Nathan Hogg \i^ \*P LETTERS & POEMS TU ES BRITHER JAN, IN THE DEVONSHIRE DIALECT BY NATHAN HOGG. FIRST SERIES. ED1TBD, WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BY ROBERT DYMOND, F.S.A. Seventh Edition Enlarged with a Revised Glossary. S. DRAYTON & SONS, 201, HIGH STREET, EXETER. I9O2. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. CONTENTS. LETTER FROM PRINCE LUCIEN BONAPARTE 4 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ... ... 5 INTRODUCTORY LETTER TO FIRST EDITIOM ... 6 THA HOSSMINSHiP ... 7 GOODA VRIDY THA VAIR, ETC. ... ... p THA WILE BAISTS ... II NATHAN'S LOVE LETTER ... 13 PETERS TOWER, THA RAYLRAUD, ETC. ... 5 1 BOUT THA BALUNE ... ... 1 8 BOUT THA VANCY BAL ... ... 2O ESTER VAIR ... ... ... 21 BOUT THA RIETING ... ... 23 BOUT THA BAL ... ... 25 THA GENTLEMEN ACKTERS ... ... 28 TOR ABBEY VAISTINGS ... ... 31 JAN MOODY'S LETTER PIS THA CRIMYIN WAR ... 34 THA MILSHY ... ... ... 37 THE DRAWING ROOM ... ... 4! THA KITCHIN ... ... 43 THA RIFLE CORPS ... ... 45 THA OLD HUMMAN WAY THA URD CLOKE ; UN THA EVIL EYE ... ... ... 49 THA MANADGERY AT ESTER VAIR ... 75 BRADNINCHIAN JUSTICE ... ... 76 839850 i&ogatl IBiflffnea* prince 3outs 3Lucim Bonaparte to ti} Sutfjor, MY DEAR MR. BAIRD, About your dedicating your book to me, I shall be very happy to accept it ; and as far as concerns my humble individual opinion about your ability in the Devonshire Dialect, I can only say that all the most intricate and difficult questions about the pronunciation and other grammatical proprieties of this very interesting dialect have been answered by you in such a manner as to enable me to adopt several of the modifications of the orthography, the which certainly I could never have attained except through a person thoroughly acquainted, as you, in my opinion, undoubtedly are, with the peculiarities of this curious form of the English speech. Believe me, yours very sincerely, L. L. BONAPARTE. Biographical Sfcetcfj. HENRY BAIUD, the popular writer of poems in the Devonshire Dialect under the nom de plume of " Nathan Hogg," was a native of Exeter. In person he was short and dark, with a peculiar cast in the eye, and a depressed manner. In early life he was a Clerk in the office of Mr. HUGH M. ELLACOMBE, Attorney, of Exeter (elder brother of the late Rev. H. T. ELLACOMRE, P.S.A.), and the last who held the office of Chamberlain of that City. Later on, BAIRD carried on business as a Bookseller in St. Martin's Lane, Exeter, and was also connected with the local Newspaper Press. He was a close observer of the peculiarities of the Devonshire Dialect, and published, chiefly in the Devon Weekly Times, the humorous poetical sketches, which were afterwards collected and issued in a separate volume, entitled, " Poetical Letters tu es Brither Jan, by Nathan Hogg." The genuine humour and poetical genius displayed in these letters, and their close delineation of the vulgar speech of the County, have rendered them so popular, especially with students of provincial dialect, that another Edition has been called for. That distinguished linguist, the late PRINCE LUCIEN BONAPARTE, was so struck with them that he came to Exeter, and sought a conference with the author. Hence the Second Series of "Nathan Hogg's Poems" were dedicated to the Prince. As in so many similar cases, BAIRD'S gifts did not include a talent for money-making, and he left Exeter in the hope of obtaining more profitable employment on the Metropolitan Press. He did not long survive the change, and on the 3rd of May, 1881, he died in St. Thomas' Hospital of consumption, aged about 52 years. ROBERT DYMOND, F.S.A. EXETER, March, 1888. Sntrotructorg Hetttr to tije jftrst ffitrttion. EXTER, Augist 2$th, 1847. DEER JANNY, 'Im gwain vur ta stan vaur ma betters I've agreed vur ta pirnt iv'ry wan a me letters ; I've talk'd way me Vriends vurry auff n kinsarning Tha glide thay wid du in purmoting a laming : Laurd Chistervield dude et, (yu've yerd uv es name ?) An zo did Chapone, an I'll du jist tha zame, Vur I darezay et mit (tho' uv kuse es cant tull) Larn miny pore nawnithin vellers ta spull. Eddicashin, deer Jan, is a bewtivul thing Tis better thin ort a tal ulse thee kiss bring : Wen es bothe wen ta skool stid uv playing and vighting, I always stick'd vast ta ma spulling and vrighting, Zo now I be abul ta hannel ma queel, Vur I've yerd thare's a way, if thare's uny a weel. Deer Janny, I shant vrite thur moar now at present, Bit stap way tha haup I've dude gude ta tha pheasant ; * If as how thay doant want us ta laff at thare spulling, Let min zit too an larn, vur thay may if thay'm wulling : Wen I've pirnted me bukes I shill zend wan ta Zogg, Deer brither I wish thur adu, NATHAN HOGG. * Peasant. