Yorksher Puddin': A Collection of the Most Popular Dialect Stories from the Pen of John Hartley — John Shaqi
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
"Aw thowt tha used to tell me at it wornt th' ale tha wanted, it wor me;
but na it is'nt me ta wants, it's the ale."
"Why, woll a chap lives he con alter his mind, connot he?" said Jim.
"Oh! soa tha's altered thi mind, has ta? Tha's noa need to tell me that,
aw can see it, an' aw've altered mine too, an' aw've a gooid mind to
pail my heead agean th' jawm when aw think on it."
"Why, lass, it's a pity to spoil a gooid mind, but aw'st advise thi to
tak thi cap off for fear o' crushin it."
"An' if aw did crush it, whose brass wor it at bought it, aw should like
to know? Tha's taen moor brass across th' rooad this wick nor what ud ha
bought booath a cap an a bonnet, an' tha'rt staring across nah as if tha
langed to be gooin agean. What are ta starin at?"
"Nay nowt, but aw think ther's a mule i'th' garden," said Jim.
"He'd hardly getten th' words aght ov his maath, when Molly seizes th'
besom, an' flies aght, saying, "It's just what yo mun expect when folk
come hooam hauf druffen, an' leeav th' gate oppen."
"Whativer has th' owd craytur up," says Jim. "Shoo surely doesn't think
aw mean ther wor a mule i'th' garden? Aw nobbut meant ther wor a bit ov
a row i'th' hoil; but aw'll niver be trusted if shoo is'nt lukkin under
th' rhubub leaves, as if shoo thowt a mule could get thear, but shoo'll
be war mad at ther isn't one nor what shoo wod ha been if shoo'd fun
hauf a duzzen."
Molly coom back in a awful temper. "Soa tha thowt tha couldn't do enuff
to aggravate me but tha mun mak a fooil on me?"
"Why, wornt ther one?"
"Noa, ther worn't, an' tha knew that."
"Ther wor summat 'at luk'd as faal as one, daatless, when tha wor
thear."
"Come, tha's noa room to talk. Aw think aw'm as handsom as thee, ony
end up. Folk may weel wonder what aw could see i' thee, and aw niver
should ha had thee if aw had'nt been varry cloise seeted."
"Tha'rt booath cloise seeted and cloise fisted, aw think, and if tha wor
cloiser maathed sometimes ther'd be less din."
"Thear tha goaas agean. Aw've spakken, have aw. Aw'll tell thi what
it is, tha can't bide to be tell'd o' thi faults, but aw'm nooan gooin
to be muzzled to suit thee."
"Why, lass, it isn't oft tha oppens thi maath for nowt, tha generally
lets summat aght."
"Well, an' when tha oppens thine, tha generally lets summat in, soa
we're abaght straight."
"Aw wish we wor, lass, for aw'm stoled o' this bother, an' if ther isn't
a mule i'th' garden nah, ther's summat else, for if that isn't Slinger,
aw wor niver soa capt i' my life. Why, he looks as fat as a pig. Oppen
th' door, an' ax him in, for it's th' first time aw've seen him sin he'd
his heead in a pooltice."
"Gooid day, Slinger; ha ta gettin on?"
"Oh, meeterly just. Aw thowt a callin when aw went past afoor, but ther
wor sich a din, aw thowt ther mud be a mule i' th'"--
"What does ta say," says Molly. "Has ta come here to taunt me? "Aw've
been tell'd abaght that mule afoor this afternooin."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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