THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT, EXEMPLIFUD IN VARIOUS THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT, EXEMPLIFHD IN VARIOUS Dialogues!, Sales, & &ong, APPLICABLE TO THE COUNTY. TO WHICH IS ADDED, A GLOSSARY SUCH WORDS AS ARE LIKELY NOT TO BE UNDERSTOOD THOSE UNACQUAINTED WITH THE DIALECT. LONDON: JOHN KUSSELL SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON STREET, SOHO SQUARE. MDCCCXXXIX. SPECIMENS OP THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT, BY WAY OF DIALOGUE, c. MARGERY AND GULWELL; A. Dialogue between GULWELL, a London Registe?' Office Keeper, and MARGERY MOORPOOT, a Country Girl. Mar. Sur, an a body may be sa bowld. Ah's cum te ax an ye've sped about t'woman sarvant at ye advertahs'd for ? Gul. I have not ; come nearer, young woman. Mar. Let me steyk t'deer first, an ye pleease. Gul. What country woman are you ? Mar. Ah's Yorkshur by mah truly ? Ah wor bred and boom at Lahtle Yatton, aside o'Roseberry Toppin. Gul. Roseberry Toppin ! where is that, my pretty maid ? Mar. Sarta inly man ! ye knaw Roseberry? Ah thowght onny feeal bed knawn Roseberry. It's t'biggest hill i' all Yorkshur. It's aboon a mahle an' a hawf heegh, and as cawd as ice at t'top on't, t'yattest day i' summer ; that it is. Gul. You've been in some service, I suppose? Mar. Hey, Ah'll uphold ye hev E, ivver sin E wor neen year awd. Nea makkins! Ah'd a god's-penny at Stowse- ley market, hawf a year afoore'at E wor neen : an' as good a sarvant Ah've been, thof Ah say it mysel, as ivyer com within a pair o' deers. Ah can milk, kern, fother, beeak, brew, sheear, winder, caird, spin, knit, sew, an' deea ivvery thing 'at belangstiv an husbandman, as weell as onny lass 'at iwer ware clog,-shun ; an' as to my charicter, Ah defy onny boddy, gentle or simple, to say black's mah nail. Gul. Have you been in any service in London ? Mar. Hey, an' ye pleease. Ah liv'd wi' Madam Shrill- pipe, i' St. Paul's Kirk Garth ; but wor foorc'd to leeave mah pleeace afoor'at I'd been a week o'days in't. Gul. How so? 178821) 4 SPECIMENS OF Mar. Marry, because she ommost flighted and scauded me oot o' mah wits. She wor t' arrentest scaud 'at ivver E met wi' i* my boorn days. She had sartainly sike a tongue as nivver \vor i' onny woman's heead but her awn. It wad rin>, ring, ring, like a larum, frae moorn t' neeght. Then she wad put hersel into sike flusters, that her feeace wad be as black as t' reckon creak. Neea, for t' matter o' that, Ah wor nobbut reeghtly sarrad ; for Ah wor tell'd afoorehand, by some varra sponsible fowk, 'at she wor a mere donnot. Hoosumivver, as Ah fund mah murmy grow less and less ivvery day, (for Ah'd brought mah good siven an' twenty shillings to neen groats and two-pence,) Ah thowght it wad be better to tak' up wi' a bad pleeace, than no pleeace at all. Gul. And how do you like London ? Mar. Marry, sur, Ah like nowther egg nor shell on't. They're sike a set o' fowk as E nivver seed wi' my een. They laugh and fleer at a body like onny thing. Ah went nobbut t' other day f t' beeaker's shop for a leaf o' bread, an' they fell a giggling at me, as in Ah'd been yan o' t' grittest gawvisons i' t' world. Gul. Pray, what is a gawvison ? Mar. Whah you're a gawvison for nut knawing what it is. Ah thowght you Lunnoners hed knawn ivvery thing. A gawvison's a ninny-hammer. Noo d'ye think 'at Ah leak ought like a gawvison ? Gul. Not in the least, my pretty damsel. Mar. They may brag" as they will o' ther manners, but they've ne mair manners than a milner's horse. Ah can tell 'em that, that Ah can. Ah wish I'd been still at Canny- Yatton. Gul. As you had so great a liking to the place, why did you leave it? Mar. Marry, sur, Ah wor foorc'd, as yan may say, to leeave; t' squire wad'nt let me be ; by mah truly, sur, he wor efter me moorn, neean, an' neeght. If Ah wad but hae consented tiv his wicked ways, An mud hae hed gowd by gowpins, that Ah mud. Leeak ye, squire, says Ah, your'r mistakken i' me; Ah's neean o'ther soort o' cattle ; Ah's a varteous young woman, Ah'll asseer ye : ye'er other fowk'sfowk; wad ye be sike a teeastril as te ruin me? But all wadn't deea; he kept follo'in' an' follo'in',, an' teazin' an' teazin' me. At lang run, Ah tell'd my awd deeam, an' she advahs'd me to gang to Lun'on, to be out ov hiz way, that she did, like an honest woman as she wor, THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. Ah went to ray cousin Isbel, an' says Ah tiv her, Isbel, says Ah, will t' gowa to Lunnon ? Ah tell'd t' yal affair atween me an't squire, Odsbobs, my lass, says she, Ah'll gang wi' thee to t' world's end. An' away we com i' good earnest. Gul. It was a very varteous resolution. Pray how old are you ? Mar. All's neenteen come Collop-Monday. Gul. Would you undertake a house-keeper's place ? Mar. Ah's flay'd Ah can't mannish't, if it beeant in a husbandman's house. Gul. It