Richard Lower was born at Alfriston, Sussex on the 19th of September 1782. He opened a school about 1803 in the parish of Chiddingly, where he must have known many of our Funnell ancestors. The villagers were quite proud to have a famous author in their midst until they realized he was “taking the mick” (making fun of them). He resided there until a few months before his death in 1865. In 1830, his first work was printed as a sixpenny pamphlet: Tom Cladpole’s Jurney to Lunnon, told by himself, and written in pure Sussex doggerel by his Uncle Tim.
Spiced with the ancestor of typical British humour, his text offers not only an insight into the changing world of our rural ancestors (the “pleece” or London Bobbies were formed in 1829) but also as to how “they spoke Sussex”.
You will not regret making the effort of reading to the end…
MOST people want to know when dey buy a book who is de author ov it. So oae says to another, “An who is dis Tom Cladpole wot maaks sich a fuss about he’s travels ?” Why Tom ent ashamed ov he’s clawney, so he wishes me to tell ye a liddle about un. OV Cain was de fust an um, an he jes was a g’urt Farmer; ye may be sure ov dat, fer he built a City ; now uf eny ov our Farmers build a Barn, a Stable, or even a Hog-poun, ’tis thought much ov ! Howsomever uf dis Cain wos a gurt man, he wos loike a dunnamany other gurt men, good for naun ; but good or bad, he wos de Father ov all de Cladpoles, an t’wood taak me up a wick to tell about um all.
So I shall onny goo back to Tom’s Grandfuther, dat is to my Father, who about a half a hundred year agoo or dareaway, used a Farm ov about twenty acres under Squyer Squeezer about dat time de French kicked upa row an cut der King’s head off! Dat made our King so lamantable crass fer fear dey wou’d cut he’s head off too dat he set to fighten de French at a robben ov a rate, an all dat wos able wos off a soageren ; an ever sense dat time dere has been two families ov de Cladpoles, de gurt Cladpoles and de liddle Cladpoles. De gurt uns wont own de liddle uns fer ken now ; howsumever dey be ken to us, an I can proye it, fer Tom’s Granmother whose name wos Sue Slapver, wos
fust cousin to de present Squyer Slapper’s Father, an he’s own Mother wos a Cladpole, so ye see dat we be all ov a breed loike.
I think Tom is de fust dat ever told about he’s Travels, fer dis reason, acaus all de family be troubled wud sich bad eyes j fer as my ol’ cousin Sam Quizum used to say, dere never wos a Cladpole dat ever coud look higher dan de top ov de mow, nor deeper dan de plow went.
Now if dere shud be enny body wot dont loike to believe me about our Family, let um go an ax de Parson, fer he has got all der names in he’s gurt book ; besides ye know wot de Parson says must be right, fer he is paid fer tellen de truth.
Well dat is all we can say about Tom at present : mayhap we may tell a liddle more about our family sum dey but now about de book Tom has sold
another thousand ov um an lacks more now, so he has got sum more prented. It cums to a power ov money fer prenten, an wot is wos, Tom sent sum to a fellur at Lunaun, an never got de money fer urn; so Tarn ‘low* dat de Lunnuner’s be all a peck ov rubbage together, but dat dey say is a trick ov trade, an so de trade beant a bit onester dan dey shud be ; but ’tis no manner ov use a grumblp, as I have sumwhere read –
“Though fretting may make our calamities deeper,
“It never can make bread and cheese to be cheaper !
an uf we can git brenclieese I think we had better maak ourselves contented. Sum fellurs hav lacked Tom to be off a cJiarten, but Tom knows better dan all dat, fer he ‘lows dat wull be de way to git into Lewes
Jail, an dere he wull git no cheese wud he’s bread, an dat chep must be a fool wot can git brencheese uf he throws away de cheese an eats de bread alone !
I forgot to tell ye dat de book is bigger dis time, as Tom forgot to tell one story dat appened as he wos cummin home frum Lunnun.
So I wish ye well, an good bye to ye all.
Yer ol’ fren,
TOM CLADPOLE’S JURNEY TO LUNNUN.
1 LAST Middlemus I ‘member well,
When harvest was all over ;
Us cheps had hous’d up all de banes,
An stack’d up all de clover.
2 I think says I, I’ll take a trip
To Lunnun, dat I wol,
An see how things goo on a bit.
Lest I shu’d die a fool !
