She sung a song....Me 'eart, wiv woe carst down,
Wus raised to 'Eaven be a woman's smile.



VIII. Mar


"'Er pore dear par," she sez, "'e kept a store";
An' then she weeps an' stares 'ard at the floor.
"'Twas thro' 'is death," she sez, "we wus rejuiced
To this," she sez...An' then she weeps some more.

"'Er Par," she sez, "me poor late 'usband, kept
An 'ay an' corn store. 'E'd no faults ixcept
'Im fallin' 'eavy orf a load o' charf
W'ich--killed 'im--on the---" 'Struth! But 'ow she wept.

She blows 'er nose an' sniffs. "'E would 'a' made"
She sez "a lot of money in the trade.
But, 'im took orf so sudden-like, we found
'E 'adn't kept 'is life insurince paid.

"To think," she sez, "a child o' mine should be
Rejuiced to workin' in a factory!
If 'er pore Par 'e 'adn't died," she sobs...
I sez, "It wus a bit o' luck for me."

Then I gits red as 'ell, "That is--I mean,"
I sez, "I mighter never met Doreen