THOMAS Good morn t'ye, John. How b'ye? how b'ye? Zoo you be gwaïn to market, I do zee. Why, you be quite a-lwoaded wi' your geese. JOHN Ees, Thomas, ees. Why, I'm a-gettèn rid ov ev'ry goose An' goslèn I've a-got: an' what is woose, I fear that I must zell my little cow. THOMAS How zoo, then, John? Why, what's the matter now? What, can't ye get along? B'ye run a-ground? An' can't paÿ twenty shillèns vor a pound? What, can't ye put a lwoaf on shelf? JOHN Ees, now; But I do fear I shan't 'ithout my cow. No; they do meän to teäke the moor in, I do hear, An' 'twill be soon begun upon; Zoo I must zell my bit o' stock to-year, Because they woon't have any groun' to run upon. THOMAS Why, what d'ye tell o'? I be very zorry To hear what they be gwaïn about; But yet I s'pose there'll be a 'lotment vor ye, When they do come to mark it out. JOHN No; not vor me, I fear. An' if there should, Why 'twoulden be so handy as 'tis now; Vor 'tis the common that do do me good, The run vor my vew geese, or vor my cow. THOMAS Ees, that's the job; why 'tis a handy thing To have a bit o' common, I do know, To put a little cow upon in Spring, The while woone's bit ov orcha'd grass do grow. JOHN Aye, that's the thing, you zee. Now I do mow My bit o' grass, an' meäke a little rick; An' in the zummer, while do grow, My cow do run in common vor to pick A bleäde or two o' grass, if she can vind em, Vor tother cattle don't leäve much behind em. Zoo in the evenèn, we do put a lock O' nice fresh grass avore the wicket; An' she do come at vive or zix o'clock, As constant as the zun, to pick it. An' then, bezides the cow, why we do let Our geese run out among the emmet hills; An' then when we do pluck em, we do get Vor zeäle zome veathers an' zome quills; An' in the winter we do fat em well, An' car em to the market vor to zell To gentlevo'ks, vor we don't oft avvword To put a goose a-top ov ouer bwoard; But we do get our feäst, – vor we be eäble To clap the giblets up a-top o' teäble. THOMAS An' I don't know o' many better things, Than geese's heads and gizzards, lags an' wings. JOHN An' then, when I ha' nothèn else to do, Why I can teäke my hook an' gloves, an' goo To cut a lot o' vuzz and briars Vor hetèn ovens, or vor lightèn viers. An' when the children be too young to eärn A penny, they can g'out in zunny weather, An' run about, an' get together A bag o' cow-dung vor to burn. THOMAS 'Tis handy to live near a common; But I've a-zeed, an' I've a-zaid, That if a poor man got a bit o' bread, They'll try to teäke it vrom en. But I wer twold back tother day, That they be got into a way O' lettèn bits o' groun' out to the poor. JOHN Well, I do hope 'tis true, I'm sure; An' I do hope that they will do it here, Or I must goo to workhouse, I do fear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KING DAVID by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE DANCE OF THE SEVIN DEIDLY SYNNIS by WILLIAM DUNBAR SONGS ON THE VOICES OF BIRDS; SEA-MEWS IN WINTER TIME by JEAN INGELOW SONNET: TO FANNY by JOHN KEATS EARLY DEATH AND FAME by MATTHEW ARNOLD |