_The vu’st Peärt._
An’ zoo’s the day wer warm an’ bright,
An’ nar a cloud wer up in zight,
We wheedled father vor the meäre
An’ cart, to goo to Shrodon feäir.
An’ Poll an’ Nan run off up stairs,
To shift their things, as wild as heäres;
An’ pull’d out, each o’m vrom her box,
Their snow-white leäce an’ newest frocks,
An’ put their bonnets on, a-lined
Wi’ blue, an’ sashes tied behind;
An’ turn’d avore the glass their feäce
An’ back, to zee their things in pleäce;
While Dick an’ I did brush our hats
An’ cwoats, an’ cleän ourzelves lik’ cats.
At woone or two o’clock, we vound
Ourzelves at Shrodon seäfe an’ sound,
A-struttèn in among the rows
O’ tilted stannèns an’ o’ shows,
An’ girt long booths wi’ little bars
Chock-vull o’ barrels, mugs, an’ jars,
An’ meat a-cookèn out avore
The vier at the upper door;
Where zellers bwold to buyers shy
Did hollow round us, “What d’ye buy?”
An’ scores o’ merry tongues did speak
At woonce, an’ childern’s pipes did squeak,
An’ horns did blow, an’ drums did rumble,
An’ bawlèn merrymen did tumble;
An’ woone did all but want an edge
To peärt the crowd wi’, lik’ a wedge.
We zaw the dancers in a show
Dance up an’ down, an’ to an’ fro,
Upon a rwope, wi’ chalky zoles,
So light as magpies up on poles;
An’ tumblers, wi’ their streaks an’ spots,
That all but tied theirzelves in knots.
An’ then a conjurer burn’d off
Poll’s han’kerchief so black’s a snoff,
An’ het en, wi’ a single blow,
Right back ageän so white as snow.
An’ after that, he fried a fat
Girt ceäke inzide o’ my new hat;
An’ yet, vor all he did en brown,
He didden even zweal the crown.
SHRODON FEÄR.
_The rest o’t._
An’ after that we met wi’ zome
O’ Mans’on vo’k, but jist a-come,
An’ had a raffle vor a treat
All roun’, o’ gingerbread to eat;
An’ Tom meäde leäst, wi’ all his sheäkes,
An’ païd the money vor the ceäkes,
But wer so lwoth to put it down
As if a penny wer a poun’.
Then up come zidelèn Sammy Heäre,
That’s fond o’ Poll, an’ she can’t bear,
A-holdèn out his girt scram vist,
An’ ax’d her, wi’ a grin an’ twist,
To have zome nuts; an’ she, to hide
Her laughèn, turn’d her head azide,
An’ answer’d that she’d rather not,
But Nancy mid. An’ Nan, so hot
As vier, zaid ‘twer quite enough
Vor Poll to answer vor herzuf:
She had a tongue, she zaid, an’ wit
Enough to use en, when ‘twer fit.
An’ in the dusk, a-ridèn round
Drough Okford, who d’ye think we vound
But Sam ageän, a-gwäin vrom feäir
Astride his broken-winded meäre.
An’ zoo, a-hettèn her, he tried
To keep up clwose by ouer zide:
But when we come to Haÿward-brudge,
Our Poll gi’ed Dick a meänèn nudge,
An’ wi’ a little twitch our meäre
Flung out her lags so lights a heäre,
An’ left poor Sammy’s skin an’ bwones
Behind, a-kickèn o’ the stwones.
—————
The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
© Poetry Monster, 2021.
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