EAWR SARAH'S GETTEN A CHAP by Sam Fitton (1868 - 1923)

      
Eh, dear; there's bin some change in
Eawr heause this week or two;
Wheer once there used to be a din
It's like a Sunday schoo';
We never feight for apple pie,
We very seldom frap;
An' what d'ye think's the reason why?
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

Eawr fender shines just like a bell,
We'n had it silvered o' er;
An' th' cat appears to wesh itsel'
Moor often than before;
Eawr little Nathan's wiped his nose,
Eawr Jimmy's brushed his cap;
An' o this fuss is just becose
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He's one o' thoose young "nutty" men,
They sen he's brass an' o,
My mother's apron's allus clen,
For fear he gives a co;
We'n polished up th' dur knocker, too;
We'r swanky yo' con tell;
But Sarah says it winno do,
We'st ha' to have a bell.

We bowt a carpet t'other neet,
To wear it seems a sin;
My feyther has to wipe his feet
Before he dar' come in;
He never seems a'whoam someheaw,
He says he's noan on th' map;
He allus wears a collar neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

We'n serviettes neaw when we dine;
A brand new bib for Ben;
Eawr Fanny's started talkin' fine,
Wi' lumps in neaw an' then,
Sin' Sarah geet her fancy beau
Hoo fairly cocks her chin;
Hoo has a bottom drawer an' o
To keep her nick-nacks in.

Hoo's wantin' this, an' wantin' that,
Hoo thinks we're made o' brass;
Hoo goes to th' factory in her hat,
Hoo says ut it's moar class;
Hoo's bucked my feyther up shuzheaw,
He darno' weara cap;
He gets his 'bacco chepper neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He comes o' courtin' every neet,
He fills eawr cat wi' dread;
He's sky-blue gaiters on his feet,
An' hair-oil on his yed;
He likes to swank about an' strut
An' talk abeawt his "biz";
He's "summat in an of fice," but
I don't know what it is.

His socks are crimson lined wi' blue,
I weesh he'd do a guyi
I weesh he'd pop the question, too,
Or pop his yallow tie;
My feyther darno' raise a row,
An' th' childer darno' scrap;
We feel to live i' lodgin's neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He's put eawr household in a whirl,
He's sich a howlin' swell;
I weesh he'd find another girl,
Or goo an' loose hissel';
Eawr parrot's gone an' cocked its toes,
Eawr roosters conno' flap;
We'er gooin' daft an' o becose
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.