is a very substantial farmer's, in Buckingham- shire. I am sure you will do ; I will set you down for it. Your name. Mar. Margery Moorpoot, an* ye pleease. Gul. How do you spell it ? Mar. Neea, makkings ! Ah kna'.v nowght o' speldring ; Ah's nea scholard. Gul. Well, I shall write to him this evening. What wages do you ask ? Mar. Neea, marry, for t' matter o' that, Ah wad'nt be ower stiff about wages. Gul. Then I can venture to assure you of it. You must give me half-a-crown, my pretty maid. Our fee is only a shilling for a common place; but for a housekeeper's we have always half-a-crown. Mar. There's tweea shillings, an' yan, tweea, three, four, fahve, six penn'orth o' brass, wi' a thoosand thenks. A blessing leeght o' ye, for Ah's seer ye'er t'best friend Ah've met wi' sin E com fra' Canny Yatton, that are ye. When mun E call ageean, sur? Gul. About the middle of next week. Mar. Sur, an ye pleease, your sarvant. AWD DAISY. AN ECLOGUE. By the late Rev. T. Browne, Hull. Goorgy. Weel met, good Robert ; saw ye my awd ineer ? I've lated her an hoor, i' t' loonin here ; But howsumivver, spite of all my care, I cannot spy her nowther heead nor hair. 4 6 SPECIMENS OF Robert. Whaw, Goorgy, I've te teyl ye dowly news, Syke as I's varra seer will make ye muse : I just this minnet left your poor awd tyke, Dead as a steean, i' Johnny Dobson's dyke. Goorgy. Whoor ! what's that, Robin ? tellusowre ageean; You're joking, or you've mebby been mistean. Robert. Nay, marry, Goorgy, I seer I can't bewrang, You kno I've keyn'd awd Daisy now se lang ; Her bread-rat sh'd feeace, an' twa white hinder legs, Preav'd it was hor, as seer as eggs is eggs. Goorgy. Poor thing ! what deead then ? had she laid there lang ? Whor abouts is she ? Robert, will ye gang ? Robert. I care nut, Goorgy, I han't mich te dea, A good hour's labour, or may happen twea ; Bud as I rawer like to hing behynd, When I can dea kaundness tiv a frynd, An' I can help ye, wi' my hand or team, I'll help to skin her, or to bring her heam. Goorgy. Thank ye, good Robert. I can't think tbelike, How t' poor awd creature tumbled inte t' dyke. Robert. Ye maund she'd fun hersen just gaun te dee, An' sea laid down by t' side, (as seeams to me,) An* when she felt the pains o' death within, She'd fick'd an' struggled, an' se towpled in. Goorgy. Meastlickly ; bud what, was she dead outreet, When ye furst gat up ? when ye gat t' furst sect ? Robert. Youse hear : as I was gaun down't looan I spy'd A ecoore or mair o' crows by t' gutter side ; All se thrang, hoppin in, and hoppin out, I wonder'd what i' the warld they were about. I leuks, an' then I sees an awd yode laid, Gaspin' an' pantin' there, an' ommost dead ; An' as they pick'd its een, and pick'd ageean, It just cud lift its leg, and give a greean ; But when I fand awd Daisy was their prey, I wav'd my hat, an' shoo'd 'em all away. Poor Dais ! ye maund, she's now woorn fairly out. She's lang been quite hard sett te trail about. But yonder, Goorgy, loo' ye whoor she's laid, An' twea 'r three Nanpies chatt'rin owre her head. Goorgy. Aye, marry! this I nivver wish'd to see, She's been se good, se true a frynd te me ? An' is thou cum tc this, my poor awd rneer ? Thou's been a trusty sarvant monny a year, THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. An' better treatment thou's desarv'd fra me, Than thus neglected in a dyke te dee ! Monny a daywark we ha' wrought togither, An' bidden monny a blast o' wind and weather; Monny a lang dree mahle, owre moss an' moor, An' monny a hill and deeal we've travell'd owre ; But now, weeas me ! thou'll nivver trot ne niair, Te nowther kirk nor market, spoort nor fair j And now, fort' future, thoff I's awd and learn, I mun be foorc'd te walk, or stay at heam. Ne mair thou'l bring me cooals fra' Blakay brow, Or sticks fra't wood, or turves fra' Leaf how cow. My poor awd Daise ! afoor I dig thy greeave, Thy weel-worn shoon I will for keep-seeakes seeave ; Thy hide, poor lass ! I'll hev it taun'd wi' care, 'Twill mak' a cover te my awd airm chair, An' pairt an appron for my wife te weear, When card in' woul, or weshin' t' parlour fleer. Deep i' t' cawd yearth I will thy carcase pleeace, 'At thy poor beeans may lig, and rist i' peaace ; Deep i' t' cawd yearth, 'at dogs may'nt scrat thee out, An' rahve thy flesh, an' trail thy beeans about. Thou's been se faithful for se lang te me, Thou sannut at thy death neglected be ; Seyldom a Christian 'at yan now can fynd, Wad be mair trusty or mair true a frynd. THE INVASION. AN ECLOGUE. Impius IUKC tarn culta novalia miles habebit ? VIRO. A wanton wether had disdain'd the bounds That kept him close confin'd to Willy's grounds ; Broke through the hedge, he wander'd far away, He knew not whither, on the public way. As Willy strives, with all attentive care, The fence to strengthen, and the gap repair, His neighbour Roger, from the fair return'd, Appears in sight, in riding graith adorn'd ; Whom, soon as Willy fast approaching spies, Thus to his friend, behind the hedge, he cries : Willy. Hoo de ye, Roger ? ha' ye been at t' fair ? Hoo gangs things ? meead ye onny bargains there ? 