ooar by-an-bye.

Yo can't expect chaps who have wives,
An childer at's clammin i'th' cold,
To be patient an quiet all ther lives,
When they see others rollin i' gold.
When th' workers are beggin for jobs,
An th' helpless are starvin to deeath,
It's just abaat time some o'th' nobs
Wor reminded they dooant own all th' eearth.

If ther duties they still will neglect,
An ther pomps an ther pleasurs pursue,
They may find when they little expect,
'At they've getten thersen in a stew.
Yo may trample a worm wol it turns,--
An ther's danger i' starvin a rat;--
A man's passion inflamed wol it burns,
Is a danger mooar fearful nor that.

But why should ther be sich distress,
When ther's plenty for all an to spare?
Sewerly them at luck's blest can't do less
Nor to help starvin fowk wi' a share.
Rich harvests yo'll win from the seed
When theas welcome words fall on yor ear,--
"What yo did to th' leeast brother i' need,
Yo did unto Me;--Come in here."

Red Stockin.

Shoo wor shoeless, an shiverin, an weet,--
Her hair flyin tangled an wild:
Shoo'd just been browt in aght o'th street,
Wi drink an mud splashes defiled.
Th' poleece sargent stood waitin to hear
What charge agean her wod be made,
He'd scant pity for them they browt thear,
To be surly wor pairt ov his trade.
"What name?" an he put it i'th' book,--
An shoo hardly seemed able to stand;
As shoo tottered, he happened to luk
saw summat claspt in her hand.
"What's that? Bring it here right away!
You can't take that into your cell;"
"It's nothing." "Is that what you say?
Let me have it and then I can tell."
"Nay, nay! yo shall nivver tak this!
It's dearer nor life is to me!
Lock me up, if aw've done owt amiss,
But aw'll stick fast to this wol aw dee!"
"No nonsense!" he sed wi a frown,
An two officers speedily came;
Shoo seem'd to have soberer grown,
But shoo fowt like a fiend, just the same.
"Is it money or poison?" he sed,--
An unfolded it quickly to see;
When sum in at fell aght,--soft an red,
An it rested across ov his knee.
'Twor a wee babby's stockin,--just one,
But his hard face grew gentle and mild,
As he sed in his kindliest tone,
"This stockin was worn by your child?"
"Yes, sir,--an its all at aw have
To remind me ov when aw wor pure,
For mi husband an child are i'th' grave;--
Yo'll net tak it throo me, aw'm sewer!"
"No, not for the world would I t