From a letter to the Cornish and Devon Post in 1928.
Dear Zur,—
I thought I must write ‘ee
A vew line vur I’m worried to death,
Vur I zeed last wik in the paper
A piece that took ‘way me breath,
T’was a piece wrote by Jan Stewer,
An very well worded indade,
But I can’t slape be night vur thinking,
Till it jist ‘bout turns me haid,
I can’t work be day, ‘tis true Zur,
Vur ‘tis always ‘pon me mind,
And Missus zays I’m lazy
And always all behind.
‘Tis ‘bout this ole dairy bisnes,
And you zee I kips one cow, To bath ‘er every morning
I’m sure I shent knaw ‘ow.
And if ‘er takes a cold Zur
I must kip ‘er nice and ‘ot,
And wrap ‘er up in vlannel.
I tell ‘ee I’m quite upzet,
My cow’ouse vaces North Zur,
Now what be I to do?
Vur I’ve tried and tried to sheft ‘un,
And Missus tried ‘un too.
O’ course, I use some language
And zay’s a vew words zometimes.
If ‘er should vlink ‘er tail Zur
Or let out one behind.
And the ‘erdest job of all es
To milk when ‘er’s lying down,
Vur you musn’t disturb ‘er ‘tis zaid, Zur.
If you do you’m vined vive poun’,
And all who milks must wear, Zur,
A white sterched collar and tie,
And shave every marning regular
And be clain as calin ken be.
Now what be I gwain to do Zur?
I’m sure I’ve gone quite thin
Since all these noo regalations
And rules ‘ave come in.
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