Yorksher Puddin': A Collection of the Most Popular Dialect Stories from the Pen of John HartleyHartley, John
General
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
When Labon gate his hat, once more onto th' top ov his heead, he went ta
see his owd deead friend, an' when he saw it ligged thear wi' nobbut
three legs, he vow'd vengeance agean them 'at had done it, an' declared
'at if iver he fan it aght, he'd mak 'em pay for it, for it wor nowt noa
less nor robbin' th' deead, an' he'd have' em tried for assasination.
Joa's wife wor aght when they took th' leg hooam, an' after they cut th'
steaks off they'd hid t' other part under th' coils. But they hadn't
been gooan soa varry long when shoo coom in, an' as shoo wor gettin' th'
pots aght o'th cubbord, shoo saw this dish' ful o' steaks. "A'a!" shoo
says, "it's just like yond chap to put thease in here an' say nowt
abaght it, but aw con just relish one o' thease to my drinkin', an' aw
dar say he'll want one, an' awm sure th' childer 'll do wi' a bit. We
hav'nt had as mich fleshmait i' awr haase afoor for many a wick. Fotch
that gridiron, Polly! We'st ha to do it o'th' top o'th' coil, for ther
isn't fat enuff to fry it."
Shoo worn't long afoor shoo had it nicely cooked, an' the tea made, an'
a thowt struck her' at shoo'd ax Sam's wife to her tea, for shoo knew
'at they didn't oft get steak at their haase, so Polly went an' browt
Mistress Sniggle an' all th' childer to ther tea, an' as ther wor eight
on' em, they varry sooin put thersen o'th' aghtside o'th' steak. They
set to wark then to get some clean pots ready for Joa, an' sent one
o'th' childer ta watch th' miln loise, ta tell Sam ta come wi' him. When
they come all wor nicely ready for' em, but ther minds worn't easy, for
ther'd been a policeman axing abaght 'em at ther wark, for Labon had
seen Sam at th' bottom o'th' steps, an' he thowt he knew summat abaght
it, soa they declared they'd niver own to it to a wick soul. As sooin as
they gate in they smell'd what wor up, for Joa knew ther wor noa mait i'
th' haase else, an' his wife had no brass to buy ony. He looked at Sam,
an' thear they stooid i' th' middle o' th' floor as white as two ghosts,
staring at one another, but they darn't spaik, an' booath waited to see
what t'other did.
"Come on to your drinkin'," said th' women.
"A'a! tha'rt a grand un, Joa," said his wife, "to put them steaks i' th'
cubbord an' niver say a word abaght it, an' tha knows ha fond aw am ov a
bit o' steak, an' it's a bit o' nice mait too, tho' it isn't as tender
as some. We've savvor'd it, aw con tell thi, for considerin' th' price
o' mait nah, a gooid steak's hardly within th' raich o' workin' fowk."
Joa wor dumb struck, he stirred his tea, but he couldn't tak his een off
th' steak. Sam rested his head on his hand an' complained abaght bein'
poorly.
"It's for want o' some gooid support, mun," said his wife, "get some o'
that mait into thi. It's made me feel a different body, awm as frisky as
a young foil, an' luk at th' childer, they're wrastlin' thear like young
bullocks. Mun, it puts a bit o'th' natur o'th' beast into 'em."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account