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
All th' nooatice th' widder tuk wor to shak her neive in his face, an'
as they all could see ha drunk Alick wor, they left him standin wol they
locked all th' doors an' prepared to have a hunt for th' chap 'at had
run up stairs. But Tommy wor detarmined net to be catched if he could
help' it, an' a fine race he led' em, for he flew ovver th' pews like a
cat, an' as th' door-keeper, an' pew oppener, an' th' parson ran after
him, th' wimmen kept gettin into ther rooad, an' ovver they tummeld
knockin th' cannels aght as they fell, an' of all th' skrikin an'
screamin yo iver heeard, it licked all.
Alick wor bi hissen daan stairs, an' wor feelin rayther misty amahg it,
but when he heard all th' noise he bethowt him 'at it must be a pairt
o'th' ceremony, an' he began to feel excited.
'Keep it up owd lad! Gooid lad Tommy! Thar't a cock burd! By gow I tha
niver should ha been a barber! Two hauf-craans to one on th' little en!'
But they catched him at last; an' as they didn't know who it wor, an' he
wor soa covered wi' muck an dust wol it wor hard to tell, they browt him
daan stairs whear ther wor a better leet.
When th' parson saw who it wor he could hardly believe his een, an' all
t' others put ther hands as if they thowt th' roof worn't safe.
'Thomas,' sed th' parson solemnly, 'I'm sorry to see thou hast fallen.
Thy race here is run.'
'Well, he ran weel didn't he?' sed Alick. Ther wor moor nor him fell i'
that race, or else ther wor a deeal o' skrikin for nowt. But it just
suits me, aw wodn't ha missed it for a shillin! aw wor niver at th'
makkin ov a deacon afoor, it's three times as mich fun as makkin a free
mason.'
Tommy tried to spaik, but he wor soa aght o' wind wol he couldn't say a
word, an' as sooin as th' doors wor oppened he made a bolt for hooam.
Alick follerd him, but fan th' door locked, soa he went hooam too.
Next mornin, nawt her on 'em could exactly tell what had happened th'
neet afoor, but Alick went to pay Tommy a visit. What wor sed aw dooant
know, but they tell me 'at Alick's shaved hissen iver sin, for he
doesn't seem to like th' idea o' Tommy bein soa varry near him wi' a
razor.
Ov course Tommy worn't made a deacon, an' what wor war nor all he lost
th' widder into th' bargain.
They did try to get him to join th' Good Templars; an' Alick sed if he
wanted to be a member he'd promise to see' at he wor thear i' time if he
had to sit up another neet for it; 'an tha knows awm a man o' mi word,
doesn't ta, Tommy?'
But someha or other Tommy seems content to stop as he is, but if yo
should iver give him a call, aw wodn't advise yo to say owt abaat him
bein made deacon, for th' thowts on it seems to be like th' black
pudding he had at th' burrin drinkin,--varry heavy on his stummack, an'
all th' gin an' watter he's been able to get has niver swilled it daan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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