T'owd Widder Waites

T''owd Widder Waites sat up i'bed
A sorry lookin' bein',
An to 'er onnly son shoo said:
"John Bill, Ah think Ah'm deein.

"Who's bahn ter wesh an cook fer theee.
Ter mend thi socks an clo'es?
Oo can ther bee i'stead o' me?"
Shoo shobbed an blew 'er nose.

"Tha'll 'ev ter go an find thissen
A wife ter tak mi place.
A good, 'ard warkin, solid lass,
An then Ah'll go wi good grace."

"Nay, Mother, NAY!" said young John Bill,
"Tha mussent go an dee.
Ther in't a lass this side o'mill
Can cook as good as thee!"

"It's no use talkin," shoo replied,
"Tha naws Ah'm noan sa clivver.
Tha needs another bi thi side,
Wi noan of us live forivver."

Nah t'lad were sweet on Sally Kay,
A dizzy little dolly,
Wi big blue eyes an 'air like straw,
An brainless as a brolly!

Well, when e took 'er 'ome t'next day
Ter show 'er to 'is mother.
T'owd lass recovered reight away
Wi'aht a bit o'bother.

"Good Lord!" shoo cried till t'rafters shook,
Wi t'force of 'er thanksgivin,
"Be off nah, Sally! Tak thee 'ook!
Ah'd better go on livin!"