n thi belly aw'll patch up thi clooas,
Then aw'll send thi hooam daycent an cleean tha'll see.

Nah, what are ta dooin wi' th' pussy cat, pray?
If tha'll leeav it alooan it'll mell nooan o' thee,
Put th' mustard spooin daan! Does ta hear what aw say!
Let goa that cat tail! Ha tha aggravates me!

Tha mooant dip thi finger i'th' traitle pot, doy,
(Tho' aw reckon tha follers th' example tha's set,)
Mothers, nah days, dooan't know ha to train childer, joy,
But tha'll heed what thi gronny says,--willn't ta, pet?

A'a, dear! nah tha's upset thi basin o' stew!
All ovver thisen an mi cleean scarrd flooar:--
Tha clumsy young imp; what next will ta do?
Tha'd wear aght job's patience, an twice as mich mooar!

Hold thi din! or aw'll gie thi a taste o' that strap!
Tha maks it noa better wi' yellin like that!
Come, whisht nah,--'twor nobbut a little mishap;--
Nah, whisht,--an tha'll see ha we'll leather yond cat.

Nah, dooan't touch mi thimel or needle an threead;
Sit daan like a gooid little child as tha art;
Wol aw wipe up this mess, an side th' butter an breead,
Then aw'll gie thi a penny to buy thi a tart.

For tha puts me i' mind ov a time long ago,
When thi father wor just sich a jockey as thee;
An tho' aw'm a widdy, an poor as a crow,
Ther'll be allus a bite an a sup for thee.

Tak thi booits off that fender! Tha's made it fair black;
Just see ha tha's scratched it! Aw'm sewer it's a sin!
Jump into theas clooas an fly hooam in a crack,
Or aw'll braik ivvery booan 'at tha has i' thi skin!

An stop hooam, until tha knows ha to behave,
Tha'd worrit my life aght i' less nor a wick!
Tell thi mother aw'm net gooin to be just a slave
To a taistrel like thee! soa nah, off tha gooas--Quick!

Horton Tide.

Wor yo ivver at Horton Tide?
It wor thear 'at aw won mi bride;
An the joy o' mi life,
Is mi dear little wife,
An we've three little childer beside.

Aw wor donn'd in a new suit o'clooas,
A cigar wor stuck under mi nooas,
Aw set aght for a spree,
An some frolics to see,
Full o' fun throo mi heead to mi tooas.

Aw met Lijah an Amos, an Bill,
An ov coorse wi' each one aw'd a gill;
Till aw felt rayther mazy,
But net at all crazy,
For aw didn't goa in for mi fill.

As a lad aw'd been bashful an shy,
An aw blushed if a woman went by,
But this day bi gooid luck,
Aw felt chock full o' pluck,
Soa to leet on aw sattled to try.

As aw