BOB THE BEUK TRAVELLER

BOB SMITH lost his job, an' he cuddent fall in
Wiv anuther se ready or handy,
So he thowt he wad just try the beuk trav'lin dodge,
An' myek money, an' seun be a dandy;
So he got a big stock frev an agent he knew,
The finest ov ivry edishun,
Then he drest his-sel up iv his best Sunday claes,
An' set off on his wark, on commishun.

He reckond for sartin that myest ov his frinds
Wad give him a greet thumpin order,
For he'd got a collecshun thor fancies te suit,
Byeth the Life 0' Christ, Hist'ry, an' Murder;
But sum had ne money,-an' sum had mair sense
Then te tyek in a beuk wi' ne endin,
Not even wi' them foaks that nivvor pay owt,
Cud Bob myek a bissiniss extendin.

So he went tiv a village not far frae the toon,
Thinks he, "Aw'll be successful yit, man,"
An' the forst time he open'd his parcel o' beuks
Wes i' the hoose ov a canny aud pitman;
He show'd them the pictors te dazzle thor eyes,
An' then tawk'd aboot hist'ry an' hivvin,
But when he had finish'd, the pitman gov thenks
For the sarmin Bob gratis had given.

Then he tried a new tack i' the varry next hoose,
Siclowpeedees noo got Bob's greet praises,
But a gud templor says, "Sic low pee dee's tawk here,
Me man, aw can tell ye 'ill raise us!"
"Next week," says anuther, "ye can bring us Bell's Life,
Or the Sportsman ye may bring us one day,
For them's the two papers aw only tyek in,
An' aw care for nowt else on a Sunday!"

The next hoose he call'd at, nebody cud reed,
An' the bairns nearly spoil'd a' his pietors,
Bob put them away wiv a sad, heavy heart,
An' cursed all his gud-fortun predictors; Says he,
"A job like this wants plenty 0' cheek,
An' for that, whey, just noo aw's not wishin,
But before aw start next aw'Il heh wages put doon,
An' a salary besides a commishun!"

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890