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS TU ES BRITHER JAN. EXTER, April 12, 1846. DEER JAN, I vrites, as I agreed. Ta tell thur aul thit I've a zeed; An girtly I've a bin amused, Vur tu zich zights I bant a used. Tha tother night I went to zee Tha hossminship, lor what a spree ! I thort as how I shude a dide Way laffin, an a split ma zide. Tu chaps urn'd in za limp as ails, A turning auver taps an tails, An vallin down way zich a wack, I thornt thay muss a brauk thare back; I ax'd a chap a zitting thare How 'twas thit thay sude doo za quare, Ha zed, uv kuse, thay jum'pd about, Cuz thare back boans wos took'd out. Then thurteen hosses tratted in, And made up zich a purty zene ; NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An wan tha chaps ha gied a jump, An cleer'd aul awmin in a lump. Wull, tu a hoop thay had a tide Zome daggers round about inzide, Tha vuller jump'd, za cleer's a egg, Rite droo, an niver scratch'! es leg. Nex a man an hoss com'd in, An gallup'd aul aroun tha ring; Ha uny gied es wip a znack, Then stude up tap tha hosses back, An zim'd za aisy gwain aroun, As if ha stude pin tap tha groun ; Bim-bye, in com'd a wacking hoss, A man lied tap es back across, Ha urn'd an zniff'd, an kik'd an shied, I thort as how tha man'd a died ; I spose ha didd'n, vur in tha night, I zeed min luking up all vright. I went last Zindy zeed tha churches, An wair'd ma bess coat, hat, an burches ; I thort as how tha vokes did stare Ta zee mer drest like vur a vair. I'm sorry thit I must a dun Avaur I've told thur all tha vun. Yu zee me paper's vill r d up quite, Bit zune agane I'll try ta vrite ; I haup as how yu veeds tha dog, Yer luving brither, NATHAN HOGG. NATHAN HOGGS LETTERS. <8oolm Frtog, Jfljja Fair, &c. EXTER, 2ist April, 1846. DEER JAN, I now vrites as I zed how I weed, Ta tull thur zom moar aw tha zights I've a zeed, Vur Exter's tha place, if et bant dang ma wig, Ta zee zome rear sport ur ta carr aun a rig ; Bit tha cnaps thit be urning about all tha day,* Drest up jist like munky's agwain ta tha play Thay woant let thur stan in tha strait way yer cart, Ulse yu'm took'd vaur tha mare and a vin'd purty zmart. I wis passing wan day alonzide tha Gilhal, An yer'd min inzide kikking up uv a bral ; A big bullied veller had a got holt (ess vath !) A boocher vur karrin es pig in tha path. Now tha genelvoks yer may du jist as thay plaize, An stan bout tha shops an tha straits at thare aize Tu a vuller drest wul thay niver zes nort, An that are's tha rais'n a new coat I've bort. Now wen Tm zot quiet I thinks ta mersul, As how I should du vur a mare vury wul, An I'll tull thur tha vust thing I'd du ta be zhore, Pitch et in tap tha urch za wul as tha pore ; I wis axed out lass Vridayf ta brekses at aight, Niver avaur did I zee zich a gorjus zight * Policeman. f Good Friday. 10 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Es ad nort ulse bit keaks way crasses pin tap, Zes I vur them are I'm a cabical chap ; They handid min roun ta tha vokes thit wur there Thay wis vury zmal aiters and did'n min stare, Vur noan awmin took'd out abuv wan ur tu, Bit I took'd tha platter wayout more adu. Vur dinner, deer Jan, us'd a got a rare dish, Uv butter an eggs way pasnips an vish. A Mundy es went down an zeed tha girt vair, Ta be zure twas anuff ta mak iny wan stare Wa tha zwingers, an shaws, an tha pickters, an ban, I cud'n a zim'd thare wis ort haf za gran ; Thare wis wan purty gal, bit a chaiting yung thing, Who ax'd mer ta gie hur a bit uv a zwing, I got in azide aw hur, bit wen es cum'd out, Iv'ry wan a me pokkits wis turn'd inzide out ; Her urn'd ta tha vokes an a got in atween Put her thum tap her nauze, an cal'd out yu be green ! Then stright I urn'd horn, the mis think vury quare, An ad nort moar ta du way girt Exter vair. If I beant horn in a week, or zay rather better, I'll write thur, deer Jan, a banging girt letter Thay wants mer ta stap, I doant think as I shal, Vur I've got a girt hinklin ta ze ma ole gal ; Zo gie ma kend luv ta Bets, Nanee, an Zogg, Vrim yer vechshinit brither, NATHAN HOGG. