Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/116

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morn t’ye, John. How b’ye? how b’ye? Zoo you be gwaïn to market, I do zee. Why, you be quite a-lwoaded wi’ your geese.

Ees, Thomas, ees. Why, I’m a-gettèn rid ov ev’ry goose An’ goslèn I’ve a-got: an’ what is woose, I fear that I must zell my little cow.

How zoo, then, John? Why, what’s the matter now? What, can’t ye get along? B’ye run a-ground? An’ can’t paÿ twenty shillèns vor a pound? What can’t ye put a lwoaf on shelf?

&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Ees, now; But I do fear I shan’t ’ithout my cow. No; they do meän to teäke the moor in, I do hear, An’ ’twill be soon begun upon; Zoo I must zell my bit o’ stock to-year. Because they woon’t have any groun’ to run upon.

Why, what d’ye tell o’? I be very zorry To hear what they be gwaïn about; But yet I s’pose there ’ll be a ’lotment vor ye, When they do come to mark it out.