WAĆIT till our Sally cooms in, fur thou mun a' sights1 to tell
Eh, but I be maƤin glad to seeƤ tha sa 'arty an' well
'Cast awaƤy on a disolut land wi' a vartical soon2!'
Strange fur to goƤ fur to think what saƤilors a' seeƤn an' a' doon;
'Summat to drink?sa' 'ot?' I 'a nowt but Adam's wine:
What's the 'eƤt o' this little 'ill-side to the 'eƤt o' the line?
II
'What's i' tha bottle a-stanning theer? I'll tell tha. Gin
But if thou wants thy grog, tha mun goƤ fur it down to the inn
Naay?fur I be maƤin-glad, but thaw tha was iver sa dry
Thou gits naw gin fro' the bottle theer, an' I'll tell tha why
III
MeƤ an' thy sister was married, when wur it? back-end o' June
Ten year sin', and wa 'greed as well as a fiddle i' tune:
I could fettle and clump owd booƶts and shoes wi' the best on 'em all
As fer as fro' Thursby thurn hup to Harmsby and Hutterby Hall
We was busy as beeƤs i' the bloom an' 'appy as 'art could think
An' then the babby wur burn, and then I taƤkes to the drink
IV
An' I weant gaƤinsaƤy it, my lad, thaw I be hafe shaƤmed on it now
We could sing a good song at the Plow, we could sing a good song at the Plow;
Thaw once of a frosty night I slither'd an hurted my huck,3
An' I coom'd neck-an-crop soomtimes slaƤpe down i' the squad an' the muck:
An' once I fowt wi' the TaƤilor?not hafe ov a man, my lad?
Fur he scrawm'd an' scratted my faƤce like a cat, an' it maƤde'er sa mad
That Sally she turn'd a tongue-banger4 an' raƤted ma, 'Sottin' thy braƤins
Guzzlin' an' soƤkin' an' smoƤkin' an' hawmin'5 about i' the laƤnes
SoƤ sow-droonk that tha doesn not touch thy 'at to the Squire;'
An' I looƶk'd cock-eyed at my noƤse an' I seeƤd 'im a-gittin' o' fire;
But sin' I wur hallus i' liquor an' hallus as droonk as a king
FoƤlks' coostom flitted awaƤy like a kite wi' a brokken string
V
An' Sally she wesh'd foƤlks' cloƤths to keep the wolf fro' the door
Eh but the moor she riled me, she druv me to drink the moor
Fur I fun', when 'er hack wur turn'd, wheer Sally's owd stockin' wur 'id
An' I grabb'd the munny she maƤde, and I weƤr'd it o' liquor, I did
VI
An' one night I cooms 'oƤm like a bull gotten loose at a faƤir
An' she wur a-waƤitin' fo'mma, an' cryin' and teƤrin' 'er 'aƤir
An' I tummled athurt the craƤdle an' sweƤr'd as I'd break ivry stick
O' furnitur 'ere i' the 'ouse, an' I gied our Sally a kick
An' I mash'd the taƤbles an' chairs, an' she an' the babby beƤl'd,6
Fur I knaw'd naw moor what I did nor a mortal beƤst o' the feƤld
VII
An' when I waƤked i' the murnin' I seeƤd that our Sally went laƤmed
Cos' o' the kick as I gied 'er, an' I wur dreadful ashaƤmed;
An' Sally wur sloomy7 an' draggle taƤil'd in an owd turn gown
An' the babby's faƤce wurn't wesh'd an' the 'ole 'ouse hupside down
VIII
An' then I minded our Sally sa patty an' neƤt an' sweeƤt
Strait as a pole an' cleƤn as a flower fro' 'ead to feeƤt:
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, we 'eƤrd '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
SeeƤd 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 'NoƤ, thou moƤnt,'
But I gied 'er a kiss, an' then anoother, an' Sally says 'doƤnt!'
IX
An' when we coom'd into MeeƤtin', at fust she wur all in a tew
But, arter, we sing'd the 'ymn togither like birds on a beugh;
An' Muggins 'e preƤch'd o' Hell-fire an' the loov o' God fur men
An' then upo' coomin' awaƤy Sally gied me a kiss ov 'ersen
X
Heer wur a fall fro' a kiss to a kick like SaƤtan as fell
Down out o' heaven i' hell-fire?thaw theer's naw drinkin' i' Hell;
MeƤ 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 greƤt num-cumpus I blubber'd awaƤy o' the bed?
