["In several instances last week the prices for new wheat
were quoted at 16_s._ to 19_s._ per quarter in Lincolnshire and
Yorkshire, and the general average for the whole country last
week was actually only 27_s._ 7_d._ It is over two hundred years
since anything like so low a price has been quoted for wheat in
England."--_Westminster Gazette._]
_Farmer (throwing down newspaper)._
Dubbut loook at the waäste! Foine feälds? A' dear! a' dear!
'Tisn't worth nowt a haäcre; 'tis worse than it wur laäst year!
_Ceres (entering)._
Good evening, Farmer, my friend! I think you will own this time
I have sent you a golden harvest. I never saw wheat more prime!
_Farmer._
And who ma' _yew_ beä, Marm? And what dost tha meän, Marm--_yew_?
I weänt say tha be a loiar, but tha say'st what's nawways true.
_Ceres._
Why, I am the farmer's friend, the goddess of farms and fields.
At my look the furrows spring, and my laugh the harvest yields.
_Farmer._
Then wheer' asta beän saw long, leäven me a-liggin' aloän?
Friend? Thoort nowt o' a friend, leävin' meä to groomble and groän.
_Ceres._
Why, what is the matter now? You've a bumper harvest, men say,
The wheat and the barley show fair, and likewise the oats and the hay!
_Farmer._
_Thee_ be the goddess o' feälds? Oh, a prutty goddess tha beäst!
Seems to meä tha knaws nowt, and tha beänt na use, not the leäst.
Naw soort o' koind o' use to saäy the things that ya do!
Goddess? My owd lass BESS wur a better goddess than yew!
Sartin-sewer I be if 'tis theä and thet Clerk o' the Weather
Arranges the craps and things, ye're a pair o' toättlers together!
_Ceres._
That is ungrateful, Farmer! Just glance at those golden sheaves!
Phoebus and I have done it, yet who in our love believes?
_Farmer._
Luvv it ma beä, but I reckons tha'st boäth o' tha mooch to larn.
Whut good o' a full-sheäved feäld, whut good o' a full-choked barn,
If markets beänt no better, but woorse--as the chap saays here--
Than they have beän in Owd England fur well-neigh two oonderd year?
_Ceres._