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
Shoo went to th' cubbard an' browt aght a bottle, an' put it onto th'
table, teld him to help hissen. "Tha's noa need to be flaid on it," shoo
sed, "it's some o'th' reight sooart; it's what thi uncle allus taks when
he ails owt, an' aw believe if th' time iver comes when a sup o' that
willn't cure him, it'll be a case o' curran cake an slow walkin: for aw
believe its saved his life manny a scoor times already, an' it's a deeal
cheeaper nor doctor's physic."
Jack tem'd some into a glass an gate a gooid swig; an' if yo could ha'
seen his face yo'd niver ha' done ony moor gooid. If it had been
stricknine he couldn't ha' pooled a faaler mug. "What's th' matter,"
shoo says, "is it to strong?"
"Aw dooant know whether it's to strong or net," he said, "but it's aght
ov a different tap to what aw'm used to; just yo taste, an' lets see ha
yo like it."
"It's thi maath 'at's aght o' order, mun; it's a drop o' old Slicer's
best, an' aw'm sure ther's noa better to be getten abaat this quarter.
Aw dooant reckon to tak owt to sup misen," shoo sed, "but aw'll just
taste wi' thi."
"Eea, do, sup it up, aw'm sure tha'rt welcome, for aw've had enuff."
Shoo gate a drop into her maath, but it coom aght agean sharper nor it
went in; aw thowt her heart ud come up. "A'a dear! a'a dear!" shoo says,
"it's Harryget watter! it's Harryget watter! aw've made a t'mistak!'
aw've made a mistak! but it's just thi luck."
"Eea, aw expected yo'd say soa; it's allus put daan to my luck, whether
it's my mistak or somdy else's; but it mud ha' been war."
"Thear, tha'rt at it agean; aw believe if it h'ad been pooisen tha'd
say soa; but, here, sithee, try this bottle; aw fancy tha'll find
this'll run daan better nor th' last." Soa he made hissen a drop, an'
after tawkin' a bit abaat ha things wor gooin on in a reglar way, he
axed if his uncle wor varry weel.
"Yos, he's varry weel, aw think; at ony rate, he wor all, reight when he
left here at braikfast time. Aw'm just gettin his dinner ready, an' tha
con tak it him if tha's a mind; tha'll find him up i'th' brickfield
yonder, doom summat at th' old well."
Jack sed he'd be glad to goa, for he wanted to see him befoor he went
back, soa as sooin as all wor ready he set off an' went towards th'
well, but befoor he gate up to it he 'heeard his uncle shaatin an'
bawlin an' gooin on as it he wor mad. "What's to do, uncle?" he sed as
sooin as he gate up to him, "whativer's to do?"
"Do! it's enuff to drive me cracked, aw do declare! Here have aw had a
lot o' chaps leadin watter to this old well for monny an' monnya day, so
as we can pump it as we want it into that long field, an' aw'm blowed if
summat hasn't getten to th' valve or summat, an' ther willn't a drop
come."
"Why what will yo have to do nah!" sed Jack.
"Do I what can aw do? Ther's nowt for it nah but for somdy to goa daan
an' set it reight, an' aw'm far to old for sich a job'."
"If that's all," sed Jack, "aw think aw con scrammel daan that pipe; ha
deep is is it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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