Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/80

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HAT are ye shoutin' Lizzie? I'm comin' so quick as I can, An' what call have you to be talkin' with every passin' young man! The King! What King is there on ye—chut—capers—an' up these hills! Aw, well! Is it raelly the King, though? An' me in my dishabills!

Give us a heis up the hedge, gel—we'll be seein' handy from theer, To think of the King of Englan' comin' all the way up here! I'd like to have put a clean brat on me, but I hadn't no time at all, For I come so quick as I could the moment I heerd you call.

I min' they was used to be sayin' this falla was middlin' wile, An' lashins of gool spent at him since he was a lump of a chile. But th' oul' Queen nussed him clavver, and give him scope for to run, The knowing that he'd come to when he would have had his fun.

Aw the Lady she was! Ma word! Th' oul' Queedn that is gone, That was sittin' quite's an earwig, doin' judgment from her throne, An' the high wans goin' a scutchin' if they didn' be mindin' themselves, And an eye for the sarvents as well, that there wasn' no duss on the shelves.