ollow'd him far enuff for
once, an' yo can form yor own opinion ov what sooart ov a chap he wor,
but altho we're inclined to laugh at sich a chap, yet they've happen as
mich wisdom as some 'at think they've moor; an' a chap's moor to be
envied nor pitied 'at can console hissen wi' thinkin 'at haiver bad
things are, 'at they mud hai been war.

Ha a Dead Donkey Towt a Lesson.

Respectfully dedicated to my ill-used long-eared friend,

Neddy Bray

Some fowk choose one thing, some another,
To grace ther prose or rhyme;
Some sneerin say 'at tha'lot my brother,
Maks me choose thee for mine;
Well, let 'em sneer owd Neddy lad,
Or laff at my selection,
Who fail to see ther type i' thee
Are void o' mich perception.--
Ther's things more stupid nor an ass,
An things more badly treated,
Tho' we ait beef, an' tha aits grass,
May be we're just related.
Throo toil an' trouble on tha jogs,
An' then like ony sinner,
Tha dees, an' finds a meal for th' dogs;--
We furnish th' worms ther dinner.

Deemas an' 'Becka used to keep th "Cock an' Bottle," i' awr street.
They'd lived thear iver sin th' haase wor built, an' won iverybody's
gooid word, at worn't particlar abaght a sup o' drink. One day they sent
aght invitashuns to all ther neighbors an' friends to come to a tea
drinkin. Niver mind if ther wornt a rumpus i' that district! Th' chaps
winked when they met one another, an' said "Aw reckon tha'll be at yond
doo?" "Aw mean to be nowt else," they'd reply; an' away they'd trudge i'
joyful anticipation of a reight spree!

But th' women! Hi! that's it! It's th' women 'ats th' life an' soul ov a
jollificashun yet. They wor buzzin aght o' one door into another just
like a lot o' bees, to see what soa an soa wor gooin in. "What sooart ov
a bonnet art ta baan in Zantippa?" said Susan Stooanthrow; (or rayther
aw should, say, Miss Stooanthrow, for shoo reckoned hersen th' lady o'th
ginnel).

"Well, aw've nut made up mi mind yet," shoo says; "but aw have thowt aw
should goa, aw hardly know ha'; but what does ta think o' gooin in?"

"Well, aw suppooas it's ta be a varry spicy affair, soa aw have thowt aw
should goa i' full dress. Yo' see, being a single woman, an' rayther a
stylish shape, aw think it 'ud just suit me. What do yo' think?"

"Just the varry ticket, lass! Tha' couldn't do better! For, as aw've
mony a time said to Betty Wagstang, ther's noabody c