Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/23

Rh Noo works ’ithin his head or belly. An’ then we put upon the pack The settle, flat upon his back; An’ after that, a-tied in pairs In woone another, all the chairs, An’ bits o’ lumber wo’th a ride. An’ at the very top a-tied, The childern’s little stools did lie, Wi’ lags a-turn’d towárd the sky: Zoo there we lwoaded up our scroff, An’ tied it vast, an’ started off. An’,—as the waggon cooden car all We had to teäke,—the butter-barrel An’ cheese-wring, wi’ his twinèn screw. An’ all the païls an’ veäts, an’ blue Wold milk leads, and a vew things mwore, Wer all a-carr’d the day avore, And when the mwost ov our wold stuff Wer brought outside o’ thik brown ruf, I rambled roun’ wi’ narrow looks. In fusty holes an’ darksome nooks, To gather all I still mid vind, O’ rags or sticks a-left behind. An’ there the unlatch’d doors did creak, A-swung by winds, a-streamèn weak Drough empty rooms, an’ meäkèn sad My heart, where me’th woonce meäde me glad. Vor when a man do leäve the he’th An’ ruf where vu’st he drew his breath, Or where he had his bwoyhood’s fun, An’ things wer woonce a-zaid an’ done That took his mind, do touch his heart A little bit, I’ll answer vor’t. Zoo riddèn house is such a caddle, That I would rather keep my staddle.