Dad's Lad.

Little patt'rin, clatt'rin feet,     Runnin raand throo morn to neet;     Banishin mi mornin's nap, -     Little bonny, noisy chap, -     But aw can't find fault yo see, -     For he's Dad's lad an he loves me.     He loves his mother withaat daat,     Tho' shoo gies him monny a claat;     An he says, "Aw'll tell mi Dad,"     Which ov coorse maks mother mad;     Then he snoozles on her knee,     For shoo loves him 'coss shoo loves me.     He's a bother aw'll admit,     But he'll alter in a bit;     An when older grown, maybe,     He'll a comfort prove to me,     An mi latter days mak glad,     For aw know he's Daddy's lad.     If he's aght o' sect a minnit,     Ther's some mischief, an he's in it,     When he's done it then he'll flee;     An for shelter comes to me.     What can aw do but shield my lad?     For he's my pet an aw'm his Dad.     After a day's hard toil an care,     Sittin in mi rockin chair;     Nowt mi wearied spirit charms,     Like him nestlin i' mi arms,     An noa music is as sweet,     As his patt'rin, clatt'rin feet.