aght o’ Keighley.”

The girt park wall arahnd the hall, Majestical does stand; Wi’ wavin’ trees, an’ pleasant breeze, It’s like a fairy land.

It fill’d wur eyes wi’ gert surprise, To see the fahnten sporting; An’ on the top, stuck on a prop, The British flags wor floatin’.

The walks so grand, wi’ yellow sand, An’ splendid wor the pavin’, High over all, arahnd the wall, Wor flags an’ banners wavin’.

Nah—some made fun, an’ some did run, Owd women they wor singin’— “Do you ken the Moofin Man,”—  An’ others they wor swingin’.

I’ sooth ’twor grand to see this band, Assembled all together; Bud sad to say, that varry day Turn’d aght some shockin’ weather.

p. 102Bud war ner t’rain, aw mun explain,  ’At caus’d a girt disaster, All but one sort o’ breead ran short—  It wor no fault o’ t’maister.

p. 102

O, Gormanton! thy breead an’ bun, An’ judgment it wor scanty; Oh, what a shame, an’ what a name, For not providing plenty!

Oh, silly clown! thah might hev knawn, To eyt each one wor able; The country air did mak some swear They cud ommost eyt a table.

The atmosphere, no longer clear, The clouds are black an’ stormy; Then all but one away did run, Like some desertin’ army.

On—on! they go! as if some foe Wor chargin’ at the lot! If they got there, they didn’t care A fig for poor Will Scott!

Poor lame owd Will remains theer still, His crutches hes to fetch him; But he’s seen t’time, when in his prime,  ’At nobody theer cud catch him.

Like some fast steed wi’ all its speed, All seem’d as they wor flyin’; To escape the rain, an’ catch the train, Both owd and young wor tryin’.

p. 103One Mat o’ Wills, abaght Crosshills, He heeard a fearful hummin’, He said ta t’wife, “Upon mi life, Aw think the French are comin’!

p. 103

Tha knaws reight weel ’at we’ve heeard tell O’ sich strange things afore, So lass luke quick an’ cut thi stick, An’ I will bolt the door.”

Like drahnded rats they pass owd Mat’s, An’ ran dahn to the station; Owd 

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