8 SPECIMENS OF Roger Ah knaw nut, Willy ; things deeant luke ower weel, Coorn satles fast, thof beeans '11 fetch a deeal; Te sell t' awd intack barley Ah desaund, But cudn't git a price te suit my maund ; What wi' rack rents, an' sike a want o' trade, Ah knawn't hoo yan's te git yan's landlords paid ; Mare ower an' that, they say i't spring o't year, Franch is intarmin'd on't te 'tack us here. Willy. Yea, mun ! what are they cummin hither for ? Depend on't they'd far better nivver stor. Roger. True, Willy ; nobbut Inglishmen '11 stand By yan another, o' ther own good land ; They'll never suffer (Ah's be bun to say) The Franch to tak a single sheep away ; Feightin for heeame, upo' ther awn fair field, All t' pow'r i' France cud nivver mak 'em yield. Willy. Whah, seer you cannot think, when put te t' pinch, 'An onny Inglishman '11 ivver flinch ! If t' Franch deea cum here, Roger, Ah'll be hang'd, An* they deeant git ther sens reeght soondly bang'd. Ah can't bud think, fthof Ah may be misteean,) Nut monny on 'em '11 get back ageean. Roger. Ah think nut, Willy ; bud sum fowks say, Our Inglish fleet let Franch ships get away, When they wor laid (thoo knaws) i Bantry Bay, 'At they cud nivver all hae geen 'em t' slip, Bud t' Inglish wanted nut t' tak a ship. Willy. Eah ! that's all lees ! Roger. Ah dunnot say it's true, It's all unknawn to syke as me and you. Hoo deea we knaw when fleets deea reeght or wrang ? Ah whooap it's all on'tfause, but seea talks gang. Hoosivver, this Ah knaw, 'at when they pleease, Oor sailors awlus beat 'em upo' t' seeas ; And if they nobbut sharply leeak aboot, They need n't let a single ship cum oot. For Howe, lang sen, thoo knaws, did bang 'em weel, An' Jarvis meead the braggadoshas feel ; An' Duncan beeat th' Franch at Camperdown, Whilst Nelson gat in Egypt vast renown ; An' tho" at last, poor fellow, he did fall, He liv'd, thenk God, until he beat 'em all ! Why varry latly our brave lads hev ta'en Th' fleets and stoors belanging te th' Dean ; THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 9 An' yet they'll drub 'em weel, Ah dunnot fear, An' keep 'em fairly off fra' landin' here. Willy. Ah whooap seea. Roger ; but an' if they deea Cum ower, Ah then sal sharpen my awd leea. What thof Ah can bud ov a lahtle booast, Ye knaw yan wad'nt hae that lahtle lost : Ah's send oor Mally an' all t' bairns away, An' Ah mysen '11 by the yamsteead stay. Ah'll feight if need ; an' if Ah fall, wha then, Ah's suffer all the warst mishap mysen ; Was Ah bud seer my wife and bairns wor seeaf, Ah then sud be te dee content eneeaf. Roger. Reeght, Willy, mun ! what an' they put us teea't, Ah will mysen put forrad mah best feeat. What thof Ah's awd, Ah's nut seea easily scar'd ; On his awn midden' an awd cock feights hard. They say a Franchman's turn'd a different man, A braver, better soldier, ten te yan ; But let the Franch be turn'd to what they will, They'll find 'at Inglishmen are Inglish still ; O' ther awn grund they'll nowther flinch nor flee, They'll owther congker, or they'll bravely dee. A COCK AND BULL STORY. What dusteh think, Dick ? Whiah Ah noant, Tom. Whiah then Ah'll tell thee. Yesterneet, a bit afoore it wur dark, a Foomerd gat croppen up intot' Hen-Bawks, an' freeten'd t' ode Cock doon intot' Ows Beeas, an' meead him breckt' band, an' dingt deer off t' creaks ; awea E went full smack ower't Yat, (brack t' sneck and twa slices off,) reight intot' Fofe Clooas ; he ran owert' Pleeaf, an' cut yan ov his legs sadly o' t' Cooter. Jooan Chopsticks and t' wreet wur cumming wee his little weffingdog, and freeten'd him thruff t' gap into t' Coo-pastur, an't Bull set up a great beeal, an' set off wee him. Our lads ran efter 'em, an' it wur hoo thoo ! an' noo thoo ! a greeat while, tilt' ows lowpt owert' hedge intil a line-dike, and Bull efter him, reeght atop on his back. They meead a bonny blash i' t' dike. T' lads ran yam an' fetcht a cart reeap, an' threw't owert bull hoorns, an' seeah gat him oot ageean ; but t' ows gat awea fra 'em, an' ran ontot' moor, an' trade an ode steg to deeath; bud thare wur a goodly bargains on him, for he A 2 10 SPECIMENS OF wur good for nowt ! Then he lowpt ower a high stee into a tatee clooas, an' thade been macking a tatee pie E yah corner, an' he gat atop on't, an' ommost trade it all te bits. Man 'at oand clooas cum and roister'd like mad, an' sware he'd mack oor maister pay for all 't tatees. What cud we say tot' fellah? for he seeam'd quiet lunjies, an' Ah thowt heed stuckent 'ows wi't muckfork heed in his hand. Bud when his passion wur keeal'd a bit, he sed, " Cum me lads, let's try if weh can't drive him