I dwon' naw, bit I
da thenk, nif I war a gennelman, that I'd vine better spoort than
huntin; bezides, zim ta I 'tis desperd wicked to hunt animals vor
one's spoort. Now, jitch a horrid blanscue as what happened at
Shapick, niver could a bin but vor tha hungry houns. I haup that
gennelmen ool thenk o't oten; an when thAc da hire tha yell o' tha
houns thAc'll not vorgit Fanny Fear; a-mAc-be thAc mid be zummet tha
wiser an better vor't; I'm shower jitch a storry desarves ta be
remimbered. This is the moril.
I am, sur, your sarvant,
TEDDY BAND.
THE CHURCHWARDEN.
Upon a time, naw matter whaur,
Jitch plazen there be many a scaur
In Zummerzet's girt gorden;
(Ive hir'd 'twar handy ta tha zea,
Not vur vrom whaur tha zantots be)
There liv'd a young churchwarden.
A zim'd delighted when put in.
An zaw a thawt a ood begin
Ta do hiz office duly:
Bit zum o'm, girt vawk in ther wAc--
Tha _Porish_ o'ten cAclled,--a girt bell sheep
Or two that lead the rest an quiet keep--
Put vooA¤th ther hons iz coose to stAc,
Which made en quite unruly.
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