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 3Eiie JUaists. EXTER, May iSth, 1846. DEER JANNY, I vrites as I zed how I weed, An be now gwain ta tull thur zom moar I've a zeed. A short time ago I wis down in tha town, An zeed zich a wackin girt thing komin down, Way a nauze in es veace thit tha voks kal'd a znout, Aw 'twis musin ta zee min a twirdlen about ; An I think wayout tulling a wurd uv a lie, Thit ha stude vule veefteen ur zixteen veet hie : Zom zed 'twis a hullifint, but a chap urning pass, Wen I ax'd en wat 'twas, zed a rinasseras ; Howiver, deer Jan, let min be wat ha weed, I niver avaur zich a wacker hav zeed ; A vine looking humman zot up tap es back, Aw lor, if hur'd val'd hur muss had a wack ? If they shaw'd zich a windervul zight aul vur nort, Mist be zix times za wull vur a zixpince I thort ; Zo zune arter I went down an zeed aul tha baist, An gied drippence moar vur ta zee min all vaist. Wen vust I kum'd down a yung humman got in, Who tha kal'd a quare name, tha girt lian Quene ; Hur pokid tha lian, an nack'd min, deer Jan, Jist like I'd be banging our little dog Van ; Put her haid in es mouth, ha begun'd vur ta kauff, Lor a marcy, zais I, ha'll znip en irt auff ! An I darezay, deer Jan, thit it wud ha been dude, If hur'd got ort a tal in her haid thit wis gude. 12 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Tha thing thit I zeed in tha day dude a trick Put es nauze in ma pokkit an took'd a girt brick,* Ha tucked en up under es znout ta make zhore, An put en out roun as if axing vur moar ; Zais I, " chaw a hapmy," bit cute as a vox, Ha put up es nauze and drappen intu a box. Wull then es went roun ware tha munky's wis keep'd An wan awmin zim'd like as if ha wis zleep'd, Zo I .put in me han jist ta much down es tail, When ha kort holt my thum, an moast brauk auf tha nail, Zo I moov'd auff vrim thare, za vast as I kude, Vur ha tride ta kum out, wich I thort ha'd a dude. A bird ad a vish thare za big as a hake, He haupen'd es mouthe, an jist geed min a shake, Then gobbled min down vrim tha tap ta tha tail, An made no moar awmin nor if 'twis a ail, An tha man zed as how thit auff' n thay kan Wen they veels vury hungary, zwaller a man ; The vokes all did laff, but I dude nort bit stare, Zo they kal'd out old kodger, yude better take kare ; Wat thay mains be old kodger I can't tull a tal, But I zim'd thit as how thay wur up vur a bral, Zo I thort tha bess thing was ta cut purty quick, Vur vear that pin tap mer thay'd play iny trick. I shill luke out an try to git zummat ta du, Vur I hunderstans geard'nin an other things tu. Ma paper's vill'd up, so in kuse I mist stap, But I'll soon write thur moar about Exter, ole chap. Tha next time I vrites et wull be ta deer Zogg, Vrim yer veckshinit brother, NATHAN HOGG. * Penny loaf. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 13 Natfjan's ILofoe letter. EXTER, May 2$th, 1846. DEER ZOGGY, I've uny jist got yer letter, An girtly be plaized vur ta yer thit yu'm better ; Yu zes yu daunt spoas as how thit I luv thur, An way living in Exter be got above thur, But dang ma ole buttons, tant true, vur I nivir Hav zeed a maid yer haf za purty an clivir, Zo I'll nivir vursake thur za long as me lyve, An wen es cums horn I'll make thur me wive ; Aw lor, when I thinks aw't me hart knacks about, Jist as if ha wur reddy vur jumping irt out, Exter maidens luke wull anuff when thay be dress'd, Way thare vine vantysheeny goold things in thare brest, But if yu cude uny jist zee mirr be day, Thay be lookin za yeller as old dyver'd hay I thinks that most aul awmin wants mer ta spaik, But na, deeress Zoggy, me haid bant za waik, Thay lukes in me veace, how they laffs to be zure, Like as if I wid spaik thay wid zay zummat moar. I cude git a dressmaker* weniver I likes, Uny hold up me vinger, ta walking thay hikes, I zees turneys clarks, an shop vuller zwulls, Aul awmin doo's et wen passin tha gals ; But yu need'n be veer'd thit I be tha zame, I shude haup thit yu naws mur tu wull vur that game ; * This only alludes to a peculiar class pursuing that avocation, BO that no respectable young lady can take offence at Nathan, by thinking herself included. 14 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An I'll tell thur agane, as avaur I've a zaid, Thit I niver wia marry a dressmakin maid, A squatting about in tha houze all tha day, An a girt dail too vine vur ta clain en away. I thinks vury auffn wen us got zom vine weather, How auffn us uzed ta go walkin tagether, An bout tha girt tree in tha vour aker meade, Ware hours es have zot vur ta bide in tha sheade ; An then I thinks auver tha zmacks I've a gied thur, An thort aut za long till I zim'd thit I zeed thur; I dreem'd tother night thit I gied thur a zmacker, Wen in com'd yer vather and vetch'd mer a wacker, An et vrighten'd mer zo thit I val'd out a baid, An agin the girt paust thare I hat me pore haid. I zend thur, deer Zogg, a vew laces vur stays, Bit I haup yu woant val in tha Exter maids ways, Vur thay hal up thare wastis za toight and za zmal, Thit I'm zartin tha mait niver gose down a tal, An a cliver man tole mer hu vurily thort Thay sqweez'd up tha hawls uv thare stummiks to nort. I haup this'll zit thur parfickly aizy, But I naw vury wul wat better wid plais'ee Yude reather I'd gie thur a kiss thin a letter, Bit keep up yer spurrits, tis aul vur tha better Zo now I mist wish thur gude by, me deer Zogg, Vrim yer veckshinit luver, NATHAN HOGG. