An’ Fanny’s last young teen begun,
Poor maïd, wi’ thik day’s risèn zun,
An’ we all wish’d her many mwore
Long years wi’ happiness in store;
An’ as she went an’ stood avore
The vier, by her father’s zide,
Her mother dropp’d a tear o’ pride
While music wer a-soundèn.
An’ then we did all kinds o’ tricks
Wi’ han’kerchiefs, an’ strings, an’ sticks:
An’ woone did try to overmatch
Another wi’ zome cunnèn catch,
While tothers slyly tried to hatch
Zome geäme; but yet, by chap an’ maïd,
The dancèn wer the mwost injaÿ’d,
While music wer a-soundèn.
The briskest chap ov all the lot
Wer Tom, that danc’d hizzelf so hot,
He doff’d his cwoat an’ jump’d about,
Wi’ girt new shirt-sleeves all a-strout,
Among the maïdens screamèn out,
A-thinkèn, wi’ his strides an’ stamps,
He’d squot their veet wi’ his girt clamps,
While music wer a-soundèn.
Then up jump’d uncle vrom his chair,
An’ pull’d out aunt to meäke a peäir;
An’ off he zet upon his tooe.
So light’s the best that beät a shoe,
Wi’ aunt a-crièn “Let me goo:”
While all ov us did laugh so loud,
We drown’d the tuèn o’ the croud,
While music wer a-soundèn.
A-comèn out o’ passage, Nan,