Again thAc rawd along; again
She whissled. Mr. Guy
Whipt out hiz knife an cut tha belt,
Then push'd er off!--Vor why?
Tha ooman he took up behine,
Begummers, war a _man!_
Tha rubbers zaw ad lAcd ther plots
Our grazier to trepan.
I shall not stap ta tell what zed
Tha man in ooman's clawze;
Bit he, and all o'm jist behine,
War what you mid suppawze.
ThAc cust, thAc swaur, thAc dreaten'd too,
An ater Mr. Guy
ThAc gallop'd all; 'twar niver-tha-near:
Hiz hoss along did vly.
Auver downs, droo dales, awAc a went,
'Twar dAc-light now amawst,
Till at an inn a stapt, at last,
Ta thenk what he'd a lost.
A lost?--why, nothin--but hiz belt!--
A zummet moor ad gain'd:
Thic little trunk a corr'd awAc--
It gawld g'lore contain'd!
Nif Mr. Guy war hirch avaur,
A now war hircher still:
Tha plunder o' tha highwAcmen
Hiz coffers went ta vill.
In sAcfety Mr. Guy rawd whim;
A A?ten tawld tha storry.
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