Thar was plenty o' good iron pans,
An' pigs at wad fill all t' deale's hulls(7);
Thar was baskets, an skeps, an' tin cans,
An' bowls, an' wood thivles for gulls.(8)
"Thar was plenty of all maks(9) o' meat,
An' plenty of all sworts o' drink,
An' t' lasses gat monny a treat,
For t' gruvers(10) war all full o' chink.
I cowp'd(11) my black hat for a white un,
Lile Jonas had varra cheap cleath;
Jem Peacock an' Tom talk'd o' feightin',
But Gudgeon Jem Puke lick'd 'em beath.
"Thar was dancin' an' feightin' for ever,
Will Wade said at he was quite griev'd;
An' Pedlety tell'd 'em he'd never
Forgit 'em as lang as he leev'd.
They knock'd yan another about,
Just warse than a sham to be seen,
Charlie Will look'd as white as a clout,
Kit Puke gat a pair o' black een.
"I spied our awd lass in a newk,
Drinkin' shrub wi' grim Freesteane, fond lad;
I gav her a varra grow(12) leuk;
O, connies,(13) but I was just mad.
Sea I went to John Whaites's to drink,
Whar I war'd(14) twea an' seempence i' gin;
I knaw not what follow'd, but think
I paddl'd through t' muck thick an' thin.
"For to-day, when I gat out o' bed,
My cleathes were all sullied sea sar,
Our Peggy and all our fwoak said
To Reeth Fair I sud never gang mar.
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