*

…The king he were a comin’ down the street an he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hare, so he stopped and said: ‘What were that you was a singun of, maw’r?’…

…The woman, she were ashamed to let him hare what her darter had been a doin’, so she sang, ‘stid o’ that:
‘My daughter ha’ spun five, five skeins to day, my darter ha’ spun five, five skeins today…’
‘S’ars o’ mine!” said the king, ‘I never heerd tell of any on as could do that.’

Then he said; ‘Look here, I want a wife, and I’ll marry your darter, but mind now ‘leven months o’ the year she shall ha’ all the vittles she likes to eat, and all the gownds she likes to git, and all the cumpny she likes to hev; but that las’ month o’ the year she’ll ha’ to spin five skeins iv’ry day, an if she doon’t she’ll loose her hid.’
‘All right,’ says the woman: for she thowt what a grand marriage that was. And as for them five skeins, when te come tew, there’d be plenty o’ ways of getting owt of it, and likeliest, he’d ha’ forgot about it.’