Where be ‘ee goin’ to, me ‘ansome?
Ted’n often I see ‘ee round ‘ere,
Why ’tis more’n sennight I saw ‘ee
Off down to the kiddley for beer.
I hear old Sam Bartlett’s a dyin’
Never been right since his cheel
Got pregnant by Poacher Polgreen
An’ ran off with the scoundrel to Zeal.
Did ‘ee go to the feast day at Gorran?
My gor, ’twas a right proper do.
All the gentry were there in their breeches
An’ a fair turnout of wrastlin’ men, too.
‘Twere there I met Mother Lockett
As I stopped for me crib by the church,
She reckons Squire Sawle’s done the dirty
An’ left ‘er old man in the lurch.
This forenoon I’m goin’ on down Haven
To see how the seiners have done.
A pilchard or two for me tea, maid,
Will be worth the mile or two run.
Ha’n’t seen ‘ee in church since the New Year
New preacher will ‘ave ‘ee for that.
He turns on the Cath’lics with one breath
An’ with t’other lams ol’ Wesley a scat.
I see your youngest is minin’
An’ ‘e’s coughin’ brave more’s the shame;
They say te’d’n the dust that do kill ‘ee
‘Tis a scourge by some fancy name.
My middle cheel’s a balmaid’n
Way over to Sticker her goes
Married last Whit to a blacksmith
Her first’ll be born ‘fore the close.
Well, me ol’ dear, I’ll be movin’
‘Twas a proper job meeting like that
Next market, call in for a pasty
An’ we’ll have another good chat.
