Ye Talk Aboot Cheps Bein Bashful.
Teun-"Varry Canny."

Ye may talk aboot cheps bein bashful, aw say,
But thor's nyen that aw've seen like wor Neddy,
Tho' a canny young chep iv his awn quiet way,
An' byeth sober, gud-hearted, an' stiddy;
He'd behave he'sel reet i' the cumpny o' men,
But wi' lasses, whey man, he wes frighten'd,
For he'd stammer an' stutter, an' blush like a bairn,
The least notis his narvishness heighten'd
Noo ye talk aboot cheps bein bashful.

He courted fat Nan, at least she courted him,
She's a greet big stoot las, wi' ne shyness,
But a real handy hoose-keeper, honest an' trim,
Wiv a tung that myeks up for Ned's dryness;
She knew if she waited he'd nivvor propose,
So te start frae the forst as the best un,
One fine neet she popt a kiss under his nose,
An' then she te him popt the question.
Noo ye talk aboot cheps bein bashful.

Of coorse Ned conseted, he cuddent say No!
An' the Register Office he mention'd,
He thowt 'twad be private, he diddent like show,
Espeshly when tyekin a wench in't;
But that morning before half the sarvis wes deun,
A' the neybors cum croodin an' puishin,
An' cheerin the pair all the way they did run,
The bride smiled, but the bridegroom wes blushin.
Noo ye talk aboot cheps ein bashful.

At hyem, Ned sat up if a corner, as grim
As if 'twes a funeral party,
An' he thowt tiv he'sel that they waddent miss him,
'Mang as mony se jovial an' hearty;
So at neet when he fund all the cump'ny gawn,
Efter mony boos, scrapins an dodgins,
He thowt it wad be best te follow thor plan,
So he hurried away tiv his lodgins.
No ye talk aboot cheps being bashful.

Next morning, he thowt ti wad only be reet
Te call an' see hoo his wife fettled,
Says she, "Noo, Ned, where did yeget te last neet?"
Ye may a' lay yor life she was nettled!
"What's the reason ye left us last neet be myself?
Aw's yor wife, but ye myest myek us doot it!'
Says he, "If aw'd stopt, an' the neybors heard tell,
De ye not think they'd all talk'd aboot it?"
Noo ye talk aboot cheps bein bashful.

Says she, "If the neybors knew ye war away,
For talking they'd hev a gud reason,
An' if aw hevint a mind te believe what ye say,
Sum uther lass ye might be squezin."
Efter this, cud Ned help but te stop biv her side,
An' twelve months efter hoo his ey glisten'd,
When the Queen, canny body, sent doon tiv his bride,
Three pund for three bairns as a prisint!
Noo ye talk aboot cheps bein bashful.

-Joe Wilson