When I was twenty, I didn’t much acre
For your Old Folks’ “Do” and your Xmas fare;
At thirty, I thout it mud dea varra well
For them as cud ga nea mair to the fell;
At forty, my fadder went, and I said
It wad likely sarra a grey auld head;
At fifty, I fancied I’d been o’er hasty
For perhaps efter aw the dinner was tasty;
And I’ll nobbut speak truth: at fifty-nine
I was sair disappointed I cud na dine;
And now, at sixty, I’ve coomt to find
That the Old Folks’ Dinner is just to my mind,
And I tell the young folks not t’ wait in the cauld
But to hurry up gaily to sixty years auld.

(English Lakes Visitor and Keswick Guardian, 28 December 1895, p. 4.)