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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Edwin Waugh 1818–90

The Dule ’s i’ This Bonnet o’ Mine

THE DULE ’S i’ this bonnet o’ mine;

My ribbins ’ll never be reet;

Here, Mally, aw ’m like to be fine,

For Jamie ’ll be comin’ to-neet;

He met me i’ th’ lone t’ other day,—

Aw ’re gooin’ for wayter to th’ well,—

An’ he begg’d that aw ’d wed him i’ May;—

Bi th’ mass, iv he ’ll let me, aw will!

When he took my two honds into his,

Good Lord, heaw they trembled between;

An’ aw durstn’t look up in his face,

Becose on him seein’ my e’en;

My cheek went as red as a rose;—

There ’s never a mortal can tell

Heaw happy aw felt; for, thea knows,

One could n’t ha’ ax’d him theirsel’.

But th’ tale wur at th’ end o’ my tung,—

To let it eawt would n’t be reet,—

For aw thought to seem forrud wur wrung,

So aw towd him aw ’d tell him to-neet;

But Mally, thae knows very weel,—

Though it is n’t a thing one should own,—

Iv aw ’d th’ pikein’ o’ th’ world to mysel’,

Aw ’d oather ha’ Jamie or noan.

Neaw, Mally, aw ’ve towd tho my mind;

What would to do iv ’t wur thee?

“Aw ’d tak him just while he ’re inclin’d,

An’ a farrantly bargain he ’d be;

For Jamie ’s as gradely a lad

As ever stepp’d eawt into th’ sun;—

Go, jump at thy chance, an’ get wed,

An’ may th’ best o’ th’ job when it ’s done!”

Eh, dear, but it ’s time to be gwon,—

Aw should n’t like Jamie to wait;

Aw connut for shame be too soon,

An’ aw would n’t for th’ world be too late;

Aw ’m o’ ov a tremble to th’ heel,—

Dost think ’at my bonnet ’ll do?—

“Be off, lass,—thae looks very weel;

He wants noan o’ th’ bonnet, thae foo!”