into i' helm an' catch him, that yeh may get him yam ageean." Seeah, efter a greeat deal te deea, we gat him droven intot' helm, an't beeast wur ommost freeten'd oot on't wits, an' wur all on a muck sweeat, an' trimmel'd like an Espin leeaf; we put a helter aboot his heead, an' led him doon t' moor looan, an' a lang, dree, dowly way it is, an' as mucky as mucky ! At last we gat him yam, an' wur all reeght tir'd wi't jubberment we'd had. When we'd tell'd oor maister all about it, he sed, "You've had a weant deeal a trouble aboot this rotten beast ; fassen him in his beeas ageean, an' give him sum hay, an' mack yast back, for here's a yat yall posset for yer supper." THE HIREING. A Dialogue between JOHN and ROBIN, two Husbandmen, John. Robin, you've don'd yoursen reeght seean, Ah sudden't wonder bud you've left awd deeame, An's boon, mayhap, te seek a pleeace : An' if seea, Rob, its just my kease. Se, if ye like, we'll gang tegether, An' tawk, like greeat folks, about t' weather. Robin. Why, John, you've gest; Ah've left awd lass, For things wor cum to sike a pass, That for my life Ah cudden't stay, An' se, thou sees, Ah's cum'd away. John. Why, Robin, Ah cud like to hear What's made ye leeave your place this year ; For Ah thought ye'd a merry life, An' bid fair there te get a wife. Robin. An' seea Ah did at furst, thou sees, Till deeame brought back hur bonny niece Fra Scarbro', where she went tid Spaws, To drink scat waiter Ah suppose ; THE f ORKSHIRE DIALECT. 11 And ever sen that bonny lass Tid farm did cum, t' awd crazy ass Has ta'en it in hur silly head, That Ah wi' Nancy wad get wed. Bud Ah fun out, before 'twas lang, That deeame did wish te wed hur man ; Bud Ah was not ower fond o' th' stuff, Which put t' awd lady in a huff. Nay, yance she teld me hur awn sen, If Ah thought weel o' th' match, why then She quickly wad give me hur hand, Five hundred pounds, wi' house an' land ; And, Bob, says she, it's no bad chance, Better behawf than marrying Nance ; For she has nowther coo nor horse, An' varry lahtle in hur purse ; Bud Ah expect thou'll counsel keep, An' leeak afoore thou taks that leeap. An' se Ah did, and went away ; For as Ah didden't like her, John, Ah thought it best for te begone, An' leave my deeame and hur niece Nance, An' at these stattis tak my chance. Now it fell out that very day, As through the fair they took their way, Young Robin with a country 'Squire Had the good fortune for to hire. On Whitsun-Monday, at a dance, He cbanc'd to meet his sweetheart Nance ; She liv'd hard by, and so, you see, Robin and her did quickly agree ; Rob clapt love to her, and next year This loving couple married were ; At which his deeame did rave like mad, But dying left 'em all she had. THE BELLMAN OF RIPON. The Bellman's Cry at Ripon, in Yorkshire, in a great Frost and fall of Snow. I is to gie notidge, that Joanie Pickergill yeats yewn to neit, to moarn at moarn, an' to moarn at neit, an' nea langer, as long as storm hods, cause he can git na mair eldin. 12 SPECIMENS OF The Translation. I am to give notice, that John Pickersgill heats his oven to-night, to-morrow morning, and to-morrow at night, and no longer, as long as the storm lasts, because he can get no more fuel. A DIALOGUE On the present indecent Mode of Dress. Simon. Good morrow, Johnny, hoo deea ye deea ? If you're boon my rooad, A'll gang wi' ye. Hoo cawd this morning t' wind dus blaw ; Ah think we seean sal hae s.um snaw. Johnny. Heigh, Simon, seea we sal ere lang. Ah's boon to t' toon ; Ah wish ye'd gang, For Ah've a dowghter leeatly deead, Ah's boon te git her coffin meead. Simon. Heigh ! Johnny, deead ! whah seer you're wrang, For she wur wi' us e'er seea lang ; An' oft wi' her, i' yonder booer, Ah've jooak'd an' laugh'd full monny an hoor. Bud first, good Johnny, tell me this, What meead her dee ? what's been amiss ? Johnny. To tell thee, Simon, noo Ah's boon: Thoo sees Ah sent her to yon toon To t' skeeal, an' next to leearn a trade, By which she was te git her breead ; Bud when she first com yam to me, She had neea petticoats, ye see ; At first Ah fan she'd bud her smock, An' ower that her tawdry frock ; Sike wark as this it rais'd my passion, An' then she tell'd me it was t' fassion ; Besides her appron, efter all, She'd quite misteean it for a shawl ; A sartin sign she sense did lack, She'd teean and thrown it ower hur back ; Hur shoon had soles sa varra thin, They'd nought keep out, but let wet in ; And round her neck she lapp'd a ruff Of rabbit skin, or sum sike stuff; Instead of wearing a good cloak, Te keep hur warm when she did walk, THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 13 Fra heame to market, or to fair, Or yance a week to church repair. Besides, thoo sees, she had neea stays, An' scarce eneeaf by hoaf o' clais ; An' hur white hat turn'd up befoore, All meead her leeak just like a wh re ! Simon. Wha, Johnny, stop, you'r