3 Fer Sister Sal, five years agoo,
Went off wud Squyer Brown ;
Housemaid, or summut, don’t know what,
To live at Lunnun town.
4 Dey ‘hav’d uncommon well to Sal,
An ge ur clothes an dat ;
So Sal ‘hav’d nashun well to dem,
An grow’d quite tall an fat.
5 I ax’d 0l’ Ben to let me goo,
(Hem rum ol’ fellur he,)
He scratched his wig : “To Lunnun Tom ?”
Den turn’d his quid, “I’11 see.”
6 So strate to mother home goos I,
An thus to ur did say :
“Mother I’ll goo an see our Sal,
Fer measter says I may.”
7 De poor ol’ Gal did shake ur head,
“Ah ! Tom ‘twant never do,
Poor Sal is gone a tejus way,
An must I now lose you ?
8 I never shall furgit de dey,
When Sal an I did part,
If sum mishap shud fall to you
I’m sure tud braak ma hart,
9 Besides dey kidnap people dere,
Ah ! ketch um by surprize,
An send um off were nub’dy knows,
Or baak um up in pies !”
10 “Sho pies ! I be’nt a bit affeard,
1 shud’nt valley three,
I’11 send ma fist among der skulls,
An maak um ‘member me
11 “Well, sen ya wull so headstrong be,
Sum riggen we must git,
I’ll wash ya out another shurt,
AH sprug ya up a bit.
12 Yur od haboots wol never do,
Yur wesket, how is dat ?
Yur olive frock’s as good as new,
But den ya lack a hat.”
13 “Ah never mind, I’ve got ya know
Three sufrens good and bright,
I arn’d um all a harvesten,
Luk here’s a pretty sight !
14 An darn ma wig, I wol fer wonce
Have jest a merry jerk,
I’ll lay out ev’ry tuppence ant
Afore I goo to work.”
15 “But winter’s cummen Tom ya know,
An den ya’ll lack de brads,
Ya know how ’tis wud Poddies now,
Dey won’t employ de lads.”
16 “Ol’ Pinchgut den must find us work,
Fer Overseer is he ;
He’ll grumble when he sets us on,
But jigger, what care we !
17 Here’s off den down to Billy Wax,
Fer he’s haboots be best ;–
He sells straa-hats an overknees,-
An den I shall be drest.”
18 Well, so nix mornen up scratch J d I
An Mother up scratch’d she,
She cry’d an ‘low’d tud braak ur hart
In parten thus wud me !
19 “Now Tom” says she, “besure Tom do,
‘Have well were ya be gwyn,
Whatever others do to you,
An never turn agra.”
20 “Yes, very purtty fancy dat !
No blow ma jackut tight,
If dey begin der rigs wud me,
I’ll dewced soon show fight !”
21 “So good bye Mother !” off I goos
As fast as I cud brish ;
But thought as I went by our shaa
I’d cut a liddle swish.
22 ‘Twas ashen butt, both tuff an strong,
De gurt ene had a nub ;
An s’pose we say ’bout three fut long,
An taper’d loike a club.
23 Now wislen up de drove I goos,
Close by ol’ Grinder’s Mill,
Birds sung an seem’d to cheer me up,
As I went down de hill.
24 Many long miles I shuffled on
As fast as I cud goo,
At last I ‘gun to feel ya see,
De haboot ring my toe.
25 A liddle aluss stood close by,
Thinks I, I’ll goo in here,
An git ya see, a coger loike
Ov good brencheese an beer.
26 De umman ge a bit o’ rag
About my toe to tie,
I think’d ur for’t, mopp’d up de beer,
An off agin went I !
27 Now wost ant was, I cud’nt read
De letters on de post,
So sumtimes I went roun about,
An otherwile was lost !
28 I howsumever trudg’d away,
An see de sun went down,
Jest as I cum upon de brow
Dat leads to Crayton town.
29 So now thinks I, I think I’ll stay,
An ax urn fer a lodgen ;
An wen de mornen cums agin,
Why den I can be bodgen.
30 De aluss stood upon de right,
An was both big an fine,
An had I think, (but most furgit)
A Jack Ass fer a sine !
31 I seed a man upon de steps
“Well measter” den I sed,
“If I stop here, what wol ya charge
32 At fust he bawl’d out rather bruss,
An den he squirr’d aroun
Much loike a pegtap, den sed he,
“Why on’ny half-a-crown !”
