off walken in the road,
When night's a-zetten in, O.

But now, while barley by the road
Do hang upon the bough, O,
A-pull'd by branches off the lwoad
A-riden hwome to mow, O;
While spiders roun' the flower-stalks
Ha' cobwebs yet to spin, O,
We'll cool ourzelves in out-door walks,
When night's a-zetten in, O.

While down at vword the brook so small,
That leaetely wer so high, O,
Wi' little tinklen sounds do vall
In roun' the stwones half dry, O;
While twilight ha' sich air in store,
To cool our zunburnt skin, O,
We'll have a ramble out o' door,
When night's a-zetten in, O.

THE WEATHER-BEATEN TREE.

The woaken tree, a-beaet at night
By stormy winds wi' all their spite,
Mid toss his lim's, an' ply, an' mwoan,
Wi' unknown struggles all alwone;
An' when the day do show his head,
A-stripp'd by winds at last a-laid,
How vew mid think that didden zee,
How night-time had a-tried thik tree.

An' happy vo'k do seldom know
How hard our unknown storms do blow,
The while our heads do slowly bend
Below the trials God do zend,
Like shiv'ren bennets, beaere to all
The dreven winds o' dark'nen fall.
An' zoo in tryen hardships we
Be lik' the weather beaeten tree.

But He will never meaeke our sheaere
O' sorrow mwore than we can bear,
But meaeke us zee, if 'tis His will,
That He can bring us good vrom ill;
As after winter He do bring,
In His good time, the zunny spring,
An' leaves, an' young vo'k vull o' glee
A-dancen roun' the woaken tree.

True love's the ivy that do twine
Unwith'ren roun' his mossy rine,
When winter's zickly zun do sheen
Upon its leaves o' glossy green,
So patiently a-holden vast
Till storms an' cwold be all a-past,
An' only liven vor to be
A-meaeted to the woaken tree.

SHRODON FEAeIR.

_The vu'st Peaert._

An' zoo's the day wer warm an' bright,
An' nar a cloud wer up in zight,
We wheedled father vor the meaere
An' cart, to goo to Shrodon feaeir.
An' Poll an' Nan run off up stairs,
To shift their things, as wild as heaeres;
An' pull'd out, each o'm vrom her box,
Their snow-white leaece an' newest frocks,
An' put their bonnets on, a-lined
Wi' blue, an' sashes tied behind;
An' turn'd avore the glass their feaece
An' back, to zee their things in pleaece;
While Dick an' I did brush our hats
An' cwoats, an' cleaen ourzelves lik