Yorksher Puddin': A Collection of the Most Popular Dialect Stories from the Pen of John HartleyHartley, John
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Yorksher Puddin': A Collection of the Most Popular Dialect Stories from the Pen of John Hartley
Hartley, John
English language -- Dialects -- England -- Yorkshire; Yorkshire (England) -- Fiction
Well, let them 'at relish th' saars have' em to ther hearts' content,
but dooant try to prevent other fowk havin some o' th' sweets. Aw'm one
o' them 'at likes th' sweets best, an' if they'll nobbut let me alooan
aw'll promise niver to mell o' them.
Grooanin, mooanin, an' grummelin, is abaat th' warst way o' spendin
one's time. If yo come in for a lot o' gooid things, enjoy 'em wol yo've
th' chance, an' dooant pass by ivery flaar 'at smiles along yor path for
fear yo may find a twitch-clock i' one. An' if things dooant turn aght
just as gooid as yo'd like' em, try to mak th' best o' th' bit o' gooid
ther is in 'em.
They tell me this world's full o' trouble,
An' each one comes in for a share;
An' pleasure they say is a bubble,
'At gooas floating away up in th' air.
But aw'll niver give way to repinin,
Tho' th' claads may luk gloomy an' black,
For they all have a silvery linin,
An' some day shall breeten awr track.
Let other fowk brood o'er ther sorrow,
From each day enjoyment we'll borrow,
Let to-morrow tak care ov to-morrow,
An strive to be happy to-day.
Mrs Spaiktruth's Pairty.
It ud be a gooid thing if somdy could find a remedy for backbitin an'
gossipin:--for lyin an' stailin an' a lot moor things o'th' same sooart
'at's varry common. Last year aw gate an invitation to a woman's tea
drinkin, an' ov coarse aw went, for aw niver miss a chonce o' enjoyin
mysen if aw can do it withaat mich expense. Th' warst o' this do wor' at
ther wor noa man amang, em but me, an' aw shouldn't a been thear, but
Mistress Spaiktruth wanted me to repoart th' speeches, an' as shoo wor
givin th' pairty shoo set at th' end o'th' table an' teem'd aght th'
teah an' Mistress Snipenooas put th' rum in. After iverybody had getten
supplied ther wor quietness for abaat five minutes, an' altho' nobdy
wanted owt to ait, fatty cakes an' buttered muffins went aght o'th' seet
like winkin. After th' second cup one or two began whisperin a bit, an'
after th' third, it wor like being i' th' middle ov a lot o' geese; they
wor all cacklin at once, an' judging bi th' smiles o' ther faces they
felt very happy. When th' pots wor sided (an' they'd takken gooid care
to leave nowt but th' pots to side), they drew up in a ring raand th'
fire, an' Mrs. Spaiktruth wor put i'th' rockin chair to rule th'
proceedins.
'Nah, lasses,' shoo sed, 'aw havnt mich to say nobbut to tell yo all at
yor varry welcome, an' aw hooap yo've all made a gooid drinkin ('we have
lass!') 'an aw hooap we shall have some gooid speeches throo some on
yo', for aw know thers some gooid tawkers amang yo, but this year's
meetin is to be conducted on a different plan to onny we've had befoor.
Ther hasn't to be ony gossipin or backbitin, an' them 'at cannot say a
few words withaat scandalizin ther neighbours, blagardin ther own
husbands, or throwin aght hints likely to injure sombdy's else, munnot
spaik at all.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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