Tom! Tom! What yer think?
I've 'ed the Parson's wife
The first time in 'er life, acrost our door!
What for?
What for? Why Tom, you'd niver niver guess!
Not if you lived as old as Grammer Bess
What's lately swore
She's a hunder an' four—
She wants us two, to go off an' git spliced!
Oh Christ!
What's got 'er now:
The cow!
You well may swear;
Coz 'ow she dare—an' why—
Will make you swear agen, or laugh—surelie!
Just light yer pipe
Now you look comfortable—so
You're rough—old Tom—I know—
Black as a crow!
But I'm fond on yer lad
As any fool could see!
An' whether we're good or bad
You've bin maain good ter me.
But—blast 'er silly eyes!
What yer say to 'er, then?
I said a lot!
I telled 'er what!
A-comin' ere wi' 'er fancy airs,
'Er what's never known no cares,
Lookin' that wise—
Just coz she catched a Parson!
[An' noa great shaakes ayther—
She'd nowt of a feyther
While 'er half-brother run away to sea
An' took to blue water
Wi' their ole cook's daughter]
'You talk of "sin" an' "shame,"' I sez, 'to me?
You talks just like a fool
Or a silly bairn at school
Coz nobody about could doubt,
But what we're happy together him an' me;
Just look,' I sez, 'at any in this street
What couple can you find about to beat
My Tom an' me what's bin together years,
Happy an' comfortable;
Never noa serious trouble—
Nuthin' I mean to set us by the ears—
Good reason why!'
I sez—sez I—
'Coz we're a free an' equal pair;
We got to treat each other fair
Or else we part.'
Well said now Missus! That were smart!
'To part!' sez she, 'lookin' all down her noaz,
'Ow could you leave your hoam wi' childer three?'
I sez—sez I—'that dudn't bother me
Coz I can earn enough for food an' cloaz.
I can maintain 'em by mysen,' sez I,
'An' would at any time o' day.
I'm not a slave—an' anyway
I'd manage if I 'ed to do,
I'm not a slave,' I sez, 'like you!'
You didn't—Come!—
I did—I did!
I meant it too.
'If your man turns up stunt,' sez I,
'You can't goa off, or let him fly;
You can't maintain yoursen—not you!—
Lettin' aloan the bairns, you 'aint!'
(That made her squirm all down her back!)
''Ow could you wok up on a stack?
Or yok a hoss or bake or wesh;
If your man drinks or starts to thresh
You couldn't leave him coz he holds yer:
You're tied by laws and friends what scolds yer;
Yer ain't like me, as free as air.
I'm not afraid whoever stare,
Nayther is Tom!
We minds oursens
An' thinks noa more of foaks than hens,
Coz if I doant behave mysen—
Or him—
We parts!—
Why doant we?
Why?
Becoz we're free an' happy here,
Becoz we treats each other fair!'
You giv 'er the rough o' yer tongue, old gel,
But—what a sell!
Comin' 'ere to ride rough shod
Coz she's a 'wife.'
Why—bless my life
She doesn't know she's born;
She couldn't find her own corn!
I sent 'er off wi' a flea in 'er ear!
An' will again if she dost come near!
But she weant!
The white faced critter—
Wi' a noaz like a knife
An' a smile that bitter
As if she would kill.
A wife!
What does she know of life?—
Nowt!
Nor ever will!—
But tomorrer's Sunday
An' we'll go to Church!
What?
Yes! Just for once; an' sit together,
Like birds of a feather!
We aint ashamed to show our faces
To them what thinks we be disgraces.
We'll goa together Tom—for sure
We'll goa this once an' then noa more—
If you be willin'?
Aye lass—I'm willin'—
I'll back you up as I've allers done,
Agen Parson's wife or anyone.
Aye; agen all the country round,
Coz you're as good as could be found—
An' now—old gel—it's omost eight,
Come on—yer know we moant be late,
Off to the Ship for our glass of aale;
This yarn of yourn'll make a taale!
What's that—yer bunnet?
All rate ... be quick—
I'll wait for yer agen the gate.