Yorkshire Ditties, First Series

We'd a meetin at the schooil yesterneet,
An' Jimmy wor thear,--tha's seen Jim?
An' he hutch'd cloise to me in a bit,
To ax me for th' number o'th' hymn;
Aw thowt 't wor a gaumless trick,
For he heeard it geen aght th' same as me;
An' he just did th' same thing tother wick,--
It made fowk tak noatice, dos't see.
An' when aw wor gooin towards hooam
Aw heeard som'dy comin behund:
'Twor pitch dark, an' aw thowt if they coom,
Aw should varry near sink into th' graund.
Aw knew it wor Jim bi his traid,
An' aw tried to get aght ov his gate;
But a'a! tha minds, lass, aw wor flaid,
Aw wor niver i' sich en a state.
Then aw felt som'dy's arm raand my shawl,
An' aw said, "nah, leave loise or aw'll screeam!
Can't ta let daycent lasses alooan,
Consarn thi up! what does ta mean?"
But he stuck to mi arm like a leach,
An' he whispered a word i' mi ear;
It took booath my breeath an' my speech,
For aw'm varry sooin thrown aght o' gear.