But they’d a sad mishap one neet, for it seems th’ owd woman had been bakin, and shoo forgate to mention it, soa when th’ furst chap gate hold o’ th’ oven door hannel he burn’d his fingers, an’ becos tother students lafft he sed they’d done it o’ purpose; an’ it led to a reglar fratch, an’ he gate into sich a rage ’at he sed he’d swallow one on em, if he did’nt hold his din, an’ it wod’nt be th’ furst porter he’d swallow’d nawther!  Soa th’ taicher tell’d him ’at sich like carryin on wor varry unporterish, an’ if he brake th’ rules that way he’d have to be taken before th’ inspector.  But nowt could quieten him till he gate his fingers rubb’d wi sooap an’ they gave ovver smartin, soa as th’ oven door wor hot they had to practice another pairt.  One on ’em borrowed a wheelbarrow, as they could’nt get a luggage lurry, an’ they had to wheel it up an’ daan th’ haase floor i’ ther turns, callin aght “By leave!” An’ them ‘at could manage to run ovver one o’ th’ tother’s tooas, an’ goa on as if nowt wor, gate one gooid mark, but him at could run buzz agean a chap an’ fell him wor th’ next on th’ list for a guard.  It used to be warm wark boath for him at wor wheelin’ an’ for tothers, but they wor all on ’em bent o’ bein’ porters, soa they tew’d at it, detarmined to maister all th’ ins an’ aghts abaat it.  Whether all ther trouble will be thrown away or net aw connot tell, but ther’s one gooid thing, it keeps’ em aght ov a war turn an’ saves th’ police a deal o’ bother.

But th’ owd fowk dooant like th’ idea; they see noa use i’ bringin sich gurt stinkin things into their district, an’ they’ve detarmined to do all they con to stop it; when a body’s been able to live 60 or 70 year withaat sich like nonsense, they see noa reason why they shouldn’t be let finish their bit o’ time aght quietly.  Ther wor one young lad went to ax his gronfayther if he mud join th’ class, an’ th’ owd chap went varry near into a fit, he luk’d at him for a minit, an’ then he says,

   A’a, Johnny! a’a, Johnny! aw’m sooary for thee! 
   But come thi ways to me, an’ sit o’ mi knee. 
   For it’s shockin’ to hearken to th’ words ’at tha says;—­
   Ther wor nooan sich like things i’ thi gronfayther’s days.

   When aw wor a lad, lads wor lads, tha knows, then,
   But nahdays they owt to be ‘shamed o’ thersen;
   For they smook, an’ they drink, an’ get other bad ways;
   Things wor different once i’thi gronfayther’s days.

   Aw remember th’ furst day aw went coortin’ a bit,
   An’ walked aght thi gronny;—­awst niver forget;
   For we blushed wol us faces wor all in a blaze;—­
   It wor nooa sin to blush i’ thi gronfayther’s days.

   Ther’s nooa lasses nah, John, ’at’s fit to be wed;
   They’ve false teeth i’ ther maath, an’ false hair o’ ther heead: 
   They’re a make-up o’ buckram, an’ waddin’, an’ stays,
   But a lass wor a lass i’ thi gronfayther’s days.

   At that time a tradesman dealt fairly wi th’ poor,
   But nah a fair dealer can’t keep oppen th’ door;
   He’s a fooil if he fails, he’s a scamp if he pays;
   Ther wor honest men lived i’ thi gronfayther’s days.