 | Poems, Ballads and Bucolics |  |
214
THE FOX AND HOUND.
“I hears the wheeals o' the market cart coom lumberin' round,
They'll stop this side o' the corner, fur twenty thousand pound,
Fur nivver a herse but 'e knaws he may baäte at the Fox and Hound:
Fox's earth! but it's men, not dogs, as follers him into the ground.
They'll stop this side o' the corner, fur twenty thousand pound,
Fur nivver a herse but 'e knaws he may baäte at the Fox and Hound:
Fox's earth! but it's men, not dogs, as follers him into the ground.
“Theer's a shackulty noise in carts when carts is droonk—tha can tell.
Yeës, yeës, they've chaänged the sign, it 'ed used to be called the Bell;
Corps-bell, I reckon's reight naäme, but the Spotted Dog hings as well—
For wheerivver the liquor is laäid fur a scent, it 'ull hunt a man to hell.
Yeës, yeës, they've chaänged the sign, it 'ed used to be called the Bell;
Corps-bell, I reckon's reight naäme, but the Spotted Dog hings as well—
For wheerivver the liquor is laäid fur a scent, it 'ull hunt a man to hell.
215
“Now, giv' it a naäme!
I beg! Two fourpennies, cold wi'out?”
“Cold wi'in, tha should saäy.” “Noa, thankee!” “A pint o' stout?
Giv' it a naäme, luvvy, doä.” “Much luvv in the cup, noä doubt!
Yon man was mad wi' his missus this morn, and still she's hall of a pout.
“Cold wi'in, tha should saäy.” “Noa, thankee!” “A pint o' stout?
Giv' it a naäme, luvvy, doä.” “Much luvv in the cup, noä doubt!
Yon man was mad wi' his missus this morn, and still she's hall of a pout.
“Giv' it a naäme! Ay, do; it's just what it wants is a naäme!
A pot of poison! a pint of murder! a gill of flaäme!
It's my opinion if fwoaks ud nobbut christen it saäme
As they doä theer bairns i' the choorch once an' all, theer 'ud be a deäl less o' the gaäme.
A pot of poison! a pint of murder! a gill of flaäme!
It's my opinion if fwoaks ud nobbut christen it saäme
As they doä theer bairns i' the choorch once an' all, theer 'ud be a deäl less o' the gaäme.
“I was oop at the Sessions to-year mysen along o' the swill,
Fur Bogg had been to the Stattis and gotten a solid fill;
An' Bogg, he scrawmed my faäce, and treated me shaämeful ill,
But he hired a barrister chap—one o' them as can fooarce ya to saäy what he will.
Fur Bogg had been to the Stattis and gotten a solid fill;
An' Bogg, he scrawmed my faäce, and treated me shaämeful ill,
But he hired a barrister chap—one o' them as can fooarce ya to saäy what he will.
216
And the monkey theer wi' his powdery heäd, he maäde me a hass:
Didn't I take a pint mysen? and droonk? Bogg had nobbut a glass.
A glass! well he might be fresh—fresheesh if it came to that pass,
But droonk!—the jurymen knew a man droonk was in quoite a different class.’
Didn't I take a pint mysen? and droonk? Bogg had nobbut a glass.
A glass! well he might be fresh—fresheesh if it came to that pass,
But droonk!—the jurymen knew a man droonk was in quoite a different class.’
“So I paäid; but they classed him wrong, and for want of a naäme an' all.
Pshaw! ‘fresheesh!’ ‘took a glass!’ ‘looked in at the Golden Ball!’
Give it a naäme, I beg! Let the Fieënd wi' owr land i' thrall
Be naämed Fieënd clear to 'is faäce—we are men—and the droonkard a droonkard call!”
Pshaw! ‘fresheesh!’ ‘took a glass!’ ‘looked in at the Golden Ball!’
Give it a naäme, I beg! Let the Fieënd wi' owr land i' thrall
Be naämed Fieënd clear to 'is faäce—we are men—and the droonkard a droonkard call!”
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