  Granfer sits in the winder an' looks acrost the bay; Sure 'nuff he thinks a mort o' things tho' 'tis little he has to say. 'Tis time he came to his moorin's an' heaved his gear ashore, For the sea is a bit too chancy for a man gone eighty-four. He've catched a plenty of wisdom in the net inside his head, An' often us be tellin' of the clever things he've said. They'm cleverer nor things you read in books an' papers too, Because he dosn' make 'em up, but awnly knaws they'm true. He've good advice for sailor lads who musn't come to grief: "Don't try to shine you'm centrebit by cuts acrost the reef. Don't make you'm mainsail fast an' look for mermaids on the lew, An' don't take cider kegs aboard because they spile the view." He've good advice for all the maids whom lookin' arter lads: "If you baint catchin' mackerel then be content with skads; An' if you've tried the seinin' an' the fishes won't be took, Just get a dacent bit o' bait, an' drop a line an' hook." He've good advice for husbands, which he tells them all alone: "Go suant comin' into port an' watch the weather cone; Jest keep your hellum stiddy if there's tokens of a squall— Cross words is nigh as useless as a porpus in the trawl." He've good advice for housewives but he keeps it to hisself: For he knows they awnly puts it with the jowds upon the shelf; His wisest words to women be the words he doesn' say, For he jest sits in the winder an' looks acrost the bay. |
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