NA'Y, no' mander (2) o' use to be callin' 'im Ro', Ro', Ro',
Fur the dog's sto'n-deaf, an' e's blind, 'e can naither Stan' nor go'.
But I means fur to ma'ke 'is owd a'ge as 'appy as iver I can,
Fur I ow's owd Ro'ver moor nor I iver ow'd mottal man.
Thou's rode of 'is back when a babby, afoor thou was gotten too owd,
Fur 'e'd fetch an' carry like owt, 'e was allus as good as gowd.
Eh, but 'e'd fight wi' a will when 'e fowt; 'e could howd (3) 'is o'n,
An' Ro' as the dog as knaw'd when an' wheere to bury his boane.
An' 'e kep his head hoop like a king, an' 'e'd niver not down wi' 'is ta'il,
Fur 'e'd niver done nowt to be sha'med on, when we was i' Howlaby Da'le.
An' 'e sarved me sa well when 'e lived, that, Dick, when 'e cooms to be de'd,
I thinks as I'd like fur to hev soom soort of a sarvice re'd.
Fur 'e's moor good sense na the Parliament man 'at stans fur us 'ere,
An' I'd vo't fur 'im, my o'n sen, if 'e could but stan fur the Shere.
'Fa'ithful an' True''them words be i' Scriptur'an' Fa'ithful an' True
Ull be fun' (4) upo' four short legs ten times fur one upo' two.
An' ma'ybe they'll walk upo' two but I knaws they runs upo' four, (5)'
Bedtime, Dicky! but wa'it till tha 'e'rs it be strikin' the hour.
Fur I wants to tell tha o' Ro' when we lived i' Howlaby Da'le,
Ten year sin'Na'y'na'y! tha mun nobbut hev' one glass of a'le.
Stra'nge an' owd-farran'd (6) the 'ouse, an' belt (7) long afoor my da'y
Wi' ha'fe o' the chimleys a-twizzen'd (8) an' twined like a band o' ha'y.
The fellers as ma'kes them picturs, 'ud coom at the fall o' the year,
An' cattle their ends upo stools to pictur the door-poorch theere,
An' the Heagle 'as hed two he'ds stannin' theere o' the brokken stick; (9)
An' they niver 'ed seed sich ivin's (10) as graw'd hall ower the brick;
An' theere i' the 'ouse one night'but it's down, an' all on it now
Go'n into mangles an' tonups, (11) an' ra'ved slick thruf by the plow'
Theere, when the 'ouse wur a house, one night I wur sittin' alo'n,
Wi' Ro'ver athurt my fee't, an' slee'pin still as a sto'n,
Of a Christmas E've, an' as cowd as this, an' the midders (12) as white,
An the fences all on 'em bolster 'd oop wi' the windle (13) that night;
An' the cat wur a-slee'pin alongside Ro'ver, but I wur awa'ke,
An' smo'kin' an' thinkin' o' things'Do'nt ma'ke thysen sick wi' the ca'ke.
Fur the men ater supper 'ed sung their songs an' 'ed 'ed their beer,
An' 'ed go'n their wa'ys; ther was nobbut three, an' no'n on 'em theere.
They was all on 'em fear'd o' the Gho'st an' dussn't not slee'p i' the 'ouse,
But Dicky, the Gho'st mo'stlins (14) was nobbut a rat or a mouse.
An' I loo'kt out wonst (15) at the night, an' the da'le was all of a thaw,
Fur I seed the beck coomin' down like a long black sna'ke i' the snaw,
An' I he'rd gre't he'ps o' the snaw slushin' down fro' the bank to the beck,
An' then as I stood i' the doorwa'y, I fee'ld it drip o' my neck.
Saw I turn'd in age'n, an' I thowt o' the good owd times 'at was goan,
An' the munney they ma'de by the war, an' the times 'at was coomin' on;
Fur I thowt if the Sta'te was a gawin' to let in furriners' wheat,
Howiver was British farmers to stan' age'n o' their fee't.
Howiver was I fur to find my rent an' to pa'y my men?
An' all along o' the feller (16) as turn'd 'is back of hissen.
Thou slep i' the chaumber above us, we couldn't ha' 'eard tha call,
Sa Moother 'ed tell'd ma to bring tha down, an' thy cra'dle an' all;
Fur the gell o' the farm 'at slep wi' tha then 'ed gotten wer le've,
Fur to go' that night to 'er fo'lk by cause o' the Christmas E've;
But I cle'n forgot tha, my lad, when Moother 'ell gotten to bed,
An' I slep i' my chair hup-on-end, an' the Free' Tra'de runn'd 'i my 'ead,
Till I dre'm'd 'at Squire walkt in, an' I says to him 'Squire, ya're la'te,'
Then I seed at 'is fa'ce wur as red as the Yule-block theer i' the gra'te.
An' 'e says 'can ya pa'y me the rent to-night?' an' I says to 'im 'No','
An' 'e cotch'd howd hard o' my hairm, (17) 'Then hout to-night tha shall go'.'
'Tha'll niver,' says I, 'be a-turnin ma hout upo' Christmas E've'?
Then I wa'ked an' I fun it was Ro'ver a-tuggin' an' tearin' my slie've.
