Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/461

Rh On drough the work she had in hand, Zome bran-new thing that she’d a-plann’d, Jim overheärd her talk ageän O’ Robin Hine, ov Ivy Leäne, “Oh! no, what he!” she cried in scorn, “I wouldèn gie a penny vor’n; The best ov him’s outzide in view; His cwoat is gaÿ enough, ’tis true, But then the wold vo’k didden bring En up to know a single thing, An’ as vor zingèn,—what do seem His zingèn’s nothèn but a scream.” “So ho!” cried Jim, “Who’s that, then, Meäry, That you be now a-talkèn o’?” He thought to catch her then, but, no, Cried Polly, “Oh! why Jeäne’s caneäry, Wi’ what have you a-been misled, I wonder. Tell me what I zaid.”

Vier, Aïr, E’th, Water, wer a-meäde Good workers, each o’m in his treäde, An’ Aïr an’ Water, wer a-match &emsp;Vor woone another in a mill; The giant Water at a hatch, &emsp;An’ Aïr on the windmill hill. Zoo then, when Water had a-meäde Zome money, Aïr begrudg’d his treäde, An’ come by, unaweäres woone night, &emsp;An’ vound en at his own mill-head, An’ cast upon en, iron-tight,