Part 7 (2/2)
Florence Tweddell
I went last week to Stowslay(1) Fair, My sweetheart for to see; She promis'd she would meet me there- Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
I rigg'd misel' all i' my best, As fine as fine could be; An' little thowt how things would to'n(2); Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
I walk'd to t' toon, an' bowt a cane, To cut a dash, ye see; An' how I swagger'd up an' doon!
Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
I thowt, if n.o.bbut Poll would come, How happy we sud be!
I'd treat her into t' penny show, Bud dean't mak gam o' me : Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
At last I saw her coomin' in; Bud what else did I see?
Jack Hodge was walkin' biv her saade!
Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
Stright up I went, an' ”Poll!” says I, ”I's waiting, la.s.s, for thee!”
”Then thoo mun wait!” was all she said, Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
She teak Jack's airm, an' there I stead Quite flabbergash'd, ye see: I thowt I sud hav dropt to t' grund, Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
Poor Nancy Green com seaglin'(3) up, ”What's matter, d.i.c.k?” says she: ”Jack Hodge is off wi' Poll!” says I, Bud dean't mak gam o' me: Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
”Why, niver maand her; let her gan ; She's better gean!” said she: Bud I thowt nut; an' then I cried, Bud dean't mak gam o' me : Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
I's n.o.bbut a poor country lad At's lost my heart, ye see: I'll gan nea mair to t' Pomesun Fair,(4) Sea dean't mak gam o' me : Oh, dean't mak gam o' me!
1. Stokesley. 2. Turn out. 3. Sauntering.
4. The fair held at Stokesley on the Sat.u.r.day before Palm Sunday
Coom, stop at yam to-neet Bob
Florence Tweddell
”Coom, stop at yam(1) to-neet, Bob, Dean't gan oot onnywhere: Thoo gets thisel t' leeast vex'd, lad, When thou sits i' t' awd airm-chair.
”There's Keat an' d.i.c.k beath want thee To stop an' tell a teale: Tak little Keatie o' thy knee, An' d.i.c.k 'll sit on t' steal.
”Let's have a happy neet, Bob, Tell all t' teales thoo can tell; For givin' pleeasure to the bairns Will dea thee good thisel.
”I knaw it's sea wi' me, Bob, For oft when I've been sad, I've laik'd an' laugh'd wi' them, mon, Untel my heart's felt glad.
”An' sing that laatle sang, Bob, Thoo used to sing to me, When oft we sat at t' river saade, Under t' awd willow tree.
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