What A Openy Can Do. a Poem In Traditional Yorkshire Dialect. Comments

A wo walking thru tarn on a cold winters neet un wind it wa blowing like mad an a saw set ont pave stooan all wet through wi sleet a poor little bare fooited lad,
A sed, where is thi daddy doy whear is thi mam, wat a tha crying fo poor little lamb, here tak this openy and buy thi some spice, rock sticks else hum bugs o somat ats nice, then run off ooam ageean as fast as tha can, theer tha alreyt agean run like a man, un hi dried up his eyes wi his little white brat, hi tried to se somat a couldn't tell what, un his little face breatened wi pleasure all through, it's capin sometimes wot an orpuny can do.
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