oot o' breath ; Bud hoo cum she te git hur deeath ? Johnny. Wha, Simon, stay, an' thoo sal hear : I't next pleeace mun hur breests wor bare ; Hur neeaked airms teeashe lik'd te show, E'en when t' cawd bitter wind did blaw ; An' when Ah talk'd about it then, (You see Ah's awlus by my sen,) Hur mother awlus leean'd hur way. It matter'd nowght what Ah'd to say. Ah tell'd my wife hoo it wad be, An' seea she can't lig't bleeam o' me ; Says Ah, foore she's twice ten years awd, She seer te git hur deeath o' cawd. For this mishap Ah bleeam that feeal, For spoiling hur at Boording Skeeal ; Noo hed she meead hur larn hur letters, Instead o' dressing like hur betters, She'd nut se seean hae gitten cawd, An' meaby liv'd till she wor awd. Ah's seer its all greeat fowk's pursuit, To hev, like Eve, a birth-day suit. Simon. Thoo's reeght, good Johnny, reeght Ah say, That Ah've obsarv'd afoore to-day ; An' noo i' toon, as each yan passes, Yan can't tell ladies fra bad lasses ; An' oft Ah've thought, when t' cawd wind blaws, They'd deea reeght weel te freeghten craws : For it wad blaw 'em seea aboot, Nea cashun then ther'd be te shoot. Just seea if that thee and me An ugly monstrous thing sud see, Away we beath sud run reeght fast, As lang as ever we cud last. Johnny. Hey, Simon, seeea we sud, Ah seear ; Bud noo to t' toon we're drawing neear, Thoo needn't tell what Ah hevsed Aboot my dowghter being deead. 14 SPECIMENS OF Good morrow, Simon, fare thee weel ; Ah sa, noo mind thoo doesn't tell. Simon. Neea that Ah weeant, whahl Ah hev breeath, Ah'll nobbut say Site's starv'd te deeath. DARBY AND JOAN, AND THEIR DAUGHTER NELL. A Dialogue. In a village in Yorkshire a farmer did dwell, Whose wife was call'd Joan, and their daughter call'd Nell She was mother's pet, and so de'ye see, At sixteen years old wish'd a lady to be ; But her dancing and dressing sore griev'd the man, Who to vent his complaint to Joan thus began : Darby. Joan, Ah noo hev thought sea mich aboot it. Ah seerly never mair shall doot it ; At moorn an' neeght, an' neeght an' moorn, Ah sumtimes wish Ah'd ne'er been boom. Joan. Whah, Darby, prethee let me see, Ah whoap it's nowght 'at's bad o' me. Darby. Thee, Joan ! neea marry, neea sike thing ; Think bad o' thee ! 'twad be a sin ! Ah think indeed Ah was a feeal Too sendoor Nell to t' Boordin'-Skeeal; Sike mauky feeals as them, Ah think, Hae till'd her head with pride and stink j For, sin she went, she's grown sea fine, She can't deea noo without her wine, When t' dinners ower'd ; an' she's sea nice, She weant eat puddin meead o' rice ; Thof when at skeeal, an' put t' pinch, Fra sike gud stuff she'd nivver flinch j An' all her nooations are seea rais'd, It's fit to drive her fathther craz'd. Nut 'at Ah care aboot t' fond lass, Neea mair than this it taks my brass ; An* wi' her fine lung labbring tail, She'll git her Hither into jail. Joan. Whah, Darby, bud thoo kna-.vs there's t' 'Squire, An' he mayhap will Nell admire ; An' efterall their noise an' strife, Thoo knaws t' young 'Squire wants a wife. THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 15 Then let's be seer te mak her smart, An' teych her hoo te play her paart ; Te draw him on she seean will leearn, An' then, thoo knaws, 'at t' wark is deean. Hooseer, Ah'll try an' deea my best, An' leeave to thee to mannish t' rest. Darby. Bud then suppooase oor plot sud fail, An' me for det be sent te t' jail, Poor Nell wad nivver be a wife, An' hev te labour all hur life ; For efter bein seea browght up, Hoo can she ivver bide te stoop ? Te gang te sarvice, or te spin, Or ivver te deea onny thing ? Joan. Wha, Darby, leeave it all te me, Ah'll mannish t' weel, an' that thoo'll see. And so she did, as fame reports ; For the 'Squire being fond of rural sports, Did sometimes to the farm repair, (After a chace of fox or hare,) And she invited him to dine On Nell's birth-day they'd pie and chine, The young 'Squire lik'd the fare so well, That he soon after married Nell ; And as they drove to church doon t' looan, Old Darby cried Weel deean, oor Joan ! THE SWEEPER AND THIEVES. A TALE, BY D. LEWIS. [This Tale is founded on fact, and happened at Leeming Lane, a few years ago.] A sweeper's lad was late o' th' neeght, His slap-shod shoon had leeam'd his feet ; He call'd to see a good awd deeame, 'At monny a time had trigg'd his weame ; (For he wor then fahve miles fra yam.) He ax'd i' t' lair te let him sleep, An' he'd next day their chimlers sweep. They supper'd him wi' country fare, Then show'd himtul his hooal i' t' lair. 16 SPECIMENS OF He crept intul his streeahy bed, His pooak o' seeat beneath his heead ; He wor content, nur car'd a pin, An' his good friend then lock'd him in. The lair frae t' hoose a distance stood, Between 'em grew a lahtle wood. Aboot midneeght, or nearer moorn, Two thieves brack in te steeal their coorn ; Hevin a leeght