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 15 Jeter's Eotoer, tfja i&aslraufc, &c. EXTER, June Sth, 1846. DEER JAN, If in kase thit yu cude bit cum in Vur ta zee half tha zights thit be yer ta be zin, Yude niver vurgit min, but winder and stare Vur tha rest uv yer live, thay aul be za quare. I wis up tap a Peter's girt tow'r tother day. An thort thit I never shude vound out tha way, Twis za dark, and za hie, thit I thort ivry stap Zim'd varder and varder vrim gwain up a tap; Ta last es got up ware thay keeps tha girt bul, How vrighten'd I was I bant able to tul, Zich a wackin girt thing most za big's our church ! Vur ta zee min, I'm zure yu wide like vury murch ; An tha man thit wis keepin tha kay uv tha tower, Zais he, " wen ha rings, Exter beer aul turns zower ; "* Now, I cant tull thur Jan, if be tru ur et baint, Zo uv kuse tidd'n vright vur tu zay thit et baint, Arter this, es cum'd up, an es look'd out aroun; An cude zee ivry pairt uv girt Exter town; Tha zmoak an tha watter, tha zin and tha noyse Zich things me deer Janny, I always hinjoys ; An tha chaps thit wis walkin aun down in tha raud, Look'd like littel voks that I've raid aw abraud. I tuke auff me hat jist ta holler wurraw ! Wen ha zlip'd out me han, an ha val'd down belaw : I shude ha } zeed moar, if et wadden vur that, Bit of kuse 'twidd'n du vur ta loss a new hat; * An old saying. The bell is 12,500 Ibs. weight, and cannot be rung. 1 6 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Arter vallin and scrallin zu vast as I cude, I got en, bit didd'n wance think thit I shude. A Tuesedy* es went down ta Tingmith be steem, Aw ! niver uv ridin za vast did I dreem ; Twis jist agaun twulve wen es cum'd out ta stashin, A urning an zwettin like ole botherashin ; I thort zo, thinks I, I'm in vury gude time, Zo I was vur to zee min go down droo tha line, A puffin an blawin, an like a yung cheel, A screechin an hollin, as if ha cude veel ; I ax'd wan tha chaps vur ta urn down an stap'n, But ha lafF d at me zo, I shude like tu ha' wap'n. Wull es waited out thare, till up tu ur haf arter, A walkin an talkin way Will an es darter; Wen thay aupen'd tha door, us wis aul aw's pairted, Vur I tummil'd in vust, vur veer ha'd ha' started ; Bim bye, auff es goes, et a winderful speed ! An zich a vine zight auver Exter es zeed, Tha houzes and tow'rs, an aul awt bezide, An eet, arter aul, lor, how vast es did ride! Es cum'd down ta Dalish, aw didd'n I stare ! Vur ta zee tha girt ships, and tha zay all za quare ; An tha tides wis a rollin, za blue and za white, Deer Jan, arter aul, twis a butivul zight; Aul ta wance es urn'd in tu a wackin girt haul,f Za dark thit yu cuden zee nothin a taul : An then es com'd out in tha hair an tha zin, An vaster an vaster, ta Tingmith did rin. Deer Jan, I daunt think thare wis ort a tal, skace Weth talkin about, iny pairt uv tha plaice ; I stap'd thare til haf arter zix I shude spose, * The South Devon Railway to Teignmouth was opened the previous day. f Tunnel. NATHAN HOGGS LETTERS. 1 7 Wen ta com horn agane, ta tha stashin es gose ; Thare wis lots leff behind em, tha night avore that, Zo es went up thare airly, thinks I, I bant vlat ! Zes tha chap, " Zir, yer tikket " zes I , " wat'ee zay ? " Way I draw'd en down tap uv tha table ta day." Zes he, " Me deer zur, I daunt naw nort about et, Bit yu cant go vur zartin, ta Exter way out et : " Arter ballin an nackin a girt dail a bother, I was blaijed vur ta pay en, to gie mer another. Wull then in es gose, bit moast daid way that hot, An zot aul aroun mer, there was zich a lot ; An a hulkin girt chap, who es ax'd to zit down, Ha stap'd up tha winder moast aul up ta town. Bit es got horn quite saff, zo thar idd'n nort moar, About tha rail raud, a weth tullin I'm zhore. I wish yu cude uny com in a vew days, An zee bit a vew uv tha Exter vokes ways : An I warn'ee za zune, as yu com in, yu shal Pick up in a minit a vury nice gal ; Wen tha chaps veels inclined vur ta git a hung humman, If shude be pin a Zindy, ta Vaur-strait they go min ; An urns up'ndown till they zees wan thay likes, Then out vur a walkin tagether thay hikes. Thare be thowsins a maid'ns, and thowsins a men, A pakin droo Vaur-strait, vrim hight up ta ten; A maid nur a man, nver walks abuv wance Droo tha strait, wayout tis vur ta luke vur a chance. I've a took'd up ta zmoak, vur I've found out a houze Tho ('bout et I keeps murzel quiets a mouze !) Ware thay zills thare cigars haf a diz'n vur drippence, Ur if yu takes twulve, you can git min vur vippence ; An tha man zez tis turney's clarks moastly thit by's em. An shopmen, an zometime thit gennelmen trys em. 1 8 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. I've a vill'd up me paper, I think, vury tidy, Bit I'll tull thur lots moar if I cums horn a Vridy. Zo now I'll shet up gie ma kind luv ta Zogg, Vrim yer veckshinit blither, NATHAN HOGG. 