it last;
But age an' care creep on us fast;
Then act az tha can luke at t'past
An' feel no shaam;
Then if tha'rt poor az sum ahtcast,
Tha'rt noan ta blame.

Doant sport abaht an' wagers bet,
But mind an' shun that foolish set
At cannut mak ther awn ta fet,
Though shaam to say it.
An' mind tha keeps fra bein' i' debt,
An' tha'll be reight.

Nah stick fast hod o' iron will;
Push boldly on an' feear no ill;
Keep Him i' veiw, whoa's mercies fill
The wurld sa wide.
No daht but His omnishent skill
Al be thi guide.

So Ned, mi lad, tak this advice,
Prove worthy o' yond lass's choice,
I' years ta cum tha may rejoice
Tha tuke her hand;
An' listened ta thi father's voice,
An' his command.

Th' Furst Pair o' Briches.

Aw remember the days o' mi bell-button jacket,
Wi' its little lappels hangin' down ower mi waist,
An' mi grand bellosed cap,--noan nicer I'll back it,--
Fer her at hed bowt it wur noan withaht taste;
Fer shoo wur mi mother an' I wur her darling,
An often shoo vowed it, an' stroked dahn mi hair,
An' shoo tuke ma to see her relashuns i' Harden
It furst Pair o' Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember the time when Aunt Betty an' Alice
Sent fer me up to lewk at mi cloas,
An aw wauked up as prahd as a Frenchman fra Calais,
Wi' mi tassel at t'side--i' mi jacket a rose.
Aw sooin saw mi uncles, both Johnny an' Willy,
They both gav me pennies, an' off aw did steer:
But aw heeard um say this, "He's a fine lad is Billy,"
It furst Pair o' Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember t' time at ahr Robin and Johnny
Wur keeping their hens an' ducks i' t' yard,
Tha wur gamecocks an' bantams, wi' toppins so bonny,
An' noan on um mine--aw thowt it wur hard.
But aw saved up mi pennies aw gat fer mail pickin',
An' sooin gat a shilling by saving it fair,
Aw then became maister at least o' wun chicken,
It furst Pair o' Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember wun Sabbath, an' t'sun it wor shining,
Aw went wi' mi father ta Hainworth ta sing;
An' t'stage wur hung raand wi' bottle-green lining;
And childer i' white made t' village ta ring.
We went ta owd Meshach's that day ta wur drinkin',
Though poor, tha wur plenty, an' summat ta spare;
Says Meshach, "That lad, Jim, is just thee, aw'm thinking,
It furst Pair o' Briches at ivver tha ware."

Now them wur the days o' grim boggards and witches,