d daggers at one another for
makkin sich a din, an' then he went on to say, "Gentlemen, as aw'm a
stranger amang yo, ov coorse aw dooant know mich abaat yo, but aw should
be varry mich pleeased if one on yo wod oblige bi singing a song."

"Nah ther's a chonce for thee, Cocky," sed one.

"Tha knows aw connot sing," sed Cocky, "aw think Ike ud do better nor
me."

"Nay, aw can sing nooan," sed Ike, "aw niver sang owt i' mi life but'
Rock-a-boo-babby,' an' it's soa long sin aw've forgetten that, but
ther's old Mosslump thear, happen he'll give us one, we all know he can
sing." "Dooant thee pitch onto me," sed Mosslump, "it'll be time enuf
for thee to start o' orderin when we mak thi into th' cheerman, what
can't yo start wi' Standhen for, we know he can sing?"

"O, Standhen!" they sed, "we'd forgetten Standhen! He can give us a owd
Tory touch we know."

Up jumpt th' cheerman, an befoor Standhen had time to spaik he called
aght, "Mr. Standhen! We're all waitin for thy song, an as cheerman o'
this assembly aw expect thee to do what tha con to entertain this
compny, or otherwise aw shall vacate this cheer."

As all th' glasses wor beginnin to get low, they felt this to be an
appeal to ther inmost sowl, soa they all began, perswadin Standhen, an'
after a deeal to do he promised to try. "Aw know awst braik daan befoor
aw start," he sed. "Nay, tha'll have to start furst," sed one, "but
we'll excuse thi if tha does; if tha tries it'll show willin." After
coughin once an' suppin twice, he shut his e'en an' oppened his maath,
an' this is what coom aght:--

Thou grand old Church of England!
Though others raise their voice,
And try to stain thy spotless name,
Thou still shall be my choice;
Just as thou art, I love thee thus,
And freely I confess,
I'd have thee not one jot the more,
Nor yet one tittle less.

Those who would rob thee of thy rights,
And urge with specious tongue,
That theft by Act of Parliament
Can surely not be wrong.
I'd have them leave thy sheltering wing,
And nevermore to dare
To stand within thy courts of praise,
Or taint thy house of prayer.

Oh! dear old Church of England,
That points the way to Heaven!
Amid a sad, sad world of sin
The truly, only leaven.
We leave thee to our Father's care,
Who knows thy needs the best,
Convinced that He, by aid of thee,
Will leaven all the rest.

When