33 What ! half-a-crown fer one poor snore ?
Good lack how I did stare !
“Den git along ya clown,” sed he,
An den he ‘gun to swear.
34 If ‘twa’nt fer git ten in a scrape
About dis half-a-crown,
I’d us’d my ashen swish a bit,
An lay’d de dandy down
35 I ‘member’d too what Mother sed,
An so I went away !
An den I seed a osier chep, ‘
An so I ‘gun to say :
36 “Ol’ mate 1 cum a tejus way,
A fur as I be able,
I’ll trate ya wud a pot o’ beer,
To let me in yur stable.
37 Where I may rest myself a bit,
An sleep away de nite,
Den 1 can start away ya see,
When mornen peeps de lite.”
38 “Why yahs ya seem a ‘onest man’
De stable chep did say,
“Ya may lay down in dat are pen,
Among dat good soth hay.
39 “Der’s nun but ‘onest men must cum,
Fer times be gitten queer -,
Nothen ya know loike ‘onesty,
So ya be welcum here.”
40 I thought de man was monstus good,
I’d treat un well fer dis,
So out into de street I goos,
To git sum more brencheese.
41 Well den we set an stufFd away,
An talk’d of one an tother ;
He told about his uncle Dick,
An I about my Mother.
42 So arter dun-a-much more talk,
He sed he must be gwyn,
“Good nite, he says.” “Good nite ol’ mate”
Says I ; an den turn’d in.
43 Now be’en tir’d, ya may be sure,
I soon fell fast asleep,
Soun’ly I snor’d, an never wak’d
‘Till dee-light ‘gun to peep.
44 Nor shud I den, but turnen roun,
I felt sum liddle twitches ;
An what d’ ye think ? ’twas sumb’dy’s han,
A grabben at my britches !
45 Hallo ! says I, wat do ya here ?
But not a word he sed ;
Wud dat I fetch’d un sich a clout,
Dat made un shake his head.
46 I now ketch’d up my liddle swish,
An den he took a squallen,
I ge un sich a preshus wipe,
An down I laid un sprawllen.
47 Den he begin to beg and pray,
An I was plaguy crass,
I sed I’d split he’s canister,
If he oo’nt say who he was.
48 An soon I foun de rascal now,
Dat I had bin a beatin,
Was he who talk’d of ‘onesty‘,
De nite afore when treatin !
49 I claa’d holt an im by de throt,
Fer I was gittin mad,
“I’ll ha ya to a majesty,
Yes dat I wol my lad !”
50 He ‘low’d he’d ge me half-a-crown,
An treat me wud sum beer,
If I wud make it up wud him,
An let un goo off clear.
51 I did’nt lack to hort de chep,
So we shook hands and parted,
He went to cure he’s blue-black eye,
An I fer Lunnun started.
52 Thinks I ’tis rather funny too,
How dis shud cum about ;
I’ve got more money in ma bag,
Dan when I fust cum out.
53 I’d better git a bit o’ grub,
Afore I furder goo,
Jes den I see’d sum sassages
Hang in a gurt long row.
54 De butcher kipt a aluss too,
An soon fry’d up a poun,
An den another pot o’ beer,
Dat wash’d um nicely down.
55 Den off I goos, both fresh and strong,
Nor did I stop agin,
‘Till I did cum upon de bredge,
Where wessels do cum in.
56 I b’leve I did jes goggle roun,
As on de bredge I stood,
It look’d fer all de world jes loike
Our twenty-acre ‘ood !
57 So arter I had look’d awhile,
I thought ’twas time to quyer
If anybody know’d our Sal,
Or else mayhap de Squyer.
58 “Pray measter do ya know our Sal ?
She lives wud Squyer Brown,
At Govs’nor Square,” – “O bless de man,
Dats ‘tother side de town.”
59 So up an down, an in an out,
Roun crooks an turns I went,
To find “de ‘tother side de town,”
‘Till I was gran nigh spent.
60 Sum sed I was ol’ leather ligs,
Sum pynted to ma hat,
An ax’d me uf a swarm o’ bees
Was housen under dat.
61 But I din’dt mind der jibs a bit,
Still ax’d fer Squyer Brown,
An darn urn, all dat I cud git,
“‘Tis ‘tother side de town !”
