A Pointer.

Just listen to mi stooary lads,     It's one will mak yo grieve;     It's full ov sich strange incidents;     Yo hardly can believe.     That lass aw cooarted, went one neet     Aght walkin wi' a swell;     They ovvertuk me on mi way,     An this is what befell.     They tuk me for a finger pooast;     Aw stood soa varry still;     An daan they set beside me,     Just at top o' Beacon Hill.     He sed shoo wor his deary;     Shoo sed he wor her pet;     'Twor an awkward sittiwation     Which aw shall'nt sooin forget.     Aw stood straight up at top o'th' hill, -     They set daan at mi feet;     He hugged her up soa varry cloise,     Aw thowt ther lips must meet.     He sed he loved wi' all his heart,     Shoo fainted reight away;     Aw darsn't luk, - aw darsn't start,     But aw wished misen away.     They tuk me for, &c.     He bathed her temples from the brook;     He sed shoo wor his life,     It made me queer, becoss aw'd sworn     To mak that lass mi wife.     Shoo coom araand, an ligg'd her heead,     Upon his heavin breast;     An then shoo skriked, an off aw ran,     But aw cannot tell the rest.     They tuk me for, &c.     They wedded wor, sooin after that,     Aw thowt mi heart wod braik; -     It didn't, - soa aw'm livin on,     An freeatin for her sake.     But sweet revenge, - it coom at last,     For childer shoo had three,     An they're all marked wi' a finger pooast     Whear it didn't owt to be.     They tuk me for, &c.