[From Manx Melodies, 1922]
Childher round the Chiollagh
THE poor lil doggie is weenin'
To see will we let him come in;
It's like he'll be lost on the mountain,
An' shiverin' out in the win'.
What talkin' of dogs is there on you-
What is it you're schamin' theer?
Be done with your capers an' noisin',
There's no lil doggie here!
His lil grey paw is workin',
Pushin' in at the crack of the dhure,
An' a scutchin' of leaves an' rubbage
Thrailin' in with his hair on the flure ;
An' the poor lil doggie is weenin'
To see can he come to the heat,
Goin' a losin' it's like on the mountain,
An' starvin' for somethin' to eat.
What talkin' of starvin's there on you?
Your suppers is barely ate.
Is it wantin' your pieces already-
It's a piece of a stick you should get!
His two lil eyes is peerin'
Out under the tussocks of hair,
An' a long lil tail on him wavin'
An' sweepin' the flure all bare.
An' the poor lil doggie is weenie'
Comin' in from the wet an' the mire,
An' sweesin' himself, an' sweesin'
To see will he get to the fire.
Mammy (lighting candle)
Are you nearly done with your pipe, Daa ?
Is it time we were goin' upstairs?
These childher is noisin' an' talkie'
When they ought to be sayin' their prayers.
Some surt of a dog they are seein'-
An' deed but it's likely enough,
For Themselves will be watchin' an' peepin',
An' takin' a bit of a huff.
Th' oul' people would always be sayin'
They were sendin' their dogs before,
That the hearth would be goin' a leavin',
An' a turf or some bons for a store.
Welll foller your shaddas to bed then.
See them climbin' up theer by the wall-
An' I wouldn' thrus' but the las' wan
Will be took at the fayries for all!
Childher (going upstairs)
An' the poor lil doggie is weenie',
Sittin' all by himself on the flure
Oh Mammy! Don't leave us! They're Comin',
Thrailin' in at the crack of the dhure !