62 Furder I went, an tir’d anuf,
‘Till turnen roun a corner ;
I met (’twas quite by exceldent,)
Ol’ crumple foot Jack Horner !
63 Rite glad was I to meet uii too,
An soon he had me back ;
I never shud foun Govs’nor Square,
Uf ‘twant fer poor ol’ Jack.
64 He show’d me to a gurt fine house,
An glad anuf besure
Was I to bed ol’ Jan good bye,
An see de Squyer’ door.
65 Sum gurt roun steps den up I goos,
As white as any wall ;
I ge de door a thump or two,
An who shud cum but Sal.
66 Now dash ma wig I cud’nt spake
As soon as I did see ur,
An Sal begun to bellur out,
It made us both so queer !
67 So I buss’d Sal an Sal buss’d me
As in de house we went,
‘Till Madam Brown did tell us how
To maak ourselves content.
68 Fer Madam Brown’s a uman good,
Aldo a lady fine,
She ax’d me how ma Mother did,
An ge me cakes an wine,
69 Wud beef, an beer, an gin, an stuff,
Dey kipt me loike a king,
Anjsed nixt dee, dat Sal shud goo
An show me everything.
70 Now Sal ya see, Sally I mean,
(Fer so dey call’d her dere,)
Had got a liddle man dat ust’
To cut de ladies’ hair.
71 He cuddled Sally ya must know,
(Les wise I guess’d’ ’twas so,)
So we went, down to ‘quyre ov him
Uf he wid us ud goo.
72 He’s shop was fine, an smell’d so sweet,
Wud heads dat look’d loike life,
Hem purtty too was won an um,
Jes loike our Doctor’s Wife.
73 “Well Robert will you go with us ?”
Sally to him did say,
My brother wants to see the town,
Now do go with us pray !”
74 “To morrow morning then do come,”
So Robert did agree,
Den I an Sally sed “good nite,”
An home agin went we.
75 We went to bed and slept awhile,
An den de mornen cum,
So I foun out der deys an nites
Was ’bout loike ours at home !
76 De mornen cum, de dee was fine,
Barber an all was ready,
Wud dun ya good to see our Sal,
She look’d jes loike a Lady !
77 Robert as any carrot smart,
Wud trowscrs, boots, and dat,
Dang it ! I thought. if Mother know’d,
She’d say, “Dey cut it fat !”
78 Sally ya know, was six fut tall,
(It makes me grin,) but den,
Poor liddle Robert was but five,
I think but four fut ten !
79 We met sich houghy site ov folks,
Hosses an coaches fine,
As arm an arm dey march’d afore,
An I trudg’d on behind.
80 We went into a gurt high church,
‘Twas very well besure,
Naun much but tombstones to be sin,
An sich I’ve sin afore.
81 We went into a wile beast show,
I den begin to stare,
To see de lion an de ‘olf,
A lepper an a bear.
82 An den a gurt ol’ helefant,
Which I shud think doe relly,
Our measter’s bull wud tarnal nigh
Goo underncad his belly !
83 To see he’s tail on ‘tother ene,
I laffed my breath all out :
Per dat wat shud a hung beliine,
Was Bwingin on he’s snout !
84 De monkeys too, – an won an um
Set in a gurt arm-chair,
He smok’d a pipe o’ baccor well,-
Dey call him de Lord Mayor.
85 An won thing too, I never see’d
De loike in all my borns,
” It was fer all de world jes loike
A jack -ass wud two horns.
86 So den we went to see de burds,
An soon as we was cum,
Won parrot know’d me (can’t tell
An sung out, “Ah ! wot Tom !”
87 Now dat was liddle odd to me,
An made me mortal queer,
I thought as how sum cunnen men,
Or witches liven here !
88 I went to stroke poor Poll abit,
An ge de thing a plum,
Dart me she ge’n me sich a gripe,
Went rite smack thro’ ma thum.
89 We walk’d agin all roun about,
‘Till to de park we cum,
So dere we see a soadger fine,
A beatin ov he’s drum.
90 An den cum out hem av a kit
Ov soadgers, big an tall,
Wud shiiien guns all in a row,
As strate as any wall.
91 An den a slick bruss master man,
He’d got a gurt long sword,
He quarrel’d at de soadgers so,
Dey never sed a word.
92 But wot he sed I did’nt know,
At last he hollor’d “Weel,”
An ev’ry soadger march’d away,
Not won an um was still.
