ure
That theaesem men would gi'e me work to do
All drough the year, an' always pay me mwore
Than I'm a-eaernen now, I'd jein em too.
If I wer sure they'd bring down things so cheap,
That what mid buy a pound o' mutton now
Would buy the hinder quarters, or the sheep,
Or what wull buy a pig would buy a cow:
In short, if they could meaeke a shillen goo
In market just so vur as two,
Why then, d'ye know, I'd be their man;
But, hang it! I don't think they can.

TOM.

Why ees they can, though you don't know't,
An' theaesem men can meaeke it clear.
Why vu'st they'd zend up members ev'ry year
To Parli'ment, an' ev'ry man would vote;
Vor if a fellow midden be a squier,
He mid be just so fit to vote, an' goo
To meaeke the laws at Lon'on, too,
As many that do hold their noses higher.
Why shoulden fellows meaeke good laws an' speeches
A-dressed in fusti'n cwoats an' cord'roy breeches?
Or why should hooks an' shovels, zives an' axes,
Keep any man vrom voten o' the taxes?
An' when the poor've a-got a sheaere
In meaeken laws, they'll teaeke good ceaere
To meaeke some good woones vor the poor.
Do stan' by reason, John; because
The men that be to meaeke the laws,
Will meaeke em vor theirzelves, you mid be sure.

JOHN.

Ees, that they wull. The men that you mid trust
To help you, Tom, would help their own zelves vu'st.

TOM.

Aye, aye. But we would have a better plan
O' voten, than the woone we got. A man,
As things be now, d'ye know, can't goo an' vote
Ageaen another man, but he must know't.
We'll have a box an' balls, vor voten men
To pop their hands 'ithin, d'ye know; an' then,
If woone don't happen vor to lik' a man,
He'll drop a little black ball vrom his han',
An' zend en hwome ageaen. He woon't be led
To choose a man to teaeke away his bread.

JOHN.

But if a man you midden like to 'front,
Should chance to call upon ye, Tom, zome day,
An' ax ye vor your vote, what could ye zay?
Why if you woulden answer, or should grunt
Or bark, he'd know you'd meaen "I won't."
To promise woone a vote an' not to gi'e't,
Is but to be a liar an' a cheat.
An' then, bezides, when he did count the balls,
An' vind white promises a-turn'd half black;
Why then he'd think the voters all a pack
O' rogues together,--ev'ry woone o'm false.
An' if he had the power, very soon
Perhaps he'd vall upon em, ev'ry woone.
T