lik' a slinken hound,
Or rollen lik' a vleece along the ground.
An' woonce, when gramfer wi' his wold grey meaere
Wer riden down the leaene vrom Shroton feaeir,
It roll'd so big's a pack ov wool across
The road just under en, an' leaem'd his hoss.

DICK.

Aye; did ye ever hear--vo'k zaid 'twer true--
O' what bevell Jack Hine zome years agoo?
Woone vrosty night, d'ye know, at Chris'mas tide,
Jack, an' another chap or two bezide,
'D a-been out, zomewhere up at tother end
O' parish, to a naighbour's house to spend
A merry hour, an' mid a-took a cup
Or two o' eaele a-keepen Chris'mas up;
Zoo I do lot 'twer leaete avore the peaerty
'D a-burnt their bron out; I do lot, avore
They thought o' turnen out o' door
'Twer mornen, vor their friendship then wer hearty.
Well; clwose ageaen the vootpath that do leaed
Vrom higher parish over withy-meaed,
There's still a hollow, you do know: they tried there,
In former times, to meaeke a cattle-pit,
But gie'd it up, because they coulden get
The water any time to bide there.
Zoo when the merry fellows got
Just overright theaese lwonesome spot,
Jack zeed a girt big house-dog wi' a collar,
A-stannen down in thik there hollor.
Lo'k there, he zaid, there's zome girt dog a-prowlen:
I'll just goo down an' gi'e'n a goodish lick
Or two wi' theaese here groun'-ash stick,
An' zend the shaggy rascal hwome a-howlen.
Zoo there he run, an' gi'ed en a good whack
Wi' his girt ashen stick a-thirt his back;
An', all at woonce, his stick split right all down
In vower pieces; an' the pieces vled
Out ov his hand all up above his head,
An' pitch'd in vower corners o' the groun'.
An' then he velt his han' get all so num',
He coulden veel a vinger or a thum';
An' after that his eaerm begun to zwell,
An' in the night a-bed he vound
The skin o't peelen off all round.
'Twer near a month avore he got it well.

JEM.

That wer vor hetten [=o]'n. He should a let en
Alwone d'ye zee: 'twer wicked vor to het en.

SUNDRY PIECES.

A ZONG.

O Jenny, don't sobby! vor I shall be true;
Noo might under heaven shall peaert me vrom you.
My heart will be cwold, Jenny, when I do slight
The zwell o' thy bosom, thy eyes' sparklen light.

My kinsvo'k would fain zee me teaeke vor my meaete
A maid that ha' wealth, but a maid I should heaete;
But I'd sooner leaebour wi' thee vor my bride,
T