O, shoo left me in a hig,
   An’ shoo didn’t care a fig,
   But nah aw’ll donce a jig,
      For mi love’s come back. 
   An’ aw know though far away,
   ’At her heart neer went astray,
   An’ awst iver bless the day,
      For mi love’s come back.

   When shoo ax’d me yesterneet
   What made mi heart so leet,
   Aw says, “why can’t ta see it’s
      ’Coss mi love’s come back.” 
   Then aw gave her just a kiss,
   An’ shoo tuk it noan amiss
   An’ aw’m feear’d aw’st brust wi’ bliss,
      For mi love’s come back.

   Nah aw’m gooin to buy a ring,
   An’ a creddle an’ a swing,
   Ther’s noa tellin what may spring,
      For mi’ love’s come back. 
   O, aw niver thowt befoor
   ‘At sich joy could be i’ stoor,
   But nah aw’l grieve noa moor,
      For mi love’s come back.

As mud ha been expected, they applauded Ike famously, but th’ cheerman wor hard asleep agean, an’ it tuk a gooid shakkin to wakken him, an’ then he didn’t seem to be altogether thear, an’ as sooin as they left him aloan he dropt on agean.

“Aw think th’ cheerman’s ommost sewed up,” sed Ike.  “Net he! he’s noan sewed up,” sed Mosslump, “it’s that song o’ thine ’at’s sent him to sleep! who the shames does ta think could keep wakken for sich a song as that? aw knew tha’d do it as sooin as aw heeard thi begin.”  “Come, aw’ll sing thee for a quairt any day,” sed Ike, “tha fancies coss tha’d once a uncle ’at could sing a bit, ‘at ther’s some mewsic born i’ thee; but if aw’d a public haase aw wodn’t let thee sing in it for a paand, for aw’ll bet tha’d turn all th’ ale saar.”  “Tha am’t worth tawkin to, Ike, an’ as for thee havin a voice, Why! tha arn’t fit to hawk cockles an’ mussels.”  “Well, an if aw did hawk ’em aw’d tak gooid care aw didn’t sell thee ony unless aw gate th’ brass befoorhand, soa tha can crack that nut.”  “Does ta mean to say ’at aw dooant pay mi way? aw’ve moor brass commin in ivery day nor tha can addle in a wick.”  Aw saw it luk’d likely for a row brewin, soa aw sed, “nah chaps, we’ve had a verry nice evening soa far, an’ aw shouldn’t like ony unpleasantness, for yo see th’ cheerman’s had a drop too much, an’ aw think we owt to try to get him hooam if ony body knows wheear he lives.”  “Eea!” sed one chap ’at had been varry quite all th’ neet, “aw dooant think he’ll pay for owt ony moor, soa we mud as weel get shut on him.”  “Ther’s Frank standin’ at th’ corner,” sed another “aw dar say he’ll tak him.”  “Who’s Frank, aw asked.”  “O, it’s a donkey ‘at they call Frank,” sed Ike, “th’ chap ‘at bowt him had him kursened Frank i’ honor o’ Frank Crossley bein made a member o’ parliment.”  “Varry weel,” aw sed, “then let’s get him onto it.”  One or two came to give a lift, an’ wi’ a bit o’ trouble we gate him aghtside.  Th’ donkey wor thear, but as ther wor a gurt milk can o’ each side on it, aw couldn’t see exactly ha to put this chap on.  “O,” sed Ike, “he’ll