sures banish pain."
Noa fact'ry bell shall greet thi ear,
I' that sweet home ov love;
An' those 'at scorn thi sufferins here
May envy thee above.
Poor lassie wan, &c.

Th' First o'th Sooart

Aw heeard a funny tale last neet--
Aw could'nt howd fro' laffin--
'Twor at th' Bull's Heead we chonced to meet,
An' spent an haar i' chaffin.
Some sang a song, some cracked a joak,
An' all seem'd full o' larkin;
An' th' raam war blue wi' bacca smook,
An' ivery e'e'd a spark in.

Long Joa 'at comes thro th' Jumples cluff,
Wor gettin rayther mazy;
An' Warkus Ned had supped enuff
To turn they're Betty crazy;--
An Bob at lives at th' Bogeggs farm,
Wi' Nan throo th' Buttress Bottom,
Wor treating her to summat wanm,
(It's just his way,--"odd drot em!")

An' Jack o'th' Slade wor theear as weel,
An' Joa o' Abe's throo Waerley;
An' Lijah off o'th' Lavver Hill,
Wor passing th' ale raand rarely.--
Throo raand and square they seem'd to meet,
To hear or tell a stoory;
But th' gem o' all aw heard last neet
Wor one bi Dooad o'th' gloory.

He bet his booits 'at it wor true,
An' all seem'd to believe him;
Tho' if he'd lost he need'nt rue--
But 't wodn't ha done to grieve him
His uncle lived i' Pudsey taan,
An' practised local praichin;
An' if he 're lucky, he wor baan
To start a schooil for taichin.

But he wor takken varry ill;
He felt his time wor comin:
(They say he brought it on hissel
Wi' studdyin his summin.)
He call'd his wife an' neighbors in
To hear his deein sarmon,
An' tell'd 'em if they liv'd i' sin
Ther lot ud be a warm en.

Then turin raand unto his wife,
Said--"Mal, tha knows, owd craytur,
If awd been bless'd wi' longer life,
Aw might ha' left things straighter.
Joa Sooitill owes me eighteen pence--
Aw lent it him last lovefeast."
Says Mal--"He has'nt lost his sense--
Thank God for that at least!"

"An Ben o'th' top o'th' bank tha knows,
We owe him one paand ten.".--
"Just hark!" says Mally, "there he goas!
He's ramellin agean!
Dooant tak a bit o' noatice, fowk!
Yo see, poor thing, he's ravin!
It cuts me up to hear sich talk--
He spent his life i' savin!

"An, Mally, lass," he said agean,
"Tak heed o' my direction:
Th' schooil owes us hauf a craan--aw mean
My share o'th' last collection.--
Tha'll see to that, an have what's fair
When my poor life is past."--
Says Mally, "listen, aw declare,
He's sensible to th' last."

He shut his een an' sank to rest--
Deeath seldom claime