“Whaur’s the scuddler?”
scuddler: maid of all work, skivvy.
“Where is the skivvy, do you know?”
Here is the nursery rhyme for those that don’t know it…
Sing a song of sixpence.
Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye,
four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie,
when the pie was opened the birds began to sing,
wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before a King.
The King was in the counting house,
counting out his money,
the Queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey,
the maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes,
along came a blackbird and pecked off her nose.