i' t' lantern dark, Seean they te winder fell te wark ; An' wishing they'd a lad te fill, Young brush, (whea yet had ligg'd quite still,) Thinkin' 'at men belang'd te t' noose, An' that he noo mud be o' use, Jump'd doon directly on te t' fleear, An' t' thieves beeath ran oot at deear ; Nur stopt at owt nur thin nur thick, Fully convinc'd it wor awd Nick. The sweeper lad then ran reeght seean T' t' hoose, an* tell'd 'em what wor deean : Maister an' men then quickly raise, An' ran te t' lair wi' hawf ther cleeas. Twea horses, seeks, an' leeght they fand, Which had been left by t' thievish band ; These round i' t' neybourheead they cried, Bud nut an awner e'er applied ; For neean durst horses awn or seeks, They wor so freeghten'd o' ther necks. They seld the horses, an', of course, Put awf o' the brass i' Booty's purse; Desiring when he com that way, He'd awlus them a visit pay, When harty welcum he sud have, Because he did ther barley save. Brush chink'd the guineas in his hand, An* oft to leeak at 'em did stand, As heeame he wistling teak his way, Blessin' t' awd deeame wha let him stay, An' sleep i' t' lair, when, late o' t' neeght, His slap-shod shoon had leeam'd his feet. THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 17 THE POCKET-BOOKS. A Dialogue, occasioned by anew Pocket-Book being thrown into a desk where an old one had been laid. BY D. LEWIS. New Pocket-Book. Why am I here a captive plac'd, And with such company disgrac'd ? I may with reason now complain ; Fine books, like men, were made in vain. Old Pocket-Book. Thy keease, kind frind, can't be se hard, As thy new maister is a bard; Thefass-skin leeavs 'at thoo'll conteean He'll write 'em ower an' ower ageean, Wi' sonnets, epigrams, an' odes, Wi' elegies, an' episodes ; Thoo'll beear the copies ov his sangs, An' gang wi' him where'er he gangs. If there sud be a country fair, He ten te yan '11 tak thee there ; Keep thee on high an' hollidays, When he puts on his better cleeas ; If bill or nooat fall to his share, He will commit it to thy care, Till monny years, when thou may be As ragg'dan' just as poor as me. Dooant let grief reign, nor thy heart ache, He'll keep thee for thy giver's seeak. New Pocket-Book. Dost thou compare thyself to me ? If thou could'st but thy picture see, Thy ragged coat, thy dirty look, Scarce worthy of the name of book. And must I to the fields retire, Be prostituted to the lyre, Companion of rustic swain, And ne'er return to town again ? Old Pocket-Booh. True, thoo of heigher kin may boost, Of finer shape, an' bigger cost; Thoo's neeat an* smart, Ah mun alloo, Bud thoo will quit that bonny hue, When thoo, like me, hes hardships boom, An' been by toil and labour woorn ; I't hoose or field, by streeam or wood, Ah constant i' my station stood ; 18 SPECIMENS OF An' nivver did mah aid refuse Te sarve mah maister, an' the muse. Te gratify the rhyming streean, He wrate an' rubb'd, an' wrate ageean ; That Ah, like him, lang time hev toil'd, Which hes mah yance-fine lustre spoil'd. Thoo's yet a stranger to the world, Where things appear unequal hurl'd ; Still different stations ther mun be, Thof monny mair'll freeat like thee. Then dooant lament thy turns of fate, Bud reconcile thee to thy state. ADDRESS TO RICHES. Bonny lass, wi' yallow hair, Iv thoo hez an hoor te spare, Pray lig aside thy shyness; Ah'll call thee riches, munny, gold, Or onny neeame by which thoo's told, Or owt te please thy highness. Thoo hardly heeds the tryin hoor O' sons o' Genius, when they're poor Thoo seldom will restoore 'em ; Bud them that nivver sout thy smile, Blockheads an' dunces, live i' style, Had fadders boom afoore 'em. It's munney maks the meer te gang, Maks rang seeam reeght, an' reeght seeam rang ; There's nowght i' t' warld can match it. E tackin munney maist fowks prize If onny body it despise, It's 'cause they cannut catch it. Forseeak the mizar's clooase retreat, The coffers ov the guilty greeat, Wi' plund'rin fill'd, or gamlin ; Sike gert fowks haz abuse the state, On wnea the men o' munney waite, That keeps poor fowks cramlin'. Ah dunriot want a gert estate, For if Ah did, thoo'd let me wait, That Ah may seeafly lend thee ; Nut ower mitch, te mack me proud, Leeak ower t' meean a man a crood, But just eneeaf te mend me. THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 19 Cum wi' a swarm o* lucks an' looaves, That oft gangs wi' thee when thoo moves, Or cum thy sen wi' single hand; O' guinea nooats tack thoo the shap, Or o' king's pictures a gert slap, Or ten punds bank of Ingland. Then, frends se shy, i' time o' need, Will gi' me what E want wi' speed, An' stick as clooase as hunny ; Gi' ther advice, ther cash, ther yal, Or heear or tell a merry teeal, An' all through thee sweet munny ADDRESS TO POVERTY. Scoolin maid, o' iron brow, Thy sarvant will address thee now, For thoo invites the freedum, By drivin oft' my former