Miss Walsh an' Miss Roddy an' another young body,
Bethowt 'em 'at it wod be t'best,
To tak a fine boat an' just hev a float
Dahn the lake as far as Dove's Nest.

Says Miss Nelly Holmes, "as I've left off mi looms
I'll show at I'm summat better;
An' I'll go ta Low Wood, it might do ma good,
An' sport both on t'land an' on t'watter."

Hahsumivver, Miss Martha Smith fra Utley, an owd maid, an' Jenny Hodgson,
an' Ann Shack, an' abaght nineteen other owd maids, bethowt 'em they'd
hev some teah, for there wor a paper stuck i' ivvery window wi' "Hot
water sold here," as an inscription. So they went in an' bargain'd for
it, an' ax'd what it wor a piece fer hot waiter. "Tuppence a piece," says
t'Missis. "Tuppence a piece!" exclaim'd t'dollop of 'em, "we can get it
at owd Matty Wreet's fer a penny a week. It's a burning shame, but let's
hev a bucket
a piece."

So thirteen cups a piece they tuke,
An' they were noan ta blame,
Fer weel shoo knew did Hannah Shack,
They'd hev to pay the same.

An' my word, t'gert foak wor capp'd when they saw us; these wor some
squintin' throo glasses, yu mind, an' especially when t'band started a
playin'. In fact, they wor fair charm'd wi' t'Turkey Mill Banders, an' a
deal o' t'young ladies an' gentlemen admired t'conductor, fer his arm
went just like a hand-loom weiver swingin' his pickin' stick.

Fer monny a noble lord did say,
An' so did monny a heiress,
"Can this be Julien's Band, I pray,
That late we've seen in Paris.

"Upon my word, I think it is
That famous French instructor,
Mon Dieu! when I behold his phiz,
It is the great conductor."

But they wor t'moast capped wi' t'Fife an' Drum Band ov owt. They tuke
'em to be a band of Esquimaux at hed just landed i' England.
Hahsumivver, we followed after, marchin' ta t'tune 'at t'owd kah deed on,
i' droves like a squad o' pie-bald geese, wal we com ta t'watter edge,
an' then--

To Miller's Brah, an' Calf-garth Woods,
Some on 'em tuke ther route,
Some sailed across to Castle Wray,
An' some went whear they thowt.

Some tuke a yacht to Newby Brig,
To brave both wind an' tide,
Wal others sailed around Belle Isle,
An' some to Ambleside.

I' landin' at Ambleside, Joe o' Raygill's bethowt him he'd hev a glass o'
ale, an' bethegs he'd t'misfortun to leave three gert curnberry pasties
i' t'hotel, an' didn't bethink him wal he'd getten on ta t'top of a big
hill, but when he bethowt him, m