Eclogue:--Father Come Hwome
_John,
Wife,
an'
Child._
CHILD.
O
mother,
mother!
be
the
teäties
done?
Here's
father
now
a-comèn
down
the
track,
Hes
got
his
nitch
o'
wood
upon
his
back,
An'
such
a
speäker
in
en!
I'll
be
bound,
He's
long
enough
to
reach
vrom
ground
Up
to
the
top
ov
ouer
tun;
'Tis
jist
the
very
thing
vor
Jack
an'
I
To
goo
a-colepecksèn
wi'
by
an'
by.
WIFE.
The
teäties
must
be
ready
pretty
nigh;
Do
teäke
woone
up
upon
the
fork'
an'
try.
The
ceäke
upon
the
vier,
too,
's
a-burnèn,
I
be
afeärd:
do
run
an'
zee,
an'
turn
en.
JOHN.
Well,
mother!
here
I
be
woonce
mwore,
at
hwome.
WIFE.
Ah!
I
be
very
glad
you
be
a-come.
You
be
a-tired
an'
cwold
enough,
I
s'pose;
Zit
down
an'
rest
your
bwones,
an'
warm
your
nose.
JOHN.
Why
I
be
nippy:
what
is
there
to
eat?
WIFE.
Your
supper's
nearly
ready.
I've
a
got
Some
teäties
here
a-doèn
in
the
pot;
I
wish
wi'
all
my
heart
I
had
some
meat.
I
got
a
little
ceäke
too,
here,
a-beäken
o'n
Upon
the
vier.
'Tis
done
by
this
time
though.
He's
nice
an'
moist;
vor
when
I
wer
a-meäken
o'n
I
stuck
some
bits
ov
apple
in
the
dough.
CHILD.
Well,
father;
what
d'ye
think?
The
pig
got
out
This
mornèn;
an'
avore
we
zeed
or
heärd
en,
He
run
about,
an'
got
out
into
geärden,
An'
routed
up
the
groun'
zoo
wi'
his
snout!
JOHN.
Now
only
think
o'
that!
You
must
contrive
To
keep
en
in,
or
else
he'll
never
thrive.
CHILD.
An'
father,
what
d'ye
think?
I
voun'
to-day
The
nest
where
thik
wold
hen
ov
our's
do
lay:
'Twer
out
in
orcha'd
hedge,
an'
had
vive
aggs.
WIFE.
Lo'k
there:
how
wet
you
got
your
veet
an'
lags!
How
did
ye
get
in
such
a
pickle,
Jahn?
JOHN.
I
broke
my
hoss,
an'
been
a-fwo'ced
to
stan'
All's
day
in
mud
an'
water
vor
to
dig,
An'
meäde
myzelf
so
wetshod
as
a
pig.
CHILD.
Father,
teäke
off
your
shoes,
then
come,
and
I
Will
bring
your
wold
woones
vor
ye,
nice
an'
dry.
WIFE.
An'
have
ye
got
much
hedgèn
mwore
to
do?
JOHN.
Enough
to
last
vor
dree
weeks
mwore
or
zoo.
WIFE.
An'
when
y'ave
done
the
job
you
be
about,
D'ye
think
you'll
have
another
vound
ye
out?
JOHN.
O
ees,
there'll
be
some
mwore:
vor
after
that,
I
got
a
job
o'
trenchèn
to
goo
at;
An'
then
zome
trees
to
shroud,
an'
wood
to
vell,--
Zoo
I
do
hope
to
rub
on
pretty
well
Till
zummer
time;
an'
then
I
be
to
cut
The
wood
an'
do
the
trenchèn
by
the
tut.
CHILD.
An'
nex'
week,
father,
I'm
a-gwaïn
to
goo
A-pickèn
stwones,
d'ye
know,
vor
Farmer
True.
WIFE.
An'
little
Jack,
you
know,
's
a-gwaïn
to
eärn
A
penny
too,
a-keepèn
birds
off
corn.
JOHN.
O
brave!
What
wages
do
'e
meän
to
gi'e?
WIFE.
She
dreppence
vor
a
day,
an'
twopence
he.
JOHN.
Well,
Polly;
thou
must
work
a
little
spracker
When
thou
bist
out,
or
else
thou
wu'ten
pick
A
dungpot
lwoad
o'
stwones
up
very
quick.
CHILD.
Oh!
yes
I
shall.
But
Jack
do
want
a
clacker:
An'
father,
wull
ye
teäke
an'
cut
A
stick
or
two
to
meäke
his
hut.
JOHN.
You
wench!
why
you
be
always
up
a-baggèn.
I
be
too
tired
now
to-night,
I'm
sure,
To
zet
a-doèn
any
mwore:
Zoo
I
shall
goo
up
out
o'
the
way
o'
the
waggon.