'Bout tfja Balune. EXTER, Augt4st nth, 1846. DEER JAN, I daunt think I shude vrite haf za zune, If et wadd'n ta tull thur about tha balune ; Arter zich a vine zight thinks I ta be zhore I'll vrite, if et idd'n ta tull thur nort moar. About haf arter zix es went up droo tha town, And hundreds a vokes wis a gwain up'ndown; And dang et, deer Janny, how much thee wiss stare, Ta zee min dress'd viner than vur iny vair. Well, zune es oes up ta tha tap uv tha strait, As I thort et mist be a gude place vur ta wait ; Zo es stiks merzul up ta tha zide uv a houze, An waited ta zee min, za quiet's a mouze, Aul ta wance es wis kaining up auver tha ski, And zeed a quare thing gwain up windervul hi; Zes I tu a chap, " What dee cal thic a-head ?" Zes he, " Aw that are's tha balune's little maid ; "* * The small pilot balloon sent up a-few minutes before the large one. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 19 I wis mused vur ta yer min za cliver ta talk, And ha drade a balune gin tha wal way zom chalk : Zune arter, tha chaps gied a tarrabul bal, An tha hummen and childern begin'd vur ta squal : As ha cum'd out like winky out auver tha pleace, I cude zee en za plain as tha nauze in yer veace ; I vollerd en up alongzide uv zome moar, Till ha got up vule tu ur dree miles, I am zshore ; An zom uv tha vokes thare, thay holler'd out loud, " My ivers, ha's gone in a wacking girt cloud ! " Ha cum'd out agane, bit zune went out a zight, An didd'n com horn till up ten tha zame night. I thort to merzul, how windervul quare, Et was vur ta zee a man ride droo tha hare, Wayout ort in tha wordel thit iny aw's zeed, Vur ta hold'n ur push'n zich windervul speed : I didd'n zee nort bit a wackin girt bal, And I'm zure thicky thing cud'n pull min a tal : If Vather and ole Hunkel Will cude bit zee Tha things thit be dooing, how vrightene'd thay'd be ! Poor vellers ! thay always wis vond uv ort vresh, Wen thay liv'd tap tha aith, an like us wis vlesh; Bit 'tis ta be haup'd thay now zees quarer things, An vlys likes balunes droo tha hare wayout wings. In looking up to min I stap'd in a bogg, Vrim yer veckshinit brither, NATHAN HOGG. 20 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 'Bout tfja Fancg Bal. EXTER, January i8th, 1847. DEER JANNY, I vrites, an in haups vur ta vind That yu bares et up wull bothe in body an mind, Tis a long time ago thit I vraut ort a tal, Bit I thort I must tull thur about tha vine bal ; Thare wis dresses all vorrin, an hair powder'd white, I be dang'd if et wadd'n a most komikil zight, An as up ta tha doorway tha cars wis a draw'd Lor a macy ! I zim'd I was auver abraud ! Tho' tha bal didd'n aup'n till gittin most leb'n, I made vur tha geat about haf arter zeb'n ; Vur I thort thit tha vokes wid a chuck'd up tha strait, An I hadd'n no mind vur ta loss zich a trait. Wull up corn's a car, an then out jumps a veller, Way coat made a spang'ls, an edgid way yeller, An es urch looking burches a skollop'd aul roun, I'm zshore mist a caust en up vule veefty poun. Then up ta tha doorway another wis drade, Dress'd up like tha chaps ware tha tay is a made* YuVe auffn a zee'd min ta ole Mother Banisturs, Cuz hur've got em a painted pin tap uv hur kannisturs. A covey went in thit I thort wis a Turk, Bit vrightvul anuff ta make iny dog burk ; Zom cal'd en a Pasher vrim Haygipt bit Laur ! I niver zeed iny dress'd quarer avaur. * China. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 21 Thay begin'd vur ta drap in za thik an za vast, Thit I thort I shude niver a zeed out tha last ; Thare wis sailers an saujers, way silver an leace An ladees way viewers stik'd all roun thare veace; Thare wis 'Murrikins, Turks, an pass'ns and squires, An huntsmen and pheasants, ('tis thaize I hadmires.) Deer Jan how more nauble twid be ta be zshore, If they'd gie haf tha munny thay waste ta tha pore, Vur droo Exter Market thare bant to be voun, No vlesh whatsimiver, under zix pince a poun; Poor crayturs may starve, but thay daunt care a kuss, An zooner would zee it thin aup'n thare puss ; An tha tettys be higher than iver avaur, Thay bant auver gude vur wan an hightpince a skaur, An thay daunt zim as if they wis likely ta drap, But I haup thee'st a dig'd up a purty gude crap. Me leg is za bad thit I hops like a vrogg, Vrim yer veckshinit bother, NATHAN HOGG. Ester Fair. EXTER, April gth, 1847. DEER JAN, As I