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“MY FIRST PAIR O’ BRITCHES”

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Aw remember the days o’ mi bell-button jacket,

Wi’ its little lappels hangin’ dahn ower mi waist;

And mi grand bellosed cap—noan nicer, I’ll back it—

Fer her et hed bowt it wor noan without taste;

Fer shoo wor mi mother, an’ I wor her darlin’,

And offen sho vowed it, an’ stroked dahn mi’ hair;

An’ sho tuke me ta see her relations i’ Harden,

I’t’ first pair o’ britches ’at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember the time when Aunt Betty an’ Alice

Sent fer me up ta lewk at mi clooas,

An’ aw walked up as prahd as a Frenchman fra Calais,

Wi’ mi tassel at side, i’ mi jacket a rose,

Aw sooin saw mi uncles, both Johnny and Willy,

They both gav’ me pennies an’ off aw did steer;

But aw heeard ’em say this, “He’s a fine lad is Billy,

I’t’ first pair o’ britches ’at ivver he ware.”

Aw remember one Sabbath, an’t’ sun it wor shinin’,

Aw went wi mi father ta Hainworth ta sing,

An’t’ stage wor hung raand wi’ green cotton linin’,

An’t’ childer i’ white made t’village ta ring.

We went to old Mecheck’s that day to wur drinkin’,

Tho’ poor ther were plenty, an’ summat ta spare;

Says Mecheck, “That lad, Jim, is just thee awm thinkin’,

I’t’ first pair o’ britches ’at ivver tha ware.”

Adventures and Recollections

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