![[UK]](/static/img/flags/uk.png "United Kingdom")
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 45: There was knack knee’d Mat, wiv’s purple suit, / An hopper-a—s’d Dick.at hopper-arsed, adj.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 45: There was knack knee’d Mat, wiv’s purple suit, / An hopper-a—s’d Dick. Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 31: Cheer up, ma hinny! leet thy pipe, / And take a blast o’ backy!at bacca, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 296: Thou bangs them a’ lass every day /[ ...] / For hide and hue, ma bonny hinny, / Thou bangs the crew.at bang, v.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 185: His boddy was soddy and sore he was bruised, / The bark of his shins was all standing in peaks.at bark, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 90: Aw sat an’ aw drank till quite blind.at blind, adj.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 213: You have heard of Miss Bouncer, without any doubt [...] She smil’d in my face while she drank up my wine; of my punch and cakes, oh my dear had a share.at bouncer, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 43: Thy wit could not save the good breeches, / That mencefully [i.e. decently] cover’d thy bum.at bum, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 261: There was Preston the bailiff, Joe Craggs was his bum.at bum, n.2
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 286: They drank bumbo made of gin.at bumbo, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 46: The hat was worn by carrot-pow’d Jenny’s Jacky-o.at carrot-pated (adj.) under carrot, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 213: I looked about, my charmer to see.at charmer, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 254: Each cuddles his coney or rabbit, / And pleasantly purrs with puss-cats; / Hence with husky harlots cohabit, / And handle a herdling’s old hats.at cony, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 167: He had great cause to crack of wealth.at crack, v.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 26: Odds marcy! Wye, marrows, becrike it’s Lord ’Size.at crikey!, excl.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 26: ‘In her breest great consarn it inspir’d, / That my Lord should sae cullishly come by his deeth’.at cullishly (adv.) under cull, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 105: Why, Jack, sure they’re feulish, to refuse them is cullish, / Why siller, man‘s, siller and paper’s but rags.at cullish (adj.) under cull, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 104: Wilt thou take my tokens? sweet daffa-down-dilly.at daffy-down-dilly, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 242: John Thompson [...] will find it is true, / That thieving is worse than the sword; / In the space of an hour, / He’ll dance on the moor, / Attach’d to a rope, or a cord.at dance, v.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 316: Dang Lunuun!at dang, v.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 34: With ardour heroic I glow; / But love’s dear delights shall I barter for drilling / You sure can’t refuse me.at drill, v.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 30: Fling off their black duddies. / Leave hammers and studdies.at duds, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 46: Jack [...] wad danced wi’ goggle-ey’d Mally-o.at goggle-eyed, adj.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 32: An’ we’ll kiss and cuddle; / And mony a fuddle / Sall [sic] drive the langsome hours away.at fuddle, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 301: He sits with his pipe in his cheek, / And he fuddles his money away.at fuddle, v.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 254: Each cuddles his coney or rabbit, / And pleasantly purrs with puss-cats; / Hence with husky harlots cohabit, / And handle a herdling’s old hats.at old hat, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 105: An’ smash me! I thought him a thick-headed fool.at thick-headed, adj.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 9: [song title] ‘Ma’ Canny Hinny’ [...] Where has te been, ma’ canny hinny?at hen, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 78: Your milliner’s spruce, not so apt to take huff.at take (the) huff (v.) under huff, n.
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 184: Straight she began and went to’t handfisty [...] and dang down all the gear: The dishes and dublers went flying like fury.at go to it (v.) under it, n.1
Jr. (ed.) Rhymes of Northern Bards 89: Ye’d best hev a drop o’ wour jackey. Your jackey! says I, now what’s that? [...] English gin, canny man, that’s flat.at jacky, n.1
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