawt o'th dur,—
So, aw'll talk very prattily to her, as heaw,
Or else hoo'll have houd o' my toppin in neaw;”
An' bith leet in her e'en,
It were fair to be seen
That hoo're ready to rive me i' teaw.

VIII

Iv truth mun be towd, aw began to be fain
To study a bit o' my cwortin' again;
So aw said to her, “Mally, this world's rough enoo!
To fo' eawt wi' thoose one likes best, winnut do,—

202

It's a very sore smart,
An' it sticks long i'th heart,”—
An', egad, aw said nought but what's true!

IX

Lord, heaw a mon talks when his heart's in his tung!
Aw roos't her, poor lass, an' showed hoo wur wrung,
Till hoo took mo bith hond, with a tear in her e'e,
An' said, “Jamie, there's nob'dy as tender as thee!
Forgi mo, lad, do;
For aw'm nobbut a foo,—
An' bide wi' mo, neaw, till aw dee!”

X

So, we'n bide one another, whatever may come;
For, there's no peace i'th world iv there's no peace a-whoam;

203

An' neaw, when a random word gi's her some pain,
Or makes her a little bit cross in her grain,
Sunshine comes back,
As soon as aw crack
O' beginning my cwortin' again.

Fettle my yure, put my hair to rights.

Tentin', minding, taking care of.

Baggin', the afternoon meal.

Nattle, snappish, short-tempered.

Sattle thisel', settle thyself.

Yonderly, absent-minded, thinking far away.

I'th meawt, in the moult, moulting.

Get summat to heyt, get somewhat to eat.

Wortchin', working.

I'th name o' good Katty, an ancient saying, “In the name of good St. Catharine.”

Toppin', the hair on the front of the brow.

Rive me i' teaw, tear me into two.

Cwortin', courting.

To fo' eawt, to fall out, to quarrel.

Aw roos't her, I praised her.