Jean ax'd what ribbon she should wear
'Ithin her bonnet to the feaeir?
She had woone white, a-gi'ed her when
She stood at Meaery's chrissenen;
She had woone brown, she had woone red,
A keepseaeke vrom her brother dead,
That she did like to wear, to goo
To zee his greaeve below the yew.

She had woone green among her stock,
That I'd a-bought to match her frock;
She had woone blue to match her eyes,
The colour o' the zummer skies,
An' thik, though I do like the rest,
Is he that I do like the best,
Because she had en in her heaeir
When vu'st I walk'd wi' her at feaeir.

The brown, I zaid, would do to deck
Thy heaeir; the white would match thy neck;
The red would meaeke thy red cheaek wan
A-thinken o' the gi'er gone;
The green would show thee to be true;
But still I'd sooner zee the blue,
Because 'twer he that deck'd thy heaeir
When vu'st I walk'd wi' thee at feaeir.

Zoo, when she had en on, I took
Her han' 'ithin my elbow's crook,
An' off we went athirt the weir
An' up the meaed toward the feaeir;
The while her mother, at the geaete,
Call'd out an' bid her not stay leaete,
An' she, a-smilen wi' her bow
O' blue, look'd roun' and nodded, _No_.

[Gothic: Eclogue.]

THE 'LOTMENTS.

_John and Richard._

JOHN.

Zoo you be in your groun' then, I do zee,
A-worken and a-zingen lik' a bee.
How do it answer? what d'ye think about it?
D'ye think 'tis better wi' it than without it?
A-recknen rent, an' time, an' zeed to stock it,
D'ye think that you be any thing in pocket?

RICHARD.

O', 'tis a goodish help to woone, I'm sure o't.
If I had not a-got it, my poor bwones
Would now ha' eaech'd a-cracken stwones
Upon the road; I wish I had zome mwore o't.

JOHN.

I wish the girt woones had a-got the greaece
To let out land lik' this in ouer pleaece;
But I do fear there'll never be nwone vor us,
An' I can't tell whatever we shall do:
We be a-most starven, an' we'd goo
To 'merica, if we'd enough to car us.

RICHARD.

Why 'twer the squire, good now! a worthy man,
That vu'st brought into ouer pleaece the plan,
He zaid he'd let a vew odd eaecres
O' land to us poor leaeb'ren men;
An', faith, he had enough o' teaekers
Vor that, an' twice so much ageaen.
Zoo I took zome here, near my hovel,
To exercise my speaede an' shovel;
An' what wi' dungen, diggen up, an' zeeden,
A-thin