Red Stockin.

Shoo wor shoeless, an shiverin, an weet, -
Her hair flyin tangled an wild:
Shoo'd just been browt in aght o'th street,
Wi drink an mud splashes defiled.
Th' poleece sargent stood waitin to hear
What charge agean her wod be made,
He'd scant pity for them they browt thear,
To be surly wor pairt ov his trade.
"What name?" an he put it i'th' book, -
An shoo hardly seemed able to stand;
As shoo tottered, he happened to luk
saw summat claspt in her hand.
"What's that? Bring it here right away!
You can't take that into your cell;"
"It's nothing." "Is that what you say?
Let me have it and then I can tell."
"Nay, nay! yo shall nivver tak this!
It's dearer nor life is to me!
Lock me up, if aw've done owt amiss,
But aw'll stick fast to this wol aw dee!"
"No nonsense!" he sed wi a frown,
An two officers speedily came;
Shoo seem'd to have soberer grown,
But shoo fowt like a fiend, just the same.
"Is it money or poison?" he sed, -
An unfolded it quickly to see;
When sum in at fell aght, - soft an red,
An it rested across ov his knee.
'Twor a wee babby's stockin, - just one,
But his hard face grew gentle and mild,
As he sed in his kindliest tone,
"This stockin was worn by your child?"
"Yes, sir, - an its all at aw have
To remind me ov when aw wor pure,
For mi husband an child are i'th' grave; -
Yo'll net tak it throo me, aw'm sewer!"
"No, not for the world would I take
Your treasure round which love has grown;
Pray keep it for poor baby's sake; -
I once lost a child of my own."
And he folded it up wi much care
As he lukt at her agonized face; -
A face at had once been soa fair,
But nah bearin th' stamp ov disgrace.
"You seem soberer now, - do you think
You could find your way home if you tried?"
"Oh! yes, sir! God help me! It's Drink
At has browt me to this, sir," shoo cried.
"God help you! Be sure that He will;
If you seek Him, He'll come to your aid;
He is longing and waiting there still
To receive you; - none need be afraid.
The mother whose heart still retains
The love for her babe pure and bright,
May have err'd, but the hope still remains
That she yet will return. Now, Good night."
-    -    -    -    -
With his kindly words still in her ears,
An that little red sock in her breast;
Shoo lukt up to Heaven through her tears;
An her faith, in Christ's love did the rest.