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"Then, th' baillies looked reawnd 'em as sly as a meawse, When they see'd at o'th goods had bin taen eawt o' th' heawse; Says tone chap to tother, 'O's gone, thae may see, Says aw, 'Lads, ne'er fret, for yo're welcome to me! Then they made no moor do, But nipt up wi' owd stoo, An' we both letten thwack upo' th' flags.
But aw'm seechin' nothin', man nor meawse, that donnot belung me. Aw tell yo true. Gie mo mo Mattie, and aw'll trouble yo no moor. Aw winnot if yo'll give mo back mo Mattie. Col. G. Yes. Th. Ov a pratty yung lass? Col. G. Well, no. I have but a son. Th. Then thae winnot help mo? Col. G. I shall be very glad to help you, if you will tell me how. Th.
Then t' baileys leuked reawnd as sloy as a meawse, When they seed as aw t' goods were ta'en eawt o' t' heawse; Says one chap to th' tother, "Aws gone, theaw may see"; Says oi, "Ne'er freet, mon, yeaur welcome ta' me." They made no moor ado But whopped up th' eawd stoo', An' we booath leet, whack upo' t' flags
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