zed wen es pairted a Vridy, I writes vur ta zay if tha vair wis ort tidy : At tha pikturs an vokes, an tha musik an shaws, Deer brither I'm zshore thee'st a cock'd up thee nauze. Wen vust es kom'd down a young humman hur jits Me ulbaw, an ax'd vur dree happerd a nits, 22 NATHAN HOGG S LETTERS. Zais I, " wull me deer I be up vur zum fun," Zo auver I gose an I takes up tha gun, Bit I voun ha wis turrabul hard vur ta hannel, An instid uv tha thurty I shet at tha kannel ; How hur znigger'd an laff'd I didd'n like vury wul, Zo I gied her tha munny ta shet vur hurzul; Thinks I arter this, I daunt think thares a thing I shude like haf za well as to ride in a zwing, Zo es zits murzul in, an ha gose up like winky, Bit in tu er dree minnits I begun'd vur ta blinky; I was zick an za bad an tha vellers keep'd ballin, " Deer yer how ha's crackin ? My ivers ha's vallin \" An wen es kom'd out vur ta stan pin tha groun, Tha pikturs an aul awt zim'd twirdlin aroun ; An et made mer za bad vur tha rest uv tha night, Thit I cuden way spurit injoy iny zight. As a bit uv a channge es gits intu a pleace Ware a vuller'd a painted aul auver es veace, Ha was dress'd up za vunny an talkid za kute, An hop'd auver es leg wile ha holdid es vute, An wan litt'l vuller thay lide en down vlat, An tide up es body complait in a nat; Ha wis dude up za wul, if ha wadd'n I'm blistered ! Deer Jan as thee'st tie up a girt skain a wisterd ; An wen thay'd a twisted tha chap up za smal, Thay truckl'd en roun like a big caddy bal. Wull then es gits roun ware tha hummen wis dancin, An tha drums wis a bating an murrymins prancin, An wan a tha maids gied her nauze a gude wipe Way her hand, an kom'd vorrid an danc'd a hornpipe ; Her dude et za vitty, an light as a veather, And then vive ur zix awmin aul danc'd tagether. Bit laur ! if I stap vur ta tull aul tha vun, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 23 I shil vrite vur a vortnit an then shant ha dun; Bezide, me deer Jan, I'm a blaijed vur ta stap, As I've vill'd up me paper vrim bottim ta tap, I haup thit as how thee wis zend in tha dogg : Vrim yer veckshinit brither, NATHAN HOGG. 'Bout tfja dieting. EXTER, May \2th, 1847. DEER JANNY, As tettys an caurn be sa skace, I daunt think a vew wurds wid be murch out a place ; An as I'm azot be merzul all za quiet, I mains vur ta tull thur about Exter riet. Las' Vriday wis week as I pakid down droo Exter straits, I wis tole thit a mortal baloo Wis aun, an thit hummen an chfldern be zwarms, Wis braiking tha winders, an aul up'n harms; Thinks I, wull I'm blister'd if this bant a job, An then laur a macy ! I spied out tha mob : Deer Jan, I wis stin'd arter walking irt down. Vur I vancied twis aul uv the hummen in town; Thay wis dring'd up an ballin, an zwearin, an hootin, An pushid za hard thit I lost holt me vooting, An val'd taps an tarvey rite down pin tha stones Twis a macy I did'n crack aul aw ma bones ; Wull, es voller'd em up vur a hower or too, A ballin an kikkin up zich a ta doo, 24 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An wile es wis talkin 'bout wat made em rauze, A wackin girt stone com'd up bang gin ma nauze ; An IVe winder'd an winder 'd as how thicky stoan, (Zick a wacker as twas) didd'n braik in tha boan ; Thinks I thare be dahnger, an thort to merzul, If es keep'd varder back es cude zee jist za wul. Wul vorrid thay went, an I vurrily thort They'd a zmash'd aul tha winders thay toss'd at, ta nort, An as zom uv tha howzes, thay dringid a pass, My ivers thay pipper'd girt stones ta tha glass Deer Janny, daunt niver zay hummen be quiet, Twis thay thit made up iv'ry bit uv tha riet, An wan a tha wist awmin holler'd an zed, . " Tan't wisser ta die thin ta live wayout bred." I thort avaur that thay cude du nort bit grin, But I vound all ta wance I wis dewcid took'd in. I voller'd an voller'd, an zeed as they zed, Thay wis aul detarmin'd ta git holt zom bred, An jigger me, Janny, thay aul uv a hop, Stude outside uv Kenhoods, wat keeps a bred shop ; Ha haupen'd tha doorway, an draw'd out zom rolls, Thit hat em moast dreadful pin tap uv thare polls, An made tha poor crayturs ta rub em an schatch em, Bit et wadd'n no joke, tho' I liked vur ta watch em, Thay sar'd all tha bakers up droo jist the zame, An zom awmin thort twis a cabical game, An I'm zartin, deer brither, as miny ulse thort, Thit haf awmin dude et wat didd'n want nort. I vurgot vur ta tull thur as how I've a been Zwared in as a kunstabil sarvin tha Queen, An I made a mistake, vur ma staff was za zlipper, Thit I hit wan uv ourzide a dewce uv a clipper, Bit I told en I didd'n wance main vur ta doo et, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 25 Vur ha hold up es awn an wis gwain to goo too et ; Bit I'm like haf tha tothers thit got in tha lot, If tha vellers wis vighting, ta cut like a zshot. The saujers wis all awmin cal'd up be night, Way thare bagganit guns, vur ta zee aul wis rite ; Bit thay vound thit tha mob didd'n like vury wul Ta git a gude wacking, no moar thin merzul. But now I mis stap, vur I've burn'd out tha light, Zo I wish thur, deer brither, a vury gude night ; I shill cut off ta baid, vur tis dark as a bogg ; Vrim yer veckshinit brither, SPESHIL KUNSTABIL HOGG. 