Third Collection. The Humstrum
Why woonce, at Chris’mas-tide, avore The wold year wer a-reckon’d out, The humstrums here did come about, A-soundèn up at ev’ry door. But now a bow do never screäpe A humstrum, any where all round, An’ zome can’t tell a humstrum’s sheäpe, An’ never heärd his jinglèn sound. As ing-an-ing did ring the string, As ang-an-ang the wires did clang. The strings a-tighten’d lik’ to crack Athirt the canister’s tin zide, Did reach, a glitt’rèn, zide by zide, Above the humstrum’s hollow back. An’ there the bwoy, wi’ bended stick, A-strung wi’ heäir, to meäke a bow, Did dreve his elbow, light’nèn quick, Athirt the strings from high to low. As ing-an-ing did ring the string, As ang-an-ang the wires did clang. The mother there did stan’ an’ hush Her child, to hear the jinglèn sound, The merry maïd, a-scrubbèn round Her white-steäv’d païl, did stop her brush. The mis’ess there, vor wold time’s seäke, Had gifts to gi’e, and smiles to show, An’ meäster, too, did stan’ an’ sheäke His two broad zides, a-chucklèn low, While ing-an-ing did ring the string, While ang-an-ang the wires did clang. The players’ pockets wer a-strout, Wi’ wold brown pence, a-rottlèn in, Their zwangèn bags did soon begin, Wi’ brocks an’ scraps, to plim well out. The childern all did run an’ poke Their heads vrom hatch or door, an’ shout A-runnèn back to wolder vo’k. Why, here! the humstrums be about! As ing-an-ing did ring the string, As ang-an-ang the wires did clang.
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