93 De music play’d, de drums did beat,
De soadgers all was prancin,
Sally, an I, an liddle Bob,
Was gran nigh set a dancin !
94 I’d loike to be a soadger too
I thaut wen dey was gone ;
But den I thaut I never wud
Be quarrel’d at fer naun !
95 De nix fine site we went to see
Was where de bosses run.
Full gallop roun an roun a ring,
My eye dat jes was fun ?
96 Fer fellurs ride heels upards dere,
May be ya think I lie,
Won an urn had a pair o’ wings,
An fancy he did fly !
97 Sum twist as if der bones was out,
Jes loike so many eels,
An turn der heads hine side afore,
Down undernead der heels.
98 ‘Twas arternoon an we was tir’d
An summut lack’d to eat,
So Robert sed he’d ha us out,
An ge us a gud treat.
99 An so he did, wud staaks an pies,
An dun know what beside,
But everything was mighty good
To stuff a fellur’s hide !
100 We den cum to a twitten place,
All overhung an dark,
‘Twas hem-an-all de nighest way
Dat brung us from de park,
101 But sea-a-bit, ud we went dere,
Had we know’d how tud bin,
De wost ant was, as I will tell
De mess dat we got in.
102 Fer ‘tother ene a kit o’ boys,
So ragged, ruff, an rudy,
Stud staren at a jockey dere,
“Who’d got a Punch-an-Judy.
103 So gooen jest acrass de road,
To look at Punch’s fun,
De saacy brats as we stud dere,
Der rigs dey gin to run.
104 Dey sed dat Sally was long Meg,
An Bob ur liddle popput,
An ‘gun to shuck my frock about,
An cal’d me ol’ Jan Scupput.
105 Jigger, I wud’nt stan all dis,
An so I ‘gun to tell um
If dey did’nt shet der nabble-traps
My liddle swish shud fell um.
106 But on dey went, I rais’d my swish,
To hit won on de back,
He dodg’d jes den, an so de ene,
Went thro’ de winder smack !
107 Out cum de man, an ‘gun to storm.
An ketch’d holt av ma collar,
“Ya bumpkin, ya shall pay a crown,”
De boys dey ‘gun to holler.
108 Long cum a man, was dress’d in blue,
Dey call’d un Muster Pleece,
He fix’d fast an me :- Den I ax’d
Wat bis’ness ’twas ov he’s ?
109 So I ge him a clumsy thump,
Fer I was getten crass,
He ge my airm a sudden gudge,
An broke another glass.
110 Wud dat he hollor’d out so loud,
An long did cum another
Drest jes fer all de world loike him,
I reckon ’twas he’s brother.
111 I sed ya cowards, two to won
Dat never can be fair,
Dey sed, an told de shopman too,
Dey’d ha me to de Mayor !
112 I in de scuffle lost ma hat,
De boys tore dat to pieces ;
Dey chain’d ma hans an I was fos’d
To goo wud dese two pleeces.
113 I was as mad as enny cat,
How Sal did bellur sure,
De Barber frighten’d, run away,
An I see’d him no more !
114 De people all did stare an scrouge,
As thick as enny fair ;
Dey brung me to a gurt fine house,
An dere set Muster Mayor.
115 Wud gurt long wig, an jackut on,
He look’d most wond’rous wise,
Wud dat de shopkipper did ‘gin
To tell sich monstus lies.
116 He sed I had his winder broke,
An den he sed as how
I brung a pack o’ noisy brats,
An ‘gun kick up a row !
117 I told um ’twas a plaguy lie,
Sal sed if dey wud sen
Fer Squyer Brown ov Govs’nor Square,
Dat he wud be ma fren.
118 Dey sent, an puffin out ov breath,
Along cum Squyer Brown,
He sed I ment no hort, an was
“A simple country clown.”
119 So arter dun-a-much more glib,
Dey did agree at lass,
Dat I shud pay ten shillens down,
Fer braaken ov de glass.
120 I paid de brads, an turnen roun,
I thaut to cum away,
“No no,” dey sed “ya luckless lad,
“Ya’ve twenty more to pay !
121 Fer what ? I ax’d, dey sed “fer cost,”
(Dat I cud never know,)
So I dubb’d down de stuff ya see,
An den dey let ma goo.
122 I growl’ d, but not a single word
Ov all dat I cud say,
Wud dey attend : so nerd crass.
At lass I cum away.
