A SONG.

BY MRS. ANNE WHEELER.

Tune,-"Bobbin Joan."

GUD morrow, gossip Nan,

Haw dus awe at heaam dea?

Haw dus ivvery yan,
Lile Dick en awe dea?
Tom is gaylie weel,
Sends his sarvis teaa ;
Sall hes hor her heel,

Er wod hea cum et seea.

Lile Dick hes deet his coat,
Wie follin widdle waddle,
He slird in wie his foat
Intul a dirty poadle.
Spinky hes coav'd a bull,
En I thout tea selt it;
Soo brak awt oth hull
En varra nearly kilt it.

Bett is girt wie barn;

I think they'r awe gane crasy;
She'd better mind her garn,
But she's fearful laasey.

En wha dea think mun haait,
They say simple Sammy;
Troth! I'd be laith to say't,
But it belongs to Jammy.

Awr lass hes taen her tow,
An gane in heaste to don her,
Shee's gaain toth this show,

For nowt et dow el cum on her.
Jennet went toth see't,

En com an telt sic wonders,
She sed nin like them cud deat;
Why, barn, they meaad it thunder.

Sic deains is awt ea rule,
Yee may be varra sartan,
They'r dealin wie the Dule
When they dra up ther cortan.
Wod awr Tom but stay oa neet,
When he gangs wie fish tae Kendal,
Mass! I'd gang en see't,

I'd kna haw they fend all.

I hae gitten a swoap a gin,

Rare hummin liquor,

Troth, I'm on the merry pin,

Cum gud lass be quicker.

Here's to oa awr varra gud healths,

En may we hae plenty on it;
I hate to drink by stealth,

Sfish! I hardly ken my bonnit.

I cannit miss this spot,
But mun coo et seea,

I'd rader gang rawndth Knot,
Then nit say haw deea.
Fare yee weel, dear Ann.

As I am a sinner,

Clock hes strucken yan,

Fleaks toth fry for dinner.

THE KIRBY FEIGHT.*

EIGHTY-EIGHT wor Kirby feight,

When nivver a man was slain;

They yatt their meaat, an drank ther drink,
An sae com merrily heaam agayn.

*After the abdication of James the Second, in the year 1688, a rumour was spread in the north of England, that he was lying off the Yorkshire coast, ready to make a descent with a numerous army from France, in hopes of regaining his lost throne. This report gave the Lord Lieutenant of Westmoreland an opportunity of showing his own and the people's attachment to the new order of things; he accordingly called out the Posse Comitatus, comprising all able-bodied men from sixteen to sixty. The order was obeyed with alacrity, and the inhabitants met armed in a field called Miller's Close, near Kendal, from whence they marched to Kirby Lonsdale. This historical fact explains the above popular rhyme, the meaning of which is, at this day, perhaps, not generally understood.

THE APPLEBY SCHOOL-BOY'S SPEECH.

WE

E wur twoa lile lads et hed tae coe et a smiddy, tae hev our new clogs cakert en snout bandit. Hefter that we clanterd dawnt street, en hed tae gang tae a lile tawn coed Burrels ; we set dawn that titter up sud coe tudder up neisht mornin, but it happend that I laid ower lang ea bed. I plaid trouen three heaal days, en then ventert tae gang taet skule. When th maister saa me, he sed, You sir, cum here. I went up sadly freetent. He sed, What for hev yee been sae lang away? I sed, I wod hae cum titter, but th wedder was sae clashy, anth loans sae clarty, et me grondfadder sed I cud nivver git teaard throut.

THE BRIGSTEER

PEAT-LEADER'S

SPEECH.

MY deam gat a bad stitchen pain in her side

this summer wie forkin hay; she tryd oa ath nebbors cud think on tae mend her, but nin on them cud due her onny gud. She was sae ill, barn, I wod nit hev given a peat for her life; but hevin sum of Rauk's Balsam ith cubbert, et awr lad hed

been tackin on for a brocken showder, an he is now mendan connoly, thinken it mappen mud due her gud, she gat hald et bottle, wieawt mindent direction-paaper, an teuk a girt swig; it went thro ivvery bean in her skin, aye, tea her varra teaaends, barn! She was better derectly, en hes aild nowt nivver sen.

END OF THE WESTMORELAND DIALECT.