n stopt,
He varry near wor floored.

For wol thrang workin wi' her yure,
He'd been soa taen wi' th' case,
He'd nivver gein a thowt befooar,
Abaat her neck an face.
But nah he saw his sad mistak,
Yet net a word he sed;
Her skin wor all a deep blue black,
Her yure, a dark braan red.

He gate her hooam sooin as he could,
Shoo slyly slipt up stairs;
An chuckled to think ha shoo should
Tak all th' fowk unawares.
Shoo slept that neet just like a top,
Next morn shoo rose content,
Shoo rubb'd some tutty on her nop,
An then daan stairs shoo went.

All th' childer screamed as if they'd fits,--
Th' old fowk they stared like mad;--
"Nay, Sally! has ta lost thi wits?
Or has ta seen th' Old Lad?"
Shoo smil'd an sed, "Well, what's to do?"
"Gooid gracious! whear's ta been?
Thi face has turned a breet sky blue,
Thi yure's a bottle green!"

Shoo flew to th' lukkin glass to see,
An then her heart stood still;
"That villan sed 'he'd dee for me,'
Aw'll swing for him, aw will!"
An then shoo set her daan o'th flooar,
As if her heart wod braik;
An th' childer gethered raand to rooar,
But th' old fowk nivver spaik.

I' time her grief grew less, ov course,
Shoo raased hersen at last;
Shoo weshed, an swill'd, but things lukt worse,
For th' color still proved fast.
They sent a bobby after th' chap,
He browt him in a crack;
Says he, "It's been a slight mishap,
Aw've made a small mistak.

But just to prove aw meant noa ill,
Mi offer, friends, is this;
If shoo'll consent to say 'I will,'
Aw'll tak her as shoo is.
Tho' shoo luks black befooar we're wed,
That's sewer to wear away;
Aw'd like to own her yure soa red,
Until time turns it grey."

Says shoo, "awm feeard tha nobbut mocks,
Tha'rt strivin to misleead."
"Nay lass," he sed, "aw've turned thy locks,
But tha's fair turned my heead."
"Aw think yo'd better far agree,"
Sed th' old fowk in a breeath;
"Will ta ha me?" "Will ta ha me?"
"An nah we'll stick till deeath."

Sooin after that th' law made 'em one,
An sin that time awm sewer;
He ne'er regretted th' job he'd done,
Nor shoo her ruddy yure.
An when fowk ax'd her ha to get
Sich joy as hers, shoo sed,
"If anxious for some gradely wit,
Just goa an boil thi heead."

Try a Smile.

This world's full o' trubbles fowk say, but aw daat it,
Yo'll find as mich pleasure as pain;
Some grummel at times when they