That's all, tho' aw'd happen a drop Lat on, 'at aw knaw nowt abaat; For th' lanlord he tell'd mi to stop, When th' brass i' mi pocket runn'd aght, Aw remember beein chuckt into th' street At cloisin time, nothin noa mooar,-- An mi mates set mi up o' mi feet, An propt me agean a hasse door. All th' rest o' last neet is a blank, Aw wonder who put mi to bed? Awm sewer aw dooant knaw who to thank, An aw connot reet think, for mi head-- Besides aw feel terrible sick,-- This drinkin, it isn't all bliss; Aw expect aw'st be seedy a wick, It's towt mi a lesson 'as this. Christmas Oysters. They tell me 'at in Orstralia they have Kursmas Day in th' middle o' summer,--aw dooant knaw whether it's trew or net, for someha' them 'at's been i' furrin pairts are varry mich addicted to th' practiss o' tellin lies,--but if they hey ther Kursmiss i' summer, all aw con say is, 'at it's a mistak; ov cooarse furriners can do as they like, but it allus seems to me at th' best ov Kursmiss is at it cooms i'th middle o' winter to cheer poor fowks' hearts when th' days is dark an gloomy. It's a wonderful time is Kursmiss--all th' shops as ther winders dressed aght wi' th' best things they hev, to mak a show, an gas leets shinin all up an daan, an ther's geese an turkeys hangin up aghtside,--an yo' see ivverybody lukkin as gooid humoured as if they'd getten some brass gi'en. Aw know nowt mooar pleasant nor to goa throo th' markits on th' neet befoor Kursmiss, an luk at th' stawls an th' smilin faces all up an daan. Aw heeard a bit ov a stoary abaat Kursmiss a bit sin' 'at aw'll tell yo. Ther wor a young lad at Dewsbury an he wor varry fond o' gooid aitin,--it's net a varry uncommon complaint amang lads,--but this chap wor mooar nor usual fond o' gooid things, an if ivver he gate hold ov onny brass, he allus used to spend it awther at a pie shop, or on fish fried wi' chipt puttates, or some other daintes o' that sooart. It wor Kursmiss Eve last year, an he'd getten howd o' some copper bi sweepin snaw off th' doorstuns for th' nabers, soa after he'd hed his teah, he set off to fill hissen full o' summat tasty. "Aw'll ha' summat reeal gooid to-neet," he sed, "as it's Kursmiss time." He lukt into shops at tarts, an penny ducks, an blood puddins, an all sooarts o' things; but he'd hed them all monny a time, an he wanted summat fresh. At last he went into th' markit place, an after he'd luk'd raand, wi' th' brass fair burnin a hoil in his pocket for want o' spendin, he coom to a stawl whear a chap wor shaatin aght: "Hoisters! reeal natives! a penny apiece!" Nah he'd nivver tasted a hoister i' all his life, it wor summat new, soa he went up to th' chap an axt for one. Th' man gate hold o' one an started o' oppenin it wi' his knife, but th' lad sed-- "Howd on, aw say, that's a varry little en, aw want a reight daan big un--th' biggest one yo' hev i'th place."