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Yorkshire Ditties, Second Series To which is added The Cream of Wit and Humour from his Popular Writings   By: (1839-1915)

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First Page:

DEDICATION. To RICHARD CHERRY, C. E., as a small token of the respect in which he is held by The Author.

YORKSHIRE DITTIES; BY JOHN HARTLEY; Born 1839 Died 1915 TO WHICH IS ADDED THE CREAM OF WIT AND HUMOUR, FROM HIS POPULAR WRITINGS. Second Series

WAKEFIELD: WILLIAM NICHOLSON AND SONS. LONDON: S. D. EWINS JR. AND CO., 22, PATERNOSTER ROW. MANCHESTER: JOHN HEYWOOD, AND A. HEYWOOD AND SON. [ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.]

PREFACE. We offer no apology for presenting this little book to the public, feeling sure from our past experience, that it will be kindly welcomed by a great many lovers of their "native twang." THE PUBLISHERS.

CONTENTS of Second Series.

Th' Better Part. Done Agean. Latter Wit. My Gronfayther's Days. Heart Brocken. To a Daisy. A Bad Sooart. All we Had. Give it 'em Hot. Th' Honest Hard Worker. Niver Heed. Sing On. What aw Want. What it is to be Mother. What is It. Come thi Ways! Advice to Jenny. Ther's mich Expected. A Strange Stooary. Take Heart. Did yo Iver. An Old Man's Christmas Morning. Billy Bumble's Bargain. Moral. Rejected. Duffin Johnie. Lost Love. Th' Traitle Sop. To Let. Fault Finders. Disapointment. Work Away. New Machinery &c. September Month. A Hawporth. Buttermilk &c. It's a comfort. Progress. Try Again. Jealousy. Winter. Persevere. Booith Taan Election. Election. None think Alike. Seaside.

Th' Better Part.

A poor owd man wi' tott'ring gait, Wi' body bent, and snowy pate, Aw met one day; An' daan o' th' rooad side grassy banks He sat to rest his weary shanks; An' aw, to wile away my time, O'th' neighbouring hillock did recline, An' bade "gooid day."

Said aw, "Owd friend, pray tell me true, If in your heart yo niver rue The time 'ats past? Does envy niver fill your breast When passin fowk wi' riches blest? An' do yo niver think it wrang At yo should have to trudge alang, Soa poor to th' last?"

"Young man," he said "aw envy nooan; But ther are times aw pity some, Wi' all mi heart; To see what troubled lives they spend, What cares upon their hands depend; Then aw in thoughtfulness declare 'At 'little cattle little care' Is th' better part.

Gold is a burden hard to carry, An' tho' Dame Fortune has been chary O' gifts to me; Yet still aw strive to feel content, An' think what is, for th' best is meant; An' th' mooast ov all aw strive for here, Is still to keep mi conscience clear, From dark spots free.

An' while some tax ther brains to find What they'll be forced to leave behind, When th' time shall come; Aw try bi honest word an' deed, To get what little here aw need, An' live i' hopes at last to say, When breath go as flickerin away, 'Awm gooin hooam.'"

Aw gave his hand a hearty shake, It seem'd as tho' the words he spake Sank i' mi heart: Aw walk'd away a wiser man, Detarmined aw wod try his plan I' hopes at last 'at aw might be As weel assured ov Heaven as he; That's th' better part.

Done Agean.

Aw've a rare lump o' beef on a dish, We've some bacon 'at's hung up o' th' thack, We've as mich gooid spike cake as we wish, An' wi' currens its varry near black; We've a barrel o' gooid hooam brewed drink, We've a pack o' flaar reared agean th' clock, We've a load o' puttates under th' sink, So we're pretty weel off as to jock. Aw'm soa fain aw can't tell whear to bide, But the cause aw dar hardly let aat; It suits me moor nor all else beside; Aw've a paand 'at th' wife knows nowt abaat.

Aw can nah have a spree to misel? Aw can treat mi old mates wi' a glass; An' aw sha'nt ha' to come home an' tell My old lass, ha' aw've shut all mi brass. Some fowk say, when a chap's getten wed, He should nivver keep owt thro' his wife; If he does awve oft heard 'at it's sed, 'At it's sure to breed trouble an' strife; If it does aw'm net baan to throw up, Tho' aw'd mich rayther get on withaat; But who wodn't risk a blow up, For a paand 'at th' wife knows nowt abaat... Continue reading book >>




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