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66
THE CHURCH BRINGS US HOME.
A COOISH, a kiss, an' a whisper,
A sooryin' summer's day;
Then work an' childher an' bother
The ress of the way.
Some takes the road by the Chappal,
An' some houls on by the Church,
An' some falls down by the wayside,
Lef all in the lurch.
I'm used on the Chappal for all—
It's homelier like in the dark,
But himself was took at the Pazofl,
An' larnt for Parish Clerk.
They're coming" to see me reglar—
Church wans an’ Chappal wans too;
An' I'm not say in' no ill of neither—
It's juss how we've grew.
The Church wans is middlin' free,
An' passin' the time o' day,
An' Church was in before the Chappal,
As th' oul people say.
