Mrs. Green.  Ah, ’t was well.

Mrs. S.  But I feel strange, and music gets i’ my throat,
It always did.  And singers be so smart,
Ladies and folk from other parishes,
Candles and cheering, greens and flowers and all
I was not used to such in my young day;
We kept ourselves at home.

Mrs. J.  Never say ‘used,’
The most of us have many a thing to do
We were not used to.  If you come to that,
Why none of us are used to growing old,
It takes us by surprise, as one may say,
That work, when we begin ’t, and yet ’t is work
That all of us must do.

  Mrs. G.  Nay, nay, not all.

  Mrs. J.  I ask your pardon, neighbour; you be right.  Not all.

  Mrs. G.  And my sweet maid scarce three months dead.

  Mrs. J.  I ask your pardon truly.

Mrs. G.  No, my dear, Thou’lt never see old days.  I cannot stint To fret, the maiden was but twelve years old, So toward, such a scholar.

Mrs. S. Ay, when God, That knows, comes down to choose, He’ll take the best.

Mrs. T. But I’m right glad you came, it pleases them.  My son, that loves his book, ‘Mother,’ said he, ’Go to the Reading when you have a chance, For there you get a change, and you see life.’  But Reading or no Reading, I am slow To learn.  When parson after comes his rounds, ‘Did it,’ to ask with a persuading smile, ‘Open your mind?’ the woman doth not live Feels more a fool.

Mrs. J. I always tell him ‘Yes,’ For he means well.  Ay, and I like the songs.  Have you heard say what they shall read to-night?

Mrs. S..  Neighbour, I hear ’tis something of the East.  But what, I ask you, is the East to us, And where d’ye think it lies?

Mrs. J. The children know, At least they say they do; there’s nothing deep Nor nothing strange but they get hold on it.

Enter Schoolmaster and a dozen children.

S. Now ladies, ladies, you must please to sit
More close; the room fills fast, and all these lads
And maidens either have to sing before
The Reading, or else after.  By your leave
I’ll have them in the front, I want them here.

[The women make room.

Enter ploughmen, villagers, servants, and children.

And mark me, boys, if I hear cracking o’ nuts,
Or see you flicking acorns and what not
While folks from other parishes observe,
You’ll hear on it when you don’t look to.  Tom
And Jemmy and Roger, sing as loud’s ye can,
Sing as the maidens do, are they afraid? 
And now I’m stationed handy facing you,
Friends all, I’ll drop a word by your good leave.

Young ploughman. Do, master, do, we like your words a vast.  Though there be nought to back ’em up, ye see, As when we were smaller.