There's plenty o' room for us all to mend, an' them 'at set abaat it
sooinest are likely to be perfect furst; at ony rate, if we try it'll show
willin'.
Disapointment.
"Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall
net be disappointed."
Aw once knew a chap they called old Sammy; he used ta gaa wi a
donkey, an th' mooast remarkable things abaat him wor his clogs an'
his rags. Sammy had niver been wed, tho' he war fifty years old, but
it wor allus believed he'd managed ta save a bit a' brass. One day he
war gain up Hepenstull Bunk, Jenny o' Jooans a' th' Long Lover wor
goin up befoor him, an' whether it wor at her clogs were made a' his
favrite pattern, or her ancles had summat abaat 'em different to what
he'd iver seen befoor, aw cannot tell, but it seems a feelin coom
ovver him all at once, sich as he'd niver had befoor, an' when he'd
managed ta overtak her, he sed, "It's loaning for heeat aw think,
Jenny." "Eea, aw think its likely for bein wut," shoo sed. "Awve
just been thinkin," sed Sammy, "at if I wornt na a single old chap,
aw shouldn't have to trail up an' daan in a lot a' rags like thease,
for awm sure this jacket has hardly strength to hing o' mi rig, an'
mi britches are soa full o' hoils wol awm feeared sometimes when awm
puttin em on, at awst tummel throo an braik my neck.
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