Ah telt oor Gwordie t’ udder daay
    He betther nut com’ yham,
Fwoakes can’t git butther here fur paay,
    Back-end we meade nea jam.

And barn wi’ eggs at saxpence each
    An’ tea sea mutch a pund,
For lads as hungered as a leech
    A meal can scearse be fund.

An’ tho’ a melder o’ gude meal
    Ligs still widin the kist,
Poddish he nivver supped a deal
    And haver-bread ne’er mist.

But what he wreat us back-oor lad,
    “Naay! Cursmas time is near,
Ah’d rayder starve at yham, tell Dad,
    Then hev’ a kite-full here.”

“Fur hunger is nut aw for food
    Ah’s hungered for the Fells,
For Skidder breeast and Darren fluid
    And soound o’ Crostet bells.”

“And sea tho’ fwoakes may ca’ me daft,
    Ah’s com yance mair to sea
T’auld fwoake at yham;” and fadder laft,
    “That lad’s the lad for mea!”

(Carlisle Journal, 1917, 28 December, p. 7)