VIII.

An' then I minded our Sally sa pratty an' neät an'

sweeät,

Straät as a pole an' cleän as a flower fro' 'eäd to feeät : An' then I minded the fust kiss I gied 'er by Thursby thurn;

Theer wur a lark a-singin' 'is best, of a Sunday at murn, Couldn't see 'im, 'eärd 'im a-mountin' oop 'igher an'

'igher,

An' then 'e turn'd to the sun, an' 'e shined like a sparkle o' fire.

'Doesn't tha see im',' she axes, 'fur I can see 'im?' an' I Seeäd nobbut the smile o' the sun as danced in 'er pratty

blue eye;

An' I says 'I mun gie tha a kiss,' an' Sally says 'Noä, thou moänt,'

But I gied 'er a kiss, an' then anoother, and Sally says 'doänt!'

IX.

An' when we coom'd into meeätin', at fust she wur all

in a tew,

But, arter, we sing'd the 'ymn togither, like birds on a

beugh;

An' Muggins 'e preäched o' Hell-fire an' the loov o' God

fur men,

An' then, upo' coomin' awaäy Sally gied me a kiss ov 'ersen.

X.

Heer wur a fall, fro' a kiss to a kick, like Saätan as fell Down out o' heaven i' Hell-fire-thaw theer's naw

drinkin' ' Hell;

Me fur to kick our Sally as kep' the wolf fro' the door, All along o' the drink, fur I loov'd 'er as well as afoor.

XI.

Sa like a graät num-cumpus I blubber'd awaäy o' the

bed

'Weant niver do it naw moor;' an' Sally looökt up

she said:

an

'I'll upowd it tha weant; thou'rt like the rest o' the

men,

Thou'll goä sniffin' about the tap till tha does it agëan. Theer's thy hennemy, man, an' I knaws, as knaws tha

sa well,

That, if tha seeäs 'im an' smells 'im tha'll foller 'im slick into Hell.'

XII.

'Naäy,' says I, 'fur I weänt goä sniffin about the tap.' 'Weänt tha?' she says, an' mysen I thowt i' mysen 'mayhap.'

'Noä:' an' I started awaäy like a shot, an' down to the

hinn,

An' I browt what tha seeäs stannin' theer, yon big black bottle o' gin.

XIII.

'That caps owt,' says Sally, an' saw she begins to cry, But I puts it into 'er 'ands an' I says to 'er, 'Sally,'

says I,

'Stan' 'im theer i' the naäme o' the Lord an' the power ov 'is Graäce,

Stan' 'im theer, fur I'll looök my hennemy sträit i' the

faäce,

Stan' 'im theer i' the winder, an' let ma looök at 'im

then,

'E seeäms naw moor nor watter, an' 'e's the Divil's oan

sen.'

XIV.

An' I wur down i' tha mouth, couldn't do naw work, an'

all

Nasty, an' snaggy an' shaäky, an' poonch'd my 'and wi' the hawl,

But she wur a power o' coomfit an' sattled 'ersen o' my

knee,

An' coäxed an' coodled me oop till ageän I feel'd mysen

free.

XV.

An' Sally she tell'd it about, an' foälk stood a-gawmin

in,

As thaw it wur summat bewitch'd istead of a quart o'

gin;

An' some on 'em said it wur watter-an' I wur chousin

the wife,

Fur I couldn't 'owd 'ands off gin, were it nobbut to saäve my life;

An' blacksmith 'e strips me the thick ov 'is airm, an, 'e shaws it to me,

'Feëal thou this! thou can't graw this upo' watter!' says he.

An' Doctor 'e calls o' Sunday an' just as candles was

lit,

Thou moänt do it,' he says, 'tha mun breäk 'im off bit

by bit."

Thou'rt but a Methody-man,' says Parson, and laäys down 'is 'at,

An' 'e points to the bottle o' gin, but I respecks tha fur that; '

An' Squire, his oän very sen, walks down from the 'All

to see,

An' 'e spanks 'is 'and into mine, 'fur I respecks tha,'

says 'e;

An' coostom ageän draw'd in like the wind, fro' far an'

wide,

An' browt me the booöts to be cobbled fro' hafe the

coontryside.

XVI.

An' theer'e stans an' theer'e shall stan to my dying

day;

I 'a gotten to loov 'im ageän in anoother kind of a

way,

Proud on 'im, like, my lad, an' I keeäps 'im cleän an'

bright,

Loovs 'im, an' roobs 'im, an' doosts 'im, an' puts 'im back i' the light.

XVII.

Wouldn't a pint a' sarved as well as a quart? Naw

doubt:

But I liked a bigger feller to fight wi', an' fowt it out. Fine an' meller 'e mun be by this, if I cared to taäste, But I moänt, my lad, an' I weänt, fur I'd feäl mysen cleän disgraäced.

XVIII.

Coom thou 'eer-yon laädy a-steppin' along the streeät, Doesn't tha knaw 'er-sa pratty, and feät, an' neät, an' sweat?

Look at the cloäths on 'er back, thebbe ammost spick

spannew,

An' Tommy's face is as fresh as a codlin 'at's weshe'd 'i the dew.

XIX.

'Ere's our Sally an' Tommy, an' we be a-goin' to dine, Baäcon an' taätes, an' a beslings-puddin' an' Adam':

wine;

But if tha wants any grog tha mun goä fur it down to the hinn,

Fur I weänt shed a drop on 'is blood, noä, not fur Sally's oän kin.

SAM'S LETTER.

From the American Cousin.

WONDER who w-wote me this letter. I thuppose the b-best way to f-find out ith to open it and thee. (Opens letter.) Thome lun-lunatic hath w-witten me this letter. He hath w-witten it upthide down. I wonder if he th-thought I wath going to w-wead it thanding on my head. Oh, yeth, I thee; I had it t-t-turned upthide down. "Amewica." Who do I know in Amewica ? I am glad he hath g-given me hith addwess anyhow. Oh, yeth, I thee, it ith from Tham. I alwaths know Tham's handwiting when I thee hith name at the b-bottom of it. "My dear bwother-" Tham alwayths called me bwother. I-I thuppose iths because hith m-mother and my mother wath the thame woman, and we never had any thisters. When we were boyths we were ladths together. They used to ge-get off a pwoverb when they thaw uth com-coming down the stweet. It ith vwery good, if I could only think of it. I can never wecollect anything that I can't we-wemember. Iths-it iths the early bir-bird-iths the early bir-bird that knowths ithe