That’s all their discoorse I remember, for thin, as sure as I’m born,
It was Rexy’s bark that I heard--no other baste’s, I’ll be sworn:
And I couldn’t tell ye the pleasure I tuk in’t, for somehow the sound
Seemed givin’ a nathural feel to whatever I seen around.
And I just was thinkin’: ‘It’s mad wid joy, poor Rexy, he’d be if he knew
There was wan of us come from th’ ould place at home’--whin, och wirrasthrew,
All in a minute I opened me eyes where I lay on the floor,
An’ the child was keenin’ away, an’ the wind moanin’ under the door,
An’ the puddle was freezed by the hearth, that hadn’t a spark to show,
An’ outside in the could daylight the air was a-flutther wid snow,
An’ the black bank sthraked wid white like the bars on a magpie’s wing--
For sorra a word o’ thruth was in’t, an’ I’d nought but dhramed the thing.