Ah met an auld man t’ udder daay,
His limbs wer lish tho’ t’ hair was grey,
He sed, “Ah’s gaen upon my waay
To t’ Kessick Auld Fwokes’ Do.
In fadder’s time we hed aw maks
O murry-neets and Cursmas cracks—
We played at lant, and gev oor packs
A regular putten through.
“We mead less brass, tho’ t’ mair we wrowt,
Bit loavin daays, who wad ha thowt
O gitten murry-neets for nowt
In that auld-fashioned daay?
Bit noo t’ clock strikes for t’ sixtieth year
And off we ga fra far and near
Till Kessick for oor Cursmas cheer,
Wi’ nowt but thanks to paay.
“A whistle ga’s and t’ waiters fly
Wid turkey, geuse, and giblet pie,
Theer’s mutton boiled an beef for-by,
And cheese an havver-bread,
Bit auld fwokes’ teeth are laal o’ use
For manishment o beef an geuse;
Ah’ve three in’t heed, and yan’s gone loose,
Ah sup hare-soup instead.
“Than t’ band plaays oop as if ’twad brust,
Wid flowers the taables aw are drust,
An efther dinner we hev a rust
And than they maes the tea.
Tea, barn—nut wesh; tea, broon, and strang;
Than speeches, readdins, carol-sang.
If oor King Edward com along,
Ah think hoo pleas’t he’d bea.
“I wadn’t miss it for a pund;
Bit ya sad thowt keeps comen round,
Sea many a friend ligs undergrund
We fain wad welcome still.
Bit what, it’s likely aw for t’ best
Whoa toil and suffer mud hev rest,
And Christ will welcome heam each guest
That tries to dea His will.
(English Lakes Visitor and Keswick Guardian, 30 December 1905, p. 5)