I mill a bit, I till a bit,
I dee all maks ’o jobs,
Frae followin’ ploos and hollowin’ coos
To mendin’ chairs and squabs.[1]
Oh! folks they laugh and girn at me,
I niver tak it ill;
If I’s the Jack ’o ivery trade,
They all bring grist to t’ mill.
I tend my hunderd yakker farm,
An’ milk my Kyloe kye.
I’ve Lincoln yowes an’ Leicester tups
An’ twenty head ’o wye.[2]
I’ve stirks to tak to Scarbro’ mart,
I’ve meers for farmers’ gigs;
And oh! I wish that you could see
My laatle sookin’ pigs.