Document 756

A Hoary Story - The Cemet'ry Inspector's Lament

Author(s): John Henderson

Copyright holder(s): John Henderson

Grave-diggin is ne'er a thit easy,
Wi a pickle o freest i the grun,
An Mair, the inspector, shuda kent this,
As he lingered aside on the mun.

Fan his navvies doon-deep i the openin,
Shouted, "It's jist aboot richt, Maister Mair,"
The inspector gat oot his tape meesure,
An edged tae the heid tae mak shair.

Bit jist as he leaned doon tae test it,
Ma Nature, she iced his left bit,
Sae heid ower hurdies he tummled,
Richt intae the yawnin broon pit.

The navvies hard scrabblin doon unner,
Sae lent ower the sheugh fur a keek.
"Ah've lossed ma guid wallies', Mair gollared,
An they're playin gin hod-an-go-seek."

Whilies efter his haun haudin gnashers,
Cam hup clair-lik intae thur sicht,
Sae his men poo’d him oot o the chasm,
Whilst he heeld oan tae thur airms guid an ticht.

Syne he spak tae his wallies wi easedom,
“Ye'll be fine wi a rub an' a spit.”
Bit fan shoved i his mou a mite efter,
T’wis clair thit yon ains didnae fit!

Information about Document 756

A Hoary Story - The Cemet'ry Inspector's Lament