i' Batley Carr
Are all booath dumb an blind?
Shoo's wed a steady, honest chap,
An shoo's booath gooid an fair,
Ther's net another fit to swap,--
They mak a gradely pair."

"'Man worn't made to live alooan,'
Tha tell'd me that thisen:--
Tha needn't shak thi heead an grooan;--
Tha's happen changed sin then.
But if ther ivver wor a crank,
It's been my luck to see,
It wor my childer's father
When he furst coom coortin me."

"But rest content, its all for th' best;--
An then tha must ha known,--
Shoo thowt it time at shoo possest
A nice hooam ov her own."
"Well--may they prosper! That's my prayer,--
They'st nivver want a friend
Wol aw'm alive,--but aw'st beware,
An watch theas younger end."

All We Had.

It worn't for her winnin ways,
Nor for her bonny face
But shoo wor th' only lass we had,
An that quite alters th' case.

We'd two fine lads as yo need see,
An' weel we love 'em still;
But shoo war th' only lass we had,
An' we could spare her ill.

We call'd her bi mi mother's name,
It saanded sweet to me;
We little thowt ha varry sooin
Awr pet wod have to dee.

Aw used to watch her ivery day,
Just like a oppenin bud;
An' if aw couldn't see her change,
Aw fancied' at aw could.

Throo morn to neet her little tongue
Wor allus on a stir;
Awve heeard a deeal o' childer lisp,
But nooan at lispt like her.

Sho used to play all sooarts o' tricks,
'At childer shouldn't play;
But then, they wor soa nicely done,
We let her have her way.

But bit bi bit her spirits fell,
Her face grew pale an' thin;
For all her little fav'rite toys
Shoo didn't care a pin.

Aw saw th' old wimmin shak ther heeads,
Wi monny a doleful nod;
Aw knew they thowt shoo'd goa, but still
Aw couldn't think shoo wod.

Day after day my wife an' me,
Bent o'er that suff'rin child,
Shoo luk'd at mammy, an' at me,
Then shut her een an' smiled.

At last her spirit pass'd away;
Her once breet een wor dim;
Shoo'd heeard her Maker whisper 'come,'
An' hurried off to Him.

Fowk tell'd us t'wor a sin to grieve,
For God's will must be best;
But when yo've lost a child yo've loved,
It puts yor Faith to th' test.

We pick'd a little bit o' graand,
Whear grass and daisies grew,
An' trees wi spreeadin boughs aboon
Ther solemn shadows threw.

We saw her laid to rest, within
That deep grave newly made;
Wol th' sexton let a