An' th' carter vow'd until he did He wodn't stir a peg.

He said he'd done his business reight,-- He'd brought it up to th' door, An' thear it wor, an' noa fair chap Wod want him to do moor.

But wol they stamped, an' raved, an' swore, An' vented aght ther spleen, Th' childer wor thrang enough, you're sure, All plaisterd up to th' een.

A neighbor chap saw th' state o' things, An' pitied ther distress, An' begg'd em not to be soa sour Abaht soa sweet a mess;

"An' tha'd be sour," th' owd grocer sed, "If th' job wor thine owd lad, An' somdy wanted thee to pay For what tha'd niver had."

"Th' fault isn't mine," said th' cart driver, "My duty's done I hope?

I've brought him traitle, thear it is, An' he mun sam it up."

Soa th' neighbor left em to thersen, He'd nowt noa moor to say, But went to guard what ther wor left, An' send th' young brood away.

This didn't suit th' young lads a bit,-- They didn't mean to stop, They felt detarmin'd that they'd get Another traitle sop.

They tried all ways but th' chap stood firm, They couldn't get a lick, An' some o'th' boldest gate a taste O'th neighbor's walkin stick.

At last one said, "I know a plan If we can scheme to do it, We'll knock one daan bang into th' dolt, An' let him roll reight throo it;"

"Agreed! agreed!" they all replied, "An here comes little Jack, He's foorced to pa.s.s cloise up this side, We'll do it in a crack."

Poor Jack wor rayther short, an' came Just like a suckin duck; He little dream'd at th' sweets o' life Wod ivver be his luck.

But daan they shoved him, an' he roll'd Heead first bang into th' mess, An' aght he coom a woeful seet, As yo may easy guess.

They marched him off i' famous glee, All stickified an' clammy, Then licked him clean an' sent him hooam To get lick'd by his mammy.

Then th' cartdriver an th' grocer came, Booath in a dreadful flutter, To save some, but they came too lat, It all wor lost ith gutter:

It towt a lesson to em booath Befoor that job wor ended, To try (at stead o' falling aght) If owt went wrang to mend it.

For wol fowk rave abaht ther loss, Some sharper's sure to pop, An' aght o' ther misfortunes They'll contrive to get a sop.

Once agean Welcome.

Once agean welcome! oh, what is ther grander, When years have rolled by sin' yo left an old friend?

An what cheers yor heart, when yo far away wander, As mich as the thowts ov a welcome at th' end?

Yo may goa an be lucky, an win lots o' riches; Yo may gain fresh acquaintance as onward yo rooam; But tho' wealth may be temptin, an honor bewitches, Yet they're nowt when compared to a welcome back hooam.

Pray, who hasn't felt as they've sat sad an lonely, They'd give all they possessed for the wings ov a dove, To fly far away, just to catch a seet only Ov th' friends o' ther childhood, the friends 'at they love.

Hope may fill the breast when some old spot we're leavin, Bright prospects may lure us throo th' dear land away, But it's joy o' returnin at sets one's breast heavin, It's th' hopes ov a welcome back maks us feel gay.

Long miles yo may trudge ovver moor, heath, or mire, Till yor legs seem to totter, an th' stummack feels faint; But yor thowts still will dwell o' that breet cottage fire, Till yo feel quite refreshed bi th' fancies yo paint.

An when yo draw nearer, an ovver th' old palins Yo see smilin faces 'at welcome yo back, Ther's an end to being weary! away wi complainin's!

Yo leeave all yor troubles behind on yor track.

Then if ther's sich joy in a welcome receivin, Let us ivvery one try sich a pleasure to gain; An bi soothin' fowk's cares, an ther sorrows relievin, Let us bind em all to us, wi' friendship's strong chain.

Let us love an be loved! let's be kind an forgivin, An then if fate forces us far from awr hooam, We shall still throughout life have the joy o' receivin A tear when we part, an a smile when we come.

Still true to Nell.

Th' sun wor settin,--red an gold, Wi splendor paintin th' west, An purplin tints throo th' valley roll'd, As daan he sank to rest.

Yet dayleet lingered looath to leeav A world soa sweet an fair, Wol silent burds a pathway cleave, Throo th' still an slumb'rin air.

Aw stroll'd along a country rooad, Hedged in wi thorn an vine; Which wild flower scents an shadows broad, Converted to a shrine.

As twileet's deeper curtains fell Aw sat mi daan an sighed; Mi thowts went back to th' time when Nell, Had rambled bi mi side.

Aw seemed to hear her voice agean, Soft whisperin i' mi ear, Recallin things 'at once had been, When th' futur all wor clear.

When love,--pure, honest, youthful love Had left us nowt to crave; An fancies full ov bliss we wove;-- Alas! Nell's in her grave.

Oh, Nell! I' that fair hooam ov thine, Whear all is breet an pure,--- Say,--is ther room for love like mine?

Can earthborn love endure?

Do angels' hearts past vows renew, To mortals here who dwell?

It must be soa;--if my heart's true, Aw cannot daat thee, Nell.

It's weel we cannot see beyond That curtain Deeath lets fall; Lest cheerin hooaps, an longins fond, Should be denied us all.

Better to live i' hooap nor fear,-- 'Tis Mercy plan'd it soa; For if my Nelly isn't thear, Aw shouldn't care to goa.

Bide thi Time.

Bide thi time! it's sure to come, Tho' it may seem tardy,-- Thine's a better fate nor some: If tha's but a humble home, Yet thart strong an hardy; Then cheer up an ne'er repine, Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! if fortun's blind, Rail not at her givin; If tha thinks shoo's ovver kind To thi neighbor, nivver mind, If tha gets a livin; Woll thi life is in its prime, Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! for ther's a endin To a loin, haivver long: Things at th' warst mun start o' mendin; Ther's noa wind but what's befriendin One or other, tho' its strong: Remember, poverty's noa crime-- Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! tho none are near thee To stretch out a helpin hand; Let noa darken'd prospect fear thee, Ther's a promise yet should cheer thee As tha nears a breeter land: Tho thi rooad is hard to climb, Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! "I will not leave thee Nor forsake thee," He hath said.

Let not worldly smiles deceive thee, Trust in Him--He will relieve thee-- He that gives thy daily bread: Fill'd with faith and love sublime, Still contented, bide thi time.

A Cold Dooas.

One neet aw went hooam, what time aw can't tell, But it must ha been lat, for awd th' street to mysel.

Furst one clock, then t'other, kept ringin aght chimes, Aw wor gaumless, a chap will get gaumless sometimes.

Thinks aw--tha'll drop in for't to-neet lad, tha will!