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OWD NATTY DANE
by
Anon

Owd Natty Dane a sooater war,
An' 'ad bin all 'is life,
'e'd struggled 'ard thro' thick an' thin,
to keep 'is sen and wife.

Thro' t'ups an' downs o' life's rough road,
Wad Natty tease an' plague.
An' wife shood worry morn till neet,
Shoo war a fearful nague.

'Er temper used to drive poor Nat,
to find a sup o' ale,
afoor 'e'd car wi' 'er an hour,
'E'd spend a month i' jail.

Wi' merry jest an' jovial song,
An' pipe an' flowing bowl,
Owd Nat 'ad car wul turning out,
A free an' easy soul.

An' then a filling up 'e'd get,
An' off 'e'd pike upstairs,
Wull sho clashed t'oven door abaat,
An' raved an' tore 'er 'air.

One Friday neet as usual,
Nat landed full ta' throat,
Shoo pailed 'im down in t' rocking cheer,
An' rave is bit o't' coit.

Nat winked an' blinked an' wondered,
What I' world shoo wad do next,
For they've sitch silly gormless ways,
'As wimmen when they're vexed.

'E thowt 'e'd sham to be asleep,
an' watch wi' 'alf an ee.
Shoo called 'im all the offled tykes,
An' said 'e ought ta dee.

An' when shoo'd preached wull out o' breath,
All in a maddened egg,
Shoo'd look at Nat who calmly snored,
As 'appy as a pig.

Shoo then began to grope abaat,
'Is pockets up an' daan,
an' in 'is breaches reet 'and side,
shoo fun an old 'alf craan.

Shoo then fetched scissors an' shoo slit,
A hoil reet out o' seat,
So as ta make Nat think the coin 'ad dropped,
Thro' t'hoil somewhere in t'street.

An' when shood quietly crept upstairs,
An' paddled chamber floor,
Owd Nat laughed quietly to 'issen,
Thaat done that trick afoor.

But awl be even wi' thee lass,
Before tomorn at neet,
Thaal find tha's lost to thy sad cost,
A paand or two in t'street.

Next day when Nat 'ad drawn 'is brass,
'E called in to 'ave a glass,
an' study t'game 'e'd play
so as to jew t'old lass.

'E put 'is wages in 'is bacca box,
an' crammed it well wi' weed,
wondering if 'is little plan
was sewer to succeed.

'E 'urried 'ome wi' quickend steps,
whistling as if in glee,
'E fun 'is dinner all spread aat,
a steak, some cake an' tea.

Na lad am rare an' fair thaas come
Sit daan am sewer thaat tired,
An' get thy tea lad while it's warm,
So in ta t'meat Nat wired.

T'old lass fussed raand 'im,
Like bees raand an honey pot.
Shoo cut 'im shives of buttered cake,
An' 'is tea made nice an' 'ot.

Shoo shoved 'is slippers up ta t'fire,
an' made things all serene,
Shoo little thowt 'ow soon there'd be
A transformation scene.

Nat after dinner gate 'is pipe,
An' ricked away like steam,
Expecting every word a two,
Shoo'd open aat a scheme.

At last wife washed an' donned 'er up,
All ready for going to t' taan,
Nat lad give us thy bit o' brass,
To market 'all am baan.

Nat felt 'is pockets up an' daan,
In avery nick an' nook,
An' pulled a face as long as pot
An' gave 'er sich a look.

Bah lass am feared I've goan an' lost
My bit a 'ard earned brass,
Aw canna find it anywhere,
Wull that's a job wi' t' mass.

What lost thy wage tha gormless thing
Tha druffen idle 'aand,
Bet tha's spent two an' 'alf on it,
In t'ale'ouse I'll be baand.

Na doan't tell me thaa's lost thy wage,
Tha can't get over me.
Aw 'aven't a 'a'penny piece my lass,
I 'aven't sewerlee.

Wull turn thy pockets out an' look
An' lets 'ave nooa sham.
Nat quietly did as 'e were told,
As meekly as a lamb.

There's nowt tha sees an' then besides
Aw'd 'alf craan in t'pocket here,
Soa thy there's a hoil,
It must a' shuttered aat.

Nat looked so simple up ta wife,
An' scanned 'er reddened brow.
'E thowt old lass that's made thee sick
I think I 'ave thee now.

Wull that's a hangments anyhow,
Which way's tha come fra' wark.
'E told 'er an' shoo went ta look,
ne'er thinking of 'is lark.

In quick sticks Nat were washed an' dressed,
All in 'is Sunday best,
An' went ta spaws a day a two,
Ta spend 'is wage an' rest.

Wife wondered where 'e'd getten to,
'ad 'e goan off 'is 'ead.
'E sewrly 'and't draaned 'issen,
or 'ung while 'e were dead.

One day a letter came by t' post,
Fra' Nat at Morcambe Bay,
In which it said I've turned old lass,
An' 'ere aam baand to stay.

Until tha stitches up that hoil,
Thro' which a lost my wage,
Aw'm capt that not older grown
Ta say thaat sich an age.

An' when tha steals another coin,
Be sewer o' trick thaat playing,
Sich gormless wark it dosen't suit.
Yours truly Natty Dane.

T'is years ago but ever sin',
Nat's led a quieter life.
An' naa can get a sup o' ale,
Wi'out a word fra' t' wife.

 
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