Classic Poem

THOMAS AND STEPHEN

THOMAS

When cousin Sam come down vrom Lon'on,
Along at vust I wer uncommon mad wi' en,
'E thought hizzelf so very cunnen;
But 'dhang my buttons! ther wer fun we had wi' en.

STEPHEN

What did ye do? How did ye sar'n? I s'pose
You played zome riggs to spwile his dandy clothes.

THOMAS

'E thought hizzelf a capital good rider;
And I thought that ther coulden be a woose;
'E coulden ride noo muore than a wold goose;
'E used to zit a hoss jist like a spider
Upon a web. Oone day, — 'twer plaguy dirty, —
'E zaid 'e'd ride 'pon uncle's Sorrel hoss a bit;
And Sorrel , be-en then a little spir'ty,
When Sam got up, begun to wince, and toss a bit;
Sam grasped his neck, and held en pretty tightish.
I lafe'd jist lik to split me;
And then my lafe'n miade en spitish,
'E zaid 'e woulden very soon forgit me.
At laste, off Samel trotted, bolt upright,
Jolten and jumpen jist lik Billy Button;
By gum, I never zeed a droler zight
Since I wer born alive, as I'm a glutton.

STEPHEN

Lor' how I should a liked to catch a zight o'n,
I warnd ye I'd a had zome fun in spite o'n.

THOMAS

'E hadden rod a hafe a mile, I'm sarten,
Before 'e had a terrable misfarten:
Squire Farquharson wi' al his hunt come by
A'ter a Renard, in vull cry;
And Sorrel , gi'en a vew kicks and tosses,
Took off, a gallop, a'ter t'other hosses.
Well, ther wer Sorrel , gallopen, an' flingen;
Ther wer Sam cluose to his me-ane a clingen;
'Till perny, comen to a mudhole,
Sam pitched off slap into a puddle!
'Dhang my buttons! ther wer rigs!
'E spwiled his brigs!
Never wer sich fun before,
Since mud wer mud, and brigs wer wore.

STEPHEN

If I'd a had a crown-piece I'd a gi'ed en
Jist to a bin ther at the time, and zeed en;
He diden know the woy to ride a hoss, I s'pose;
Why 'twer the vust e'd ever ben across I s'pose;
'E diden want noo muore sich bumps and knocks,
He had enough, I warndy, o' the fox.

THOMAS

Oone day 'e went into the grouns wi' I,
'E zaid 'e would a bit to zee the cattle,
The yearlen bull jist glanced en wi' his eye,
And jumped and scriaped, as if e'd gi'en battle.
Poor Samel bolted perty quickish;
The bull went a'ter; bellowen, an' scrapen;
And Samel, hopen var to 'sciape en,
Jumped up into a hedge, a little thickish.
His mianen wer to git in t'other vield;
But howsomever, in the scramble,
The girt thick briars woulden yield,
And Sam wer hung up in a bramble!
'Dhang my buttons ther wer rigs!

STEPHEN

'E tore his brigs?

THOMAS

'Ees Samel's dandy clothes begun to rent.
By gum 'e looked jist lik a jack-o'-lint.

STEPHEN

I should a lafe'd to zee'n: 'e runned, I'm bound
As vast as he could lay his lags to ground.
They cockneys that do think therzelves so cunnen,
Be noggerheads when they be out o' Lon'on.
Why they can't tell a cheese vat vrom a paiel;
Or how to use a pitch vark, or a flaiel:
They wi' ther dandy cuoats, and bows, and scrapes,
Be only fit to walk about lik yapes.

THOMAS

Oone day, 'e went wi' I to zee the sheep;
'E zaid 'e'd goo and zee em, lambs, and al:
And zoo 'e stood agaien the gert dung heap
That uncle had a drowed agaien the wall.
When Samel zeed the vuddled lamb,
'E zaid 'e thought en tightish mutton;
The lamb, not understanden Sam,
Come up determinen to butt en,
Zoo on 'e come, wi' many a frisk and le-ap,
An' butted Sam into the gert dung he-ap!
'Dhang my buttons! ther wer rigs again!

STEPHEN

'E spurled his brigs again?

THOMAS

'Ees never wer sich fun before,
Zince mud wer mud and brigs wer wore.