Little Fan

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When little Fanny came to town, I
felt as I could sing!
She were the sprackest little maid, the
sharpest, pertest thing.
Her mother were as proud as punch, and
as for I—well, there!
I never see sich gert blue eyes, I never
see sich hair!
"If all the weans in Somerset," says I,
"was standin' here,
Not one could hold a candle light, 'long-
side our little dear."

Now FANNY'S little Fan have come! She's
clingin' round my knees,
She's asking me for sups of tea, and bites
of bread and cheese.
She's climbing into grandma's bed, she's
stroking grandma's face.
She's tore my paper into bits and strawed
it round the place.
"If all the weans in all the world," says
I, "was standin' here,
Not one could hold a farthin' dip to
Fanny's little dear!"
For Fanny's little Fanny—oh, she's took
the heart of me!
'Tis childern's childern is the CROWN of
humble folk like we!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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