'Bout STtja Bal. EXTER, 2^tH December, 1847. DEER JAN, Tis za lang zince I vraut ta thur last, Thit I vinds I bant ekal ta writing za vast; Vur laming like iv'ry thing ulse, me deer Jan, If you doant voller't up, ull git out a yer han; Tha biggest vule apin aith wid be abul ta vrite, If ha'd zeed bit a haf wat I zeed Mundy night, Bit I vlatters merzul as I've got better sense, Thin ta keep thur, deer Jan, iny longer in 'spense ; Cant'ee guess wat et is (no I spose nat a tal), Laur a macy, deer Jan, I've a been tu a ball! (I mains I've a zeed wan) way Will an es Zister, 26 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Vur es gied highteenpense, ta git in tha Horkister ; Wull es gits in thick place and tho' haf arter wan, Es had vule highteenpennard a vun me deer Jan, Vur ta zee aul tha shopmen, an tailors, an clarks, Wizzing about thare yung hummen and havin' zich larks ; If yu'd zeed tha maids dresses (Laur a macy ta vew min !) I ad nort ulse ta du bit ta watch and luke tu min ; Thare wis zom aul in blu, an zom dress'd up in black, Zom look'd like kammils way girt humps pin thare back, An I'm darn'd if I'm inything like a gude jidge, Pin tap aw'm cude ride vrim tha rume ta Exe bridge ; Tis all nonsinse begads (thay may cal mer a prater) Let min war no moar bussel thin's gied em be natur, Tho' I think arter aul, thay'm convaynyent an warm, Vur a chap wen ha's tired, vur ta lain down es arm, An I don't zee as how, be tha luke uv tha gown, Thit a thing like that are wid be likes ta zlip down. Wull thay hug'd up wan tother in za luving a way, (How thit us dith et horn mis be murch out tha way.) An thay wadn'n pirtikler, (I thort et za strahnge) Stid uv stikking tagether, iv'ry dance thay wid chahnge; If I had a maid thit a chap hal'd about, I shude up way han an a vetch'd en a clout, Vur darn'ee deer Jan (niver mind how thay laffs) I bant thicky wan thit wid like ta go haf's. Wull tha mewsic plaid up, auff thay walsid za quick, Tu er dree urn'd away, an I think thay was zick ; Way if I wiz ta hannil a maid in our pleace As thay did in the walse hur'd be skattin me veace; Wen I zees thit yung girls likes zich hallin about, I reckons tis time thit thare mothers look'd out; An yu naws brither Jan, thit 'tis true wat I zay, Tho' I likes a gude danse wen tant nort out the way. NATHAN HOGGS LETTERS. 27 Bit tha maid'ns look'd wull arter makin a cheese,* Then aul up an auff, like tha zwarmin a bees, Iv'ry wan in tha rume look'd bewtivul vath, (Bit mis zee in tha day vur ta tall a gude clath.) In tha kuse uv tha night thay wis playing a rail, Ur a Pokha (I didd'n yer haid nur no tail) When a chap aul ta wance, as a tride ta urn zlack, Ha cock'd up es pumps an went irt pin es back, I spose arter that thit ha zim'd ha wer'nt right, Vur I nivir cort zight awn no moar vur tha night. I've thort pin et auffn an auff'n deer Jan, Wy zich vine looking maids cud'n pik up a man Wayout gwain ta zich places, a hopping and prancin Bit I spose them air chaps chuses wives vur thare dancin. Bit I'd rather have wan (bevaur aul av thare stock) That wid work bout the house, an cude clain out a crock. Tho' I daunt main to zay zome aw'n thare cud'n du et, Bit I zim'd be thare lukes thit they wadd'n used tu et. I be quite out a vriting which I haup thee'st exkewze, In vack I mis stap cuz I've told aul tha newze. I bant nort like tha man I was vaur I laust Zogg, Nor I shant be no moar vrim yer brother, N. HOGG. * Having once been asked to define the term, " making a cheese" a country friend present favoured the company with the following explanation. " Way, yu mist turn round tu ur dree times, and go quat." This must be synonymous with " ruckee down ; " and to those who are not honoured by a personal acquaintance with Nathan, and may probably think the character overdrawn, it should be remarked that the above was given by the son of a respectable farmer residing not five miles from the old city. If this is from the master, what may be expected from the man, especially at a greater distance from the "cultivated." 