|  | Copy of a LETTER, WROTE BY A 
 
 Young Shepherd of Borrowdale,
 
 
 AT HIS Return from Dublin, TO One of his Acquaintance.
 
 FRIND,
 I SEND te thisan, to tell the amackily what dreedfull fine 
things I saw ith rwod tyu, an at yon Dublin; an t'harships 
I've bidden. I set forrat o' Midsummer-day, an gat to 
Whitehebben a girt sea-side town, whore Sea-Nags eat cowls 
out o' rack-hurries, like as barrels dus yale drink: I think 
Sea-Nags is nut varra wild, for tha winter them ca girt 
foalds wi'out yates; an as I was lyukin about to gang to 
Ierland, I so twea duzzen o' fellows myakin a Sea-Nag 
tedder-styack ov iran; I ast yan othum if I cud git ridin tu 
Dublin? an a man in a three-nyuk'd hat, at knact like rottin 
sticks, telt me I mud gang wid him; for a thing tha caw 
tide, like t' post oth land, was gangin, an wadent stay o' 
nea boddee nivir. Than four men in a lile Sea-Nag, a fwot I 
think, at tha caw'd a bwot, helter'd our nag, and led it out 
oth' foald; than our nag slipt t' helter an ran away; but 
tha hang up a deal of wind-clyaths, like blinder-bridles, 
we' hundreds o' ryaps for rines. Land ran away an left us, 
an our nag had eaten sea menny cwols, it was cowdy, an 
canter'd up wi' tya end, and down wi' tudder; I turnt as 
seak as a peat, an spes'd aw t'iver was imme. O wons, I was 
bad! I thowt I sud a deed. I spew'd aw cullers. Neest day 
efter we set forrat, an Iland met us, tha cawt it Man; I wad 
fain a seent cumt hard tull us, but it slipt away an left 
us: but sum mare land met us neest day efter; it was varra 
shy; but we follot it up, becose tha sed Dublin was ont. I 
persuadet t' man wit' three-nyuk'd hat to owrgit if it he 
brast his nag, an he telt a fellow to twint' tail ont, as 
that dyu swine or bulls when tha carry them to bate at 
Kessick, an tha wil'nt gang on; than we gat to Dublin 
prusently; but I hed like tull a forgitten to tell the seck 
girt black fish we soe; tha snowrt when tha com out oth girt 
dub like thunner, an tha swallow Land-Nags as hens dus big; 
mappen eat Sea-Nags when they dee. It was a nice breet 
mwornin when we war i' Dublin Ba, as tha cawt; whar't sea 
gangs up towr't land as a dog dus toth heed of a bull: twea 
men i' yan oth thar bwots com to our nag side, tha caut them 
Paddes; yan cudnt tell thare toke be geese: tha drank hartly 
ov our watter, it stinkt tyu, but we hed nout better to 
drink, fort' girt dub's as sote as brine; it wad pussen the 
if thou tyasted it: we ga them twea fellows ith't bwot a 
helter, an tha led our nag into Dublin, as wild as 'twas. 
But, O man! what a fine country ther was ov tuder side on 
us; hooses as white as drip, an as rank as mice: Dublin 
toun, it lyuk'd like a girt foald full o' sheep, at yan cud 
nobbut just see th' heeds on; chimlas lyuk'd like hworns, an 
kurk-steeples an spires, as tha caw them, like a menne Gyat 
hworns amang 'tudder. Sea-Nags is as rank i' Dublin beck, as 
if thou was lyukin at ten thousan geese in a gutter; tha 
hevnt foalds for them as we hav iv Ingland; town keeps them 
warm i' winter, but tha feed tem wi' beck-sand, as tha dyu 
at Whitehebben wi' cwols; but nut out o' rack-hurries; 
theyve a mouth in at side, whore men feeds tem in wi girt 
iran spyuns. But O man, it was lucky I lee[t] ov a man at 
went toth scyul wi me when I was a lile lad; we war deevlish 
thick, an he sed he wad let me see aw things; if I had gyan 
into
 
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