“My dog has gotten zitch a trick
      To visit moids when thauy be zick;
      When thauy be zick and like to die,
      Oh, thether gwoes my dog and I.

     “My dog is good to catch a hen,—­
      A duck and goose is vood vor men;
      And where good company I spy,
      Oh, thether gwoes my dog and I.

     “Droo aal the world, owld Gaarge would bwoast,
      Commend me to merry owld England mwoast;
      While vools gwoes scramblin’ vur and nigh,
      We bides at whoam, my dog and I.

     “Ov their furrin tongues let travellers brag,
      Wi’ their vifteen neames vor a puddin’ bag;
      Two tongues I knows ne’er towld a lie,
      And their wearers be my dog and I.

     “My mwother told I when I wur young,
      If I did vollow the strong beer pwoot,
      That drenk would pruv my auverdrow,
      And meauk me wear a thzreadbare cwoat.

     “When I hev dree zixpences under my thumb,
      Oh, then I be welcome wherever I qeum;
      But when I hev none, oh, then I pass by,—­
      ’Tis poverty pearts good company.

     “When I gwoes dead, as it may hap,
      My greauve shall be under the good yeal tap
      In vouled earms there wool us lie,
      Cheek by jowl, my dog and I.”

GLOSSARY.

stwuns = stones. quaar = quarry. yare = hair. avoor = before. auwn = own. furrin = foreign. greauve = grave. thauy = they. yead = head. mead = made. dree = three. pleace = place. pwoot = pewter. yeal = ale. qeum = come. graw’d = grew. braags = brag. zshou’d = should. beass = bass. auverdrow = overthrow. vouled earms = folded arms. zitch = such.

The song itself is as old as the hills, but I have taken the liberty of appending a glossary, in order that my readers may be spared the trouble of making out the meaning of some of the words.  It was a long time before it dawned upon me that “vouled earms” meant “folded arms “; “auverdrow” likewise was very perplexing.  Like many of the old ballads, it sounds like a rigmarole from beginning to end; but there is really a great deal more in it than meets the eye.  George Ridler is no less a personage than King Charles I., and the oven represents the cavalier party. (See Appendix.)

Such songs as these are deeply interesting from the fact that they are handed down by oral tradition from father to son, and written copies are never seen in the villages.  The same applies to the play the mummers act at Christmas-time; all has to be learnt from the preceding generation of country folk.  But the great feature of our smoking concerts and village entertainments has always been the reading of Tom Peregrine.  This noted sportsman, who writes one of the best hands I ever saw, has kindly copied out a recitation he