Yorkshire Oddities, Incidents, and Strange EventsBaring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
History
Yorkshire Oddities, Incidents, and Strange Events
Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
Legends -- England -- Yorkshire; Yorkshire (England) -- Miscellanea
He was by trade a weaver of flannel, and his loom, which was in the
upper room of the cottage in which he lived, might be heard by
passers-by going diligently from early morn to dewy eve. In this way he
supplied his few earthly wants, for he was a man of a very simple and
unobtrusive character; and he did not change either his dress or his
habits with the growing luxury of the times.
In matter of diet he was frugal, and he always stuck to the old oat-cake
and oatmeal porridge he had been accustomed to from childhood. "Avver
bread and avver me-al porritch" was what he called them, for he spoke
the broadest Yorkshire. Alas! the delightful oat-cake, thin, crisp, is
now a thing of the past in Horbury. There was an old woman made it, the
last of a glorious race of avver bre-ad makers in Horbury, some years
ago. But she has gone the way of all flesh; and the base descendants of
the oat-cake crunchers, the little men of to-day, sustain their
miserable lives on bakers' wheat bread.
David did not, as is the custom with Northerners now, speak two
languages--English and Yorkshire, according to the company in which they
find themselves; but on all occasions, and for all purposes, he adhered
to that peculiarly racy and piquant tongue, both in pronunciation and
phraseology, which was so well known to those who dwelt in the West
Riding of Yorkshire half a century ago, and which still more or less
prevails in that locality. Half a century ago every village had its own
peculiarity of intonation, its own specialities in words. A Horbury man
could be distinguished from a man of Dewsbury, and a Thornhill man from
one of Batley. The railways have blended, fused these peculiar dialects
into one, and taken off the old peculiar edge of provincialism, so that
now it is only to be found in its most pronounced and perfect
development among the aged.
The figure of David Turton was spare, his legs long and lean as
clothes-line props. He wore drab breeches and white stockings, a long
waistcoat of rather coarse black cloth, with a long coat of the same
material, much the pattern of that now affected by our bishops.
His features were small and sharp, his eye especially bright and full of
life; and having lost nearly all his teeth at a comparatively early age,
his pointed chin and nose inclined much towards each other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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