123 If dis be Lunnun, now thinks I,
I’ll soon be bodgen home,
I told our Sal an Squyer too,
I wish’d I’d never cum
124 She sed uf I’d goo back ud ur,
She’d ge me a new hat,
But dash ma wig, I’d no more peace,
In Lunnun arter dat.
125 An so nix mornen up I scratch’d,
We buss’d an seel giid bye,
I cum away tarnashun crass,
But Sally pip’d ur eye.
126 Ma bag was gran nigh empty too,
An dat ya know is bad,
Fer ninepence now, to tell de truth,
Was all de brass I had.
127 So all dat dee I push’d along,
As fast as I was able,
Huppin when nite did cum, to git
A lodgen in a stable.
128 But plague a-bit, (as Mother says,)
When money’s gone, ya may
Goo taak a rup an hang yurself ;
So I creep’d in sum hay.
129 ‘Twas undernead a stack so cold,
It rain’d an wet me thro’
How I did shiver all de nite,
An din’t know what to do.
130 By mornin lite a bayly cum,
An swore, an ‘gun to swagger ;
He jowter’d at me loike a dog,
An sed I was a begger.
131 An den a tejus crass ol’ dame
Sung out so loud an clear,
“Ya Begger fellur get ya gone,
“Ya hav no bis’ness here !”
132 She’d not a tooth in all ur head,
But she had got a tongue ;
Dat loike de clapper ov a bell,
All roun an roun it swung !
133 “Ya rogue” says she, an rais’d ur broom,
It was’nt many wicks,
Sence ya did rob ma roosten house,
An car away ma chicks.”
134 “I rob yur roost ! dat can’t be rite
I rob ya ! when an how ?
Don’t talk too fast ol’ dame, says I
I ne’er was here till now.”
135 Afore I’d time to turn me roun,
Or ‘nother word had sed,
Ur broom cum down wud sich a whop,
Dat gran nigh broke ma head !
136 Dat rais’d ma wool an turnen roun,
I thought to fix de hag,
Jes den de bayly’s dog jump’d up,
An ketch’d me by de leg !
137 He tore ma frock an breeches too,
An made me jump an roar,
Says I, “ol’ boy I’ll taak good care,
Dat you shall bite no more.”
138 I aim’d ma swish an levell’d well,
To polt un on de head,
I ge him sich a clumsy clout,
An down I fetch’d un dead !
139 ‘Twas jest agin a gurt wide pon,
Where hosses us’d to drink,
An dere de bayly jawen stood,
Upon de very brink.
140 So lion-loike to knock me down,
Was now he’s full intent ;
I dodg’d aside an headlong plump,
Into depon he went !
141 O’er nick an shoulders, head an heels,
He got a miornin’s dip,
Den out he scratch’d as drainin wet,
As enny new wash’d ship.
142 Bayly he bawl’d an dame she squall’d,
“We’ll send ya off to jail!”
Well, well, thought I I’d better try
To look ye up Lig Bail !
143 De Dog was dead – de Bayle wet –
De Dame too old to run,
An as I shuffled off, thinks I,
Why dis is middlen fun.
144 De Dog – de Bayly – an de Dame,
I sarv’d um out all three,
An sarv’d um rite – fer what had dey
To do wud jawen me ?
145 Wud shiv’ring lims, an hongry gut,
Rite forrud den I set,
But very sautly I got on,
I was so mortal wet.
146 De win did blow, de rain did fall,
My toe did ring full sore,
I thaut I never shud return
To see my Mother more.
147 As luck did goo dat very dee,
I lit wud ol’ Tom Styles ;
He took me up into his cart,
An car’d me many miles.
148 A pint o’ beer I ge to him,
As from de cart I jump’d,
Paid de las tuppence I had got,
An den I was jes stump’d.
149 So I got home dat self same nite,
Which Mother star’d to see,
I told ur how it was ud Sal,
An how it was ud me.
150 I sed I’d bin to Lunnun wonce,
But I’d goo dere no more,
Fer I cum back a bigger fool,
Dan I had bin afore !
151 But Mother never sim’d to mind,
Tho’ all ma brads be gone,
Yet arter all ’tis very true
I han’t bin dere fer naun.
152 Fer I have larnt a thing or two,
From what I now have sin,
An wise anuf I’m sarten sure
Never to goo agin !
As far as I know, this text is in the public domain.
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