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
In a village not very far from where I am now sitting, and in the
principal street, (for it was the only one,) was situated an
old-fashioned hostelry where nightly all the Solomons of the district
used to congregate. The room they occupied was a large kitchen, the
floor of which was scoured and sanded; and all the furniture, which was
immovable, was brushed as white as it was possible to be. Here they held
their political discussions, and showed how Gladstone had missed it, and
clearly demonstrated that had their advice been acted upon, the world
would very soon have become so regenerated that soldiers, sailors,
parliaments, and policemen, would be things altogether useless, and we
should soon be in such a position that pleasure would be the only
business of life. On the night of which I write, the conversation turned
upon the question of School Boards. Old Michael, who was a great
authority on the question of education, owing to his daughter being a
pupil teacher, was at once appealed to for his opinion.
"Well," he said, "awve net gooan soa deeply into this matter as some
things, but aw should think 'at they'res gooin to be a mistak all th'
way through. If aw understand it reight, iverybody's to be eddicated to
sich a pitch, wol they'll be able to tak a sitiwation awther as a clark
at a bank or a clark at a chapel, an' yo know as weel as aw do 'at
ther's some fowk yo connot eddicate. My dowter has tell'd me monny a
time, 'at ther's a deeal o' fowk 'at's born withaat heeads. Yo may think
it saands strange but aw believe it's true--they've nobbut getten lumps,
an' they're like blind boils, yo may pooltice 'em as long as yo like,
an' yo can niver draw 'em to a heead, an' that bein th' case aw think
'at Forster's made a mess on it. Nah if he'd ha takken my advice, he'd
ha letten it alooan until sich times as fowk had getten sense enuff to
understand things."
"But Michael," said Dick Dardust, "aw must say at aw dooant agree
exactly wi' all tha says, an' aw connot help thinkin 'at thy dowter may
happen be mistakken abaat fowks' heeads."
"Nah, if tha'rt gooin to set thisen up as superior to my dowter, ov
coorse aw've done at once. If somdy 'at's spent soa monny year i'
improvin ther intellectul an' morbid sensibleness is to be questioned bi
a ninkumpoop like thee, it's time to drop it."
"Aw dooant want to set misen up at all, Michael, all aw have to say is
'at th' best on us may be mistakken, an' aw've heeard a chap say, an' yo
may tak his word for it, for he comes throo London, 'at this Schooil
Booard an' this technical eddication is baan to revolutionize this
country."
"God forbid! 'at we should iver have ony revolution i' this country as
long as aw live," said Simon o' th' Lee, who had been listening, 'for
ther's been blooid enuff shed latly.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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