Ben and the Butter

You’ve heerd thic tale afor ? well, I beant zurprized at that, Of the man as stoal tha butter, and put et in hes hat : But mebby you’ll excuse ma, ef I tells tha tale agean, Vor thic varmer wer my fiathcr, and thic very man wer Ben. ‘ Ben had been churmin aal tha daay, Churmin, and churmin, and churmin

Churmin, and churmin, and churmin awaay : Vor tha weather wer cowld, and hes vengers wer num, And the butter oncommonly loath to come ; Zlow and shour like a miser’s cash, The churm went round, and the craim went splash ; And tha daay went by, and tay-time past, And tha butter com’d fiumpity fiump at last. Now Ben, as I zed, wer a hongry oaf, And moor than a match vor a quartern looaf, But whether tha bread wer white or brown, Ben liked zome butter to towl et down, Ben awpend the churm, and luk’d about, And tha eooast wer clear, and tha missus wer out ; Zo a tuk o’ tha butter a beggish pat, And stufi’d et into hos owld velt hat ; But ‘ad skeersly pop’d hes yead into et, When fiather com’d in, and zeed un do et. Now tha daay wer past, and work wer done, And fiather wer up vor 8. bit of fun.

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