28 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Stfja (gentlemen EXTER, 29/7? Feb., 1848. DEER BRITHER, I zed if I went ta tha play That I'd vrite thur about et tha vury nex day Zo I thort tha bess way vur ta make et aul vrite, Wis ta zit down and du et tha vury zame night. Arter waiting and scrallin, an shuvin abit, Es got in a place thit thay zed wis tha Pit, An a vury gude name vur tha place wis za smal, Thit I didd'n stay zwetting aul night, nat a tal. Wul ez zits merzul in thare, za quiets a mouze, And zeed aul tha vokes, iv'ry pairt uv tha houze, An es vew'd all aroun, an es luk'd iv'ry zide, Laur Janny ! yer mouthe wid a haupen'd za wide, Vur ta zee aul tha Ladies vine dresses and haids Dud up vur ta make em aul luke purty maids ; Bit wan thing I almost vurgot tu a named Thare necks an thare buzzims most made mer a shamed ; Way if I wis thare vathers, et es no use ta tul, Bevaur I wid zee et, I'd drash em aul wul ; Way our modest maids wid a blishid an shakid, Vur ta zee yu or me way our buzzims aul nakid ; Deer Jan I likes modisty deer ta me hart, I doant think thay got murch, ur thay'm windervul zart ; If ta git min a chap es tha rais'n thay doo et, I shude zim thit a man uv no veelin wid vew et ; Now wid yu my deer Jan? if tha truth I mis tul, I shude like thaize here things zeed be noan bit merzul ; NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 29 If a poorer man's darter shude dress jist the zame, Vrim tha vury zame wans, hur wid ha' a bad name, Bit be wat I can zim, twid be mortally quare, If tha poor hadd'n got nat more sense thin that are. Bit tha dresses ta night wis most aul new ta me, An thingamys quarer I'm zshure cud'n be, Yu may think, me cleer Jan, that I'm zilling a packits Wen I zes thit tha ladees thare (zom awm) ware jackits; Bit wat I now tul thur es true pin me wurd, Thare was zom had min on, way tha tails egid urd ; Deer Jan doant vurgit thaize be ladees uv urches, I spose tha nex thing thay'll be putting aun burches. Wull tha kurtin drade up, and a chap ha com'd in, Lookng veard, an moas reddy ta jump vrim es skin, Thay call'd en Dan Josey, (tha last name wis gude,) Vur ha zim'd jist like wan uv our Josey's a stewd,* Bit ha zune got es pluck up, and talk'd ta zom moar Thit com'd in vur ta shaw thar zuls tap uv the vloor. An a chap thit thay zed wiz " wan saize her Bizzan,"f Ha got in moast turribul hobbils deer Jan, Bit za miny wis thare thit it idd'n no gude Vur ta tull wan haf uv tha things thit was dude ; Dree pairts uv et thare I cud'n understand, I spose cus I haint a bin auff'n deer Jan, Tha zecond kinsarn wis moast cabical vun, An I understood iv'ry wan thing thit wis dun; Aw ! if yude a zeed thicky Jurry tha Vidler, I think twis es name, (et was Vidler ur Didler) An a vury gude name, vur deer Jan, twis za vunny, Ta zee how a diddled a chap uv es munny, An ha acted za wull, thit thay aut tu a paid min, * Stew'd Owl. f Don Caesar de Bazan. 30 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Way yu may naw tha chap, they call'd en yung Laidman. Bit tha chap I liked moast, wis a chap thay cal'd Zam, He wis like yu ur me, a vine spuce country man, An wen ha vust spoak, tho' ha said ha wis York, Ha mit jist as wul zed, thit a knive wis a vork Ha wis wan uv tha hoffisers, Janny, an rayly, Ha didd'n ack bad, I think ha's cal'd' Bayly. Thare wis lots moar besides, thit had cort me attenshin, Bit paper be scace, zo thare names I cant menshin ; Iv'ry body zed thare, tho I dunnaw mezul, Thit thay plaid auf thare acting moast cabical wul I darezay thay all awmin (dang their girt haids !) Wis vond uv tha spree vur ta kiss up tha maids, An zom awmin zmackid an zmackid (Aw laur!) As if thit thay niver had a zmacker avaur ; Bit Jurry tha Vidler (tis true pin ma saul !) Kiss'd za hard, thit I thort ha'd a kiss'd out a haul. Wul I cant say murch moar, but tis quare now ta me, How za miny ull vlock ta zich places, ta zee Thaize nawnothin chaps, stid a gwain tu an sarving Tha chaps thit got jainis an praps be haf starving ; Bit I spose that aich gose vur ta shaw auff thare darter, (Iv'ry wan vur es zul an let jainis com arter). I cant tul thur more, aiv'n if I wis able, If I du I shill vrite irt out auver tha table. An tha clock's striking wan, if a han't I be vlogg, Zo I'll stap, vrim yer veckshinit brither, N. HOGG. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 3 1 STor atibeg Fatstmgs. TORKAY, June $oth, 1849. DEER JAN, Es ad aulmost begun'd tu a thort Thit me eddificashin ad val'd auf ta nort, Bit I vinds pin tha titch (tho I zes et merzul) Es wis nivir more ekal to vrighting za wul, Vur wen laming ith wance a got in ta yer pole Tis a diffikilt thing vur ta loosen ets hole ; An zince, thank tha Laurd ! es be still in thic way, Es ull tull thur tha things thit be dude in Torkay ; Last Thesdy wis week as