(by Sarah Savage)

I couldn't look behind me
As I left the cottage door -
It was partin' with the wee ones
That left my heart so sore.

My mother took my bundle,
We were for the Hirin' Fair
An' the crowd was bravely gathered
Agin' we landed there.

We heard a lot of bargainin'
As we stood about till late
'Twas for some a ready market
While others be to wait.

Then a man spoke up forenest us
As he eyed me up an' down -
"Is the wee lass out for hirin'
Or just to see the town?"

"A widow's chile", says me mother,
"Sure she be to go an earn
An' the more she's wee, she's willin'
An' won't be hard to learn".

An' soon the wage was settled
An' the earnest in my han'
Says the master "Now it's home time,
We'll make it as we can".

My mother was beside me
As we journeyed through the throng,
Then she says "I be to leave you,
An' don't be thinkin' long".

Her shawl my eye could follie'
On the journey as before
Then with turnin' for the station
Sure I seen her plaid no more.

There's many a change since them times
For it's three score years come May,
But I never feeled as lonesome
As on that Hirin' Day.