e a
little doggerel-rhyme to please those who came to the classes. One of my
earliest efforts was a few verses anent my first pair of britches, which
I, in common, I suppose, with other juveniles, regarded with a great
amount of pleasure and pride. I must apologise for introducing three
verses of the piece I wrote and styled

"MY FIRST PAIR O' BRITCHES"

Aw remember the days o' mi bell-button jacket,
Wi' its little lappels hangin' dahn ower mi waist;
And mi grand bellosed cap--noan nicer, I'll back it--
Fer her et hed bowt it wor noan without taste;
Fer shoo wor mi mother, an' I wor her darlin',
And offen sho vowed it, an' stroked dahn mi' hair;
An' sho tuke me ta see her relations i' Harden,
I't' first pair o' britches 'at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember the time when Aunt Betty an' Alice
Sent fer me up ta lewk at mi clooas,
An' aw walked up as prahd as a Frenchman fra Calais,
Wi' mi tassel at side, i' mi jacket a rose,
Aw sooin saw mi uncles, both Johnny and Willy,
They both gav' me pennies an' off aw did steer;
But aw heeard 'em say this, "He's a fine lad is Billy,
I't' first pair o' britches 'at ivver he ware."

Aw remember one Sabbath, an't' sun it wor shinin',
Aw went wi mi father ta Hainworth ta sing,
An't' stage wor hung raand wi' green cotton linin',
An't' childer i' white made t'village ta ring.
We went to old Mecheck's that day to wur drinkin',
Tho' poor ther were plenty, an' summat ta spare;
Says Mecheck, "That lad, Jim, is just thee awm thinkin',
I't' first pair o' britches 'at ivver tha ware."

CHAPTER II.

A ROMANTIC AND NOMADIC YOUTH

Anything that bordered on the romantic and nomadic style of life had an
especial fascination for me. Many a time and oft have I bestridden horses
that had been peacefully pasturing, and ridden them bare-back around the
fields, in a kind of Buffalo Bill style, you know. I got "nabbed"
occasionally, and then I was candidly told that if I continued "ta dew
sich a dangerous thing ony more, ah sud be sewer to catch it."

DIVERS PRANKS

Of course I had divers other pranks, as all boys have--albeit to the
anxiety and sorrow of many up-grown, and, therefore, unsympathising
persons. "Tolling" doors was another favourite occupation of mine.
Modern-time boys have not generally the same opportunities for "tolling"
as boys had in my time. Our folks provided an everlasting amount of
a