O,
wroite me a litter me darlin’,
Your Jaimie is lonely tonoight;
Ye
niver have written, me darlin’,
Since iver ye made me heart loight.
O,
Why don’t ye wroite to me darlin’,
Your soilence it gives me a froight;
Och,
shure I forgot it me darlin’,
It’s divil a worrud ye kin wroite.
Sept.
23, ‘95
B.
Courier,
Feb.
2, ‘96
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