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Updated: May 21, 2025
'Coortin' of thy mother, lad? cried Farmer Snowe, with as much amazement as if the thing were impossible; 'why, who ever hath been dooin' of it? 'Yes, courting of my mother, sir. And you know best who comes doing it. 'Wull, wull! What will boys be up to next? Zhud a' thought herzelf wor the proper judge. No thank 'ee, lad, no need of thy light.
"Coortin' of thy mother, lad?" cried Farmer Snowe, with as much amazement as if the thing were impossible; "why, who ever hath been dooin' of it?" "Yes, courting of my mother, sir. And you know best who comes doing it." "Wull, wull! What will boys be up to next? Zhud a' thought herzelf wor the proper judge. No thank 'ee, lad, no need of thy light.
Upon the last two stanzas in "Woak Hill" I may as truly be said to have lived for a month as Charles Lamb lived upon "Rose Aylmer." An' that's why folk thought, for a season, My mind were a-wandren Wi' sorrow, when I wer so sorely A-tried at Woak Hill. But no; that my Mary mid never Behold herzelf slighted, I wanted to think that I guided My guide from Woak Hill.
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