THEN
AN' NAE
by
E. A. Lodge
When I were but a striplin'
An' bare a scoor year owd,
I thowt I'd gotten brains enuff
To fill all t'yeds i' t'fowd.
I used to roor wi' laffin'
At t'sharpness o' mi wit,
An' a joke I made one Kersmiss
Threw mi nuncle in a fit.
I used to think mi mother
Were a hundred year behund;
An' mi father - well, mi father
Nobbut fourteen aence to t'pund.
An' I often turned it ovver,
But I ne'er could fairly see
Yaeiver sich owd cronies
Could hae bred a chap like me.
An' whene'er they went to t'market,
I put mi fillin's in;
Whol mi father used to stop me
Wi', "Prithee, hold thy din.
Does ta think we're nobbut childer,
Wi' as little sense as thee?
When thy advice is wanted,
We'st axe thee, does ta see?"
But they gate it, wilta, shalta,
An' I did mi level best
To change their flea-blown notions,
Whol their yeds were laid to t'west.
This happened thirty year sin;
Nae I've childer o' mi own,
At's gotten cheek to tell me
At I'm a bit flea-blown. |