'WeƤnt niver do it naw moor;' an' Sally loookt up an' she said
'I'll upowd it8 tha weƤnt; thou'rt like the rest o' the men
Thou'll goƤ sniffin' about the tap till tha does it agƫan
Theer's thy hennemy, man, an' I knaws, as knaws tha sa well
That, if tha seeƤs 'im an' smells 'im tha'll foller 'im slick into Hell.'
XII
'NaƤy,' says I, 'fur I weƤnt goƤ sniffin' about the tap.'
'WeƤnt tha?' she says, an' mysen I thowt i' mysen 'mayhap.'
'NoƤ:' an' I started awaƤy like a shot, an' down to the Hinn
An' I browt what tha seeƤs stannin' theer, yon big black bottle o' gin
XIII
'That caps owt,'9 says Sally, an' saw she begins to cry
But I puts it inter 'er 'ands an' I says to 'er, 'Sally,' says I
'Stan' 'im theer i' the naƤme o' the Lord an' the power ov 'is GraƤce
Stan' 'im theer, fur I'll looƶk my hennemy strait i' the faƤce
Stan' 'im theer i' the winder, an' let ma looƶk at 'im then
'E seeƤms naw moor nor watter, an' 'e's the Divil's oƤn sen.'
XIV
An' I wur down i' tha mouth, couldn't do naw work an' all
Nasty an' snaggy an' shaƤky, an' poonch'd my 'and wi' the hawl
But she wur a power o' coomfut, an' sattled 'ersen o' my knee
An' coƤxd an' coodled me oop till ageƤn I feel'd mysen free
XV
An' Sally she tell'd it about, an' foƤlk stood a-gawmin'10 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, wur it nobbut to saƤve my life;
An' blacksmith 'e strips me the thick ov 'is airm, an' 'e shaws it to me
FeeƤl thou this! thou can't graw this upo' watter!' says he
An' Doctor 'e calls o' Sunday an' just as candles was lit
'Thou moƤnt do it,' he says, 'tha mun break 'im off bit by bit.'
'Thou'rt but a Methody-man,' says Parson, and laƤys down 'is 'at
An' 'e points to the bottle o' gin, 'but I respeeks tha fur that;'
An' Squire, his oƤn very sen, walks down fro' the 'All to see
An' 'e spanks 'is 'and into mine, 'fur I respecks tha,' says 'e;
An' coostom ageƤn draw'd in like a wind fro' far an' wide
And browt me the booƶts to be cobbled fro' hafe the coontryside
XVI
An' theer 'e stans an' theer 'e shall stan to my dying daƤy;
I 'a gotten to loov 'im ageƤn in anoother kind of a waƤy
Proud on 'im, like, my lad, an' I keeƤps 'im cleƤn 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 fetter to fight wi' an fowt it out
Fine an' meller 'e mun be by this, if I cared to taƤste
But I moƤnt, my lad, and I weƤnt, fur I'd feƤl mysen cleƤn disgraƤced
XVIII
An' once I said to the Missis, 'My lass, when I cooms to die
Smash the bottle to smithers, the Divil's in 'im,' said I
But arter I chaƤnged my mind, an' if Sally be left aloƤn
I'll hev 'im a-buried wi'mma an' taƤkt 'im afoor the ThroƤn
XIX
Coom thou 'eer?yon laƤdy a-steppin along the streeƤt
Doesn't tha knaw 'er?sa pratty, an' feƤt, an' neƤt, an' sweeƤt?
Look at the cloƤths on 'er back, thebbe ammost spick-span-new
An' Tommy's faƤce be as fresh as a codlin wesh'd i' the dew
XX
'Ere he our Sally an' Tommy, an' we be a-goin to dine
BaƤcon an' taƤtes, an' a beslings-pud-din'11 an' Adam's wine;
But if tha wants ony grog tha mun goƤ fur it down to the Hinn
Fur I weƤnt shed a drop on 'is blood, noƤ, not fur Sally's oƤn kin