.Nw.OTY4

I cold tell tha a masshes of stories about en But tha answered so tuttish & shrimpst up tha nose A gissing twor greet shomming Lies I suppose But there's one of 20 pranks I shall always remember Twill be three years ago come the eighth of November I'd two pretty young Mabbies as eyes cud behold So fat as the Butter, just heen weeks old That were pecking about in the townplace for meat So I hove down some fellas amongst mun to eat When who but your man com'd a totting along So a drunk, that i thost fath, wd fale in the dung A Left tremble es Hoggan bag just by the door So a I caled to tha man as one woud to be shoor Seys I. Martyr! dust hire Cheeld? teak up the bag Amea says a for what beest calling me da Dog and dreebd forth towards ma, nar better nar wurs Veach'd the Mabjers voth stiff we a great maur of fuss Like enow If I hadn't shov'd heastis away Ad a done as a ded to Ian Rous to ther day Wher a got in his Tantrums a wilful ould devil Aslammd the pore sole on the head with a Yevil Fath and Soul then un Greasy ef so be a dont alter I blieve a mun corshuner el swing en a halter

Greacy

When the Leater es runnd away every drop Tis too lat to be thenking of plugging the top. And marrige must go as the Lord do ordain But a passor wud swear to be usd so Cheeld Vean.