An' I thowt as 'e'd go'n cle'n-wud, (18) fur I no'wa'ys knaw'd 'is intent;
An' I says 'Git awa'y, ya be'st,' an' I fetcht 'im a kick an' 'e went.
Then 'e tummled up stairs, fur I 'e'rd 'im, as if 'e'd 'a brokken 'is neck,
An' I'd cle'r forgot, little Dicky, thy chaumber door wouldn't sneck; (19)
An' I slep' i' my chair age'n wi' my hairm hingin' down to the floor,
An' I thowt it was Ro'ver a-tuggin' an' tearin' me wuss nor afoor,
An' I thowt 'at I kick'd 'im age'n, but I kick'd thy Moother istead.
'What arta snorin' theere fur? the house is afire,' she said.
Thy Moother 'ed be'n a-naggin' about the gell o' the farm,
She offens 'ud spy summut wrong when there warn't not a mossel o' harm;
An' she didn't not solidly me'n I wur gawin' that wa'y to the bad,
Fur the gell (20) a was as howry a trollope as iver tra'pes'd i' the squad.
But Moother was free of 'er tongue, as I offens 'ev tell'd 'er mysen,
Sa I kep i' my chair, fur I thowt she was nobbut a-rilin' ma then.
An' I says ' I'd be good to tha, Bess, if tha'd onywa'ys let ma be good,'
But she skelpt ma ha'fe ower i' the chair, an' scree'd like a Howl gone wud (21)'
'Ya mun run fur the lether. (22) Git oop, if ya're onywa'ys good for owt.'
And I says 'If I be'nt no'wa'ys'not nowada'ys'good fur nowt'
Yit I be'nt sich a Nowt (23) of all Nowts as 'ull hallus do as 'e's bid.'
'But the stairs is afire,' she said; then I seed 'er a-cryin', I did.
An' she be'ld 'Ya mun sa've little Dick, an' be sharp about it an' all,'
Sa I runs to the yard fur a lether, an' sets 'im age'n the wall,
An' I claums an' I mashes the winder hin, when I gits to the top,
But the heat druv hout i' my heyes till I fe'ld mysen ready to drop.
Thy Moother was howdin' the lether, an' tellin' me not to be ske'rd,
An' I wasn't afe'rd, or I thinks le'st-wa'ys as I wasn't afe'rd;
But I couldn't see fur the smo'ke wheere thou was a-liggin, my lad,
An' Ro'ver was theere i' the chaumber a-yowlin' an' yaupin' like mad;
An' thou was a-be'lin' likewise, an' a-sque'lin', as if tha was bit,
An' it wasn't a bite but a burn, fur the merk's (24) o' thy shou'der yit;
Then I call'd out Ro', Ro', Ro', thaw I didn't ha'fe think as 'e'd 'ear,
But 'e coom'd thruf the fire wi my bairn i' 'is mouth to the winder theere!
He coom'd like a Hangel o' marcy as soon as 'e 'eard 'is na'me,
Or like tother Hangel i' Scriptur 'at summun seed i' the fla'me,
When summun 'ed hax'd fur a son, an' 'e promised a son to she,
An' Ro' was as good as the Hangel i' sa'vin' a son fur me.
Sa I browt tha down, an' I says 'I mun gaw up agean fur Ro'.'
'Gaw up age'n fur the varmint?' I tell'd 'er 'Ye's I mun go'.'
An' I claumb'd up age'n to the winder, an' clemm'd (25) owd Ro' by the 'e'd,
An' 'is 'air coom'd off i' my 'ands an' I ta'ked 'im at fust fur dead;
Fur 'e smell'd like a herse a-singein', an' see'm'd as blind as a poop,
An' ha'fe on 'im bare as a bublin'. (26) I couldn't wakken 'im oop,
But I browt 'im down, an' we got to the barn, fur the barn wouldn't burn
Wi' the wind blawin' hard tother wa'y, an' the wind wasn't like to turn.
An' I kep a-callin' o' Ro' till 'e waggled 'is ta'il fur a bit,
But the cocks kep a-crawin' an' crawin' all night, an' I 'ears 'em yit;
An' the dogs was a-yowlin' all round, and thou was a-sque'lin' thysen,
An' Moother was naggin' an' gro'nin' an mo'nin' an' naggin' age'n;
An' I 'e'rd the bricks an' the baulks (27) rummle down when the roof gev wa'y,
Fur the fire was a-ra'gin' an' ra'vin' an' ro'rin' like judgment da'y.
Warm enew theere sewer-ly, but the barn was as cowd as owt,
An' we cuddled and huddled togither, an' happt (28) wersens oop as we mowt.
An' I browt Ro' round, but Moother 'ed be'n sa so'k'd wi' the thaw
'At she cotch'd 'er death o' cowd that night, poor soul, i' the straw.
Ha'fe o' the parish runn'd oop when the rigtree (29) was tummlin' in'
Too la'te'but it's all ower now'hall hower'an' ten year sin;
Too la'te, tha mun git tha to bed, but I'll coom an' I'll squench the light,
Fur we mo'nt 'ev naw moor fires'and soa little Dick, good-night.