friends, To leeak to ther awn private ends, Just when Ah chanc'd lo need 'em. Ah've hed thy cumpany ower lang, 111 leakin weean ! thoo must be rang, Thus to cut short my jerkin. Ah ken thee weel Ah knaw thy ways, Thoo's awlus kept back cash and cleeas, An' foorc'd me to hard workin. To gain o' thee a yal day's march Ah strave, bud thoo's se varra arch, For all Ah still strave faster ; Thoo's tript my heels and meead me stop, By small slain coorn, or failin crop, Or ivv'ry foul disaster. If Ah my maund may freely speeak, Ah reeally dunnut like thy leeak, Whativver shap thoo's slipt on ; Thoo's awd an' ugly, deeaf an' blinnd, A feeind afoore, a freeght behind, An' fooul as Mudder Shipton. Fooaks say, an' it is nowght bud truth, Thoo hes been wi' me from my youth, An' gi'en me monny a thumper ; Bud noo thoo cums, wi' all thy weight, Fast failin' frae a fearful height, A downreeght Milton plumper. 20 SPECIMENS OF Sud plenty, frae her copious hoorn, Teeam oot te me good crops o' coorn, An' prosper weel my cattle, An' send a single thoosand pund, 'Twad bring all things compleeatly roound, An' Ah wad gi' thee battle. Noo, Poverty, ya thing Ah beg, Like a poor man withoot a leg, See prethee daun't deceeave me ; Ah knaw it's i' thy poower te grant The lahtle faver 'at Ah want 'At thoo wad gang 'an leeave me. THE RACE. Noo, Bob, my lad, to-moorn's the- day, All t' spoort at t' race we'll see ; Wi' t' lark we'll rise, an' trudge away, An' varra fine we'll be. Te see 'em ride, thoo knaws, seea fast, As roound about they'll gang, They'll whip an' spur, te nut be last, Ah say noo ! dust t' lang ! What fouks all fine we theer sail see, I' diffurent colours drest ; An' lasses, te cheat sike as thee, Will be all i' ther best. An' theer we'll stop while t' races last, An' all't fine fouks are geean ; Fra thence to t' fair we'll trudge reet fast, To reeach it afore neean. Tegither then that day we'll keep, Wi' sticks i' hand seea fine ; At sum o' t' shows we'll tak a peep, Ah's seer that day we'll shine ! Theer solgers will be ganging oot, Wi' drums an' fifes seea grand, Recrutin for young lads aboot, Te fi^ht by seea an' land. Noo wi' impatience we deea wait The cummin o' that day ; We'll off seea seean, an' stop seea late, Cum, Bob, noo let's away. THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 21 THE FAIR. Ye loit'rin minnits faster flee, Ye're all ower slow behawf for me, That wait impatient for the moorning ; Te-moorn's the lang, lang wish'd for fair, Ah'll try te shine the foormust theer, Myseu i' finest cleeas adorning, Te grace the day. Ah'll put my best white stockings on, A pair o' new calf-letther shoon, My cleean-wesh'd goori o' printed cotton ; Aboot my neck a muslin shawl, A new silk hankecher ower all, Wi' sike a careless_air Ah'll put on, Ah'll shine that day. My paartner Ned, Ah knaw, thinks he, " Ah'll mak mysen secure o' thee,'' He's often sed he'd treeat me rarely ; Bud Ah sal think ov other fun, Ah'll yaim for sum rich farmer's son, An' cheeat oor simple Neddy fairly. Seea sly that day. Why sud Ah nut succeed as weel, An' get a man full oot genteel, As awd John Darby's dowghter Nelly ; Ah think mysen as good as she, She can't mak cheese or spin like me, That's mair 'an beauty, let me tell ye, On onny day. Then, hey ! for spoorts an' puppy shows, An' teroptin spice-stalls rang'd i' rows, An' danglin dolls, by t' necks all hangin ; A thoosand other pratty seeghts, An' lasses, trail'd alang the streets, Wi' lads, te t' yal-hoose gangin, Te drink that day. Let's leeak at t' winder Ah can see't, It seeams as thof 'twas growing leeght, The cloods wi' eearly rays adoornin ; Ye loit'ring minnits faster flee, Ye're all ower slaw behawf for me, 'At wait impatient for the moornin, O' sike a day ! 22 SPECIMENS OF SONG. When Ah wor a wee lahtle totterin bairn, An' hed nobbut just getten short frocks, When te gang Ah at first was beginnin te lairn, O' my broo Ah gat monny hard knocks. Bud se waik, an' se silly, an' helpless was I, Ah was awlus a tumblin down then ; While my mother wad twattle me gently, an' cry, " Honey, Jenny, tack care o' thy sen." Bud wen Ah grew bigger, an' gat te be strang, 'At Ah cannily ran all aboot By mysen, wheer Ah lik'd, then awlus mud gang, Withoot being tell'd aboot owt. When, hooivver, Ah com to be sixteen year awd, An' rattl'd an' ramp'd amang men, My mother wad call o' me in an' wad scaud, An' cry "Huzzay ! tak care o' thysen." Ah've a sweetheart cums noo upo' Setterday neeghts, An' he swears 'at he'll mack me his wife ; My mam grows se stingy, she scauds an she fleeghts, An' twitters me oot o' my life. But she may leeak soor, an' consait hersen wise, An' preeach ageean likin' young men; Sin Ah's grown a woman, her clack Ah'll despise, An' Ah's marry! tack care o' mysen. A LETTER, Discovered in the Library of a deceased Nobleman, and supposed to have been written during the Rebellion. MY LOORD, Ye knaw theer's an awd proverb a man can dea nea mare nea he can dea wur Ah the d 1 hissen Ah can na mack men gang an' they ha' nea mind to't ; as angry as ye seeam wi' me, gin ye'd beean heer yersen, ye cud na mack 'em stir yan feeat, tho ye hed swoorn yer heart oot; when Ah reead tull 'em yer Loordship's last letter, they tost ther heeads an' gang ther gate, but yance gane they care nut a fart what Ah say tul 'em. Ah reead tul' em twice yer Loordship's last orders, an' they haunded me t' Act o' Par- lement, ye knaw what Ah rneean ; co' Ah tul 'em is it seea te dea, the deeal gang wi' ye all, for ther's nea dippendance on 'em. Yer Loordship may rist assured of my indivvers, THE YORKSHIRE DIALECT. 23 that Ah will be wi' ye the day efter Munday wi' all Ah'm cappable o' bringin "alang wi' me ; i' t' meeantime subscribe mysen yer Loordship's most obedent vassal an' humble sarvant te cummand, Chief Constable. THE YORKSHIRE TYKE. Ah iz i' truth a country youth, Neean us'd teea Lunnon fashions ; Yet vartue guides, an' still presides, Ower all mah steps an' passions, Neea coortly lear, bud all sincere, Neea bribe shall ivver blinnd me ;- If thoo can like a Yorkshire tike, A rooague thoo'll nivver finnd me. Thof envy's tung, seea slimlee hung, Wad lee aboot oor country, Neea men o' t' eearth booastgreterwurth, Or mare extend ther boounty. Oor northern breeze wi' uz agrees, An' does for wark weel fit uz ; I' public cares, an' all affairs, Wi' honor we acquit uz. Seea gret a maund is ne'er confiand Tiv onny shire or nation ; They geean meeast praise weea weel displays A leearned iddicasion. Whahl rancour rolls i' lahtle souls, By shallo views dissarning, They're nobbut wise 'at owlus prize Gud manners, sense, and leearnin. Ah and E, I Asseer, assure Ax, ask Aboon, above Airm8, arms An's afe, I am afraid Awn, own > \wd, old Vwlas, always Asta, hast thou Advertahs'd, advertis'd Beeak, bake A GLOSSARY. Beeons, bones Beeal, bellow Bidden, endured Blash, dash or plash Breead-ratch'd, broad strip'd Bairns, children Bang, to thrash Booer, bower Behawf, by half Boorn, born Booast, boast Bonny, pretty Beeas, ox stall Broo, brow Beclarted, bedaubed Crake, crow Congker, conquer Cleeas, clothes Cawd, cold Chimler, chimney Ceauke, cook Cragg, rock Coorn, corn 24 A GLOSSARY. Cawfe, calf Heeigh, high Rahve, tear Com, came Heeame, home Reckon creak, a crook Consait, conceit Hey, yes suspendedfroma beam Creaks, hooks Iddicasion, education within the chimney, to Cramlin', lamely Intack, inclosure hang pots andpans or Foomerd, a polecat Jub\)erment,botherment Reeght, right Gowd, gold Kern, churn Sare, sore Donnot, fool Kirk, church Sarrad, served Dowly, dismal Knaw, know Steyk t' deer, shut th Deea, do Keease, case door Dyke, ditch or pond Lahtle, little Skeeal, school Deer, door Lated, sought Seek, sack Ding, throio Lig, lie Sal, shall D&ft,foolish Looaning, lane Slaw, slow Dean, done Leeght, light Sum, some Deeame, dame Lair, a barn Sike, such Draff, grains Leeatly, lately Seea, so Duz, does Leeak, look Soondly, soundly Doon,down Leeaf, loaf Scaud, scold Dee, die Leea, scythe Seer, sure Din, noise Labbring, toilsome Slain-Corn,com stopped Dree, long Lunjies, spiteful in its growth by un- Dusta, does thou Mah, my kind seasons Don'd, drest Mannish, manage S&tles, falls Een, eyes Mebby, perhaps Sped, succeeded Ey, yes Meer, a mare Sneck, a latch Eldin, fuel Mistean, mistaken Steg, a gander Eneeaf, enough Mud , might Stee, a stile Ewer, udder . Mauke, whimsical Ther, their Feeat,/oo< Mitch, much Thowght, thought Fra, from Mare, more Tike, an old horse or F&Tft, fault Moorn, morning mare, a man Fain, glad Muck, dirt Teeastrill, villain Finnd, fand, fund, found Meead, mdae Twee, two Flung, thrown Mack, make Teych, teach Flay'd, afraid Maund, mind Tr'igg'd, filled Feeal, fool Mahle, mile Tatee-pie, a heap of po- Fleeght, to scold Makkings, tatoes covered over Fleer, to laugh Midden, a dunghill with earth F&\i\e,five Nobbut, only Weshing, washing Forrad, forward Nowther, neither Whoor, where Fowk, people Nell, Helen Winder, windoiv Freeat, fret Nivver, never Woul, wool Fause, false Neeght, night Whooap, hope Gang, to go Neea, no Weean, will not Gann, going Nooations, ideas Weean, quean, a jade Gowa, let us go Keen, nine Winder, winrow, to put Giggle, to laugh Ninnyhammer, a sim- hay or corn in rows Gowpin, two handsful pleton for carting Gawvison, a fool Oor, our Wreet, a wheelwright Garth , yard Ower, over Weame, the belly Geen, given Ows, beast Weffing, snarling Gowd, gold Pairlour, parlour Yal, whole, and ale Helm, a shed or hovel Pleeaf, a plough Yan, one Hen-Bawks, hen-roosts Preeav'd. prov'd Yatton, Ay ton Hoosivvcr and Hoom- Prood, proud Yode, an old horse sumivver, however Prethe, I pray thee Yat, hot G, Norman, Printer, Maiden Lane, Covent Garden. 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