Third Collection. Daniel Dwithen
Dan Dwithen wer the chap to show His naïghbours mwore than they did know, Vor he could zee, wi’ half a thought, What zome could hardly be a-taught; An’ he had never any doubt Whatever ’twer, but he did know’t, An’ had a-reach’d the bottom o’t, Or soon could meäke it out. Wi’ narrow feäce, an’ nose so thin That light a’most shone drough the skin, As he did talk, wi’ his red peäir O’ lips, an’ his vull eyes did steäre. What nippy looks friend Daniel wore, An’ how he smiled as he did bring Such reasons vor to clear a thing, As dather’d vo’k the mwore! When woonce there come along the road At night, zome show-vo’k, wi’ a lwoad Ov half the wild outlandish things That crawl’d, or went wi’ veet, or wings; Their elephant, to stratch his knees, Walk’d up the road-zide turf, an’ left His tracks a-zunk wi’ all his heft As big’s a vinny cheese. An’ zoo next mornèn zome vo’k vound The girt round tracks upon the ground, An’ view’d em all wi’ stedvast eyes, An’ wi’ their vingers spann’d their size. An’ took their depth below the brink: An’ whether they mid be the tracks O’ things wi’ witches on their backs, Or what, they coulden think. At last friend Dan come up, an’ brought His wit to help their dizzy thought, An’ lookèn on an’ off the ea’th, He cried, a-drawèn a vull breath, Why, I do know; what, can’t ye zee ’t? I’ll bet a shillèn ’twer a deer Broke out o’ park, an’ sprung on here, Wi’ quoits upon his veet.
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