Classic Poem

Says a wag to a porter i’ Haworth one day,
“Yahr not ower sharp ye drones o’t’railway,
For fra Keighley to Haworth I’ve been oft enough,
But nivver a hawpenny I’ve paid ye begoff.”

The porter replied, “I vary mitch daht it,
But I’ll give a quart to hear all about it;
For it looks plain to me tha cuddant pass t’snicket,
Baht tipping to t’porter thy pass or thy ticket.”

“Tha’ll write up to Derby an’ then tha’ll deceive me”;
“I willn’t, this time,” sed t’porter, “believe me”:
“Then aght wi thy brass, an’ let us be knocking,
For I’ve walk’d it on foot, by t’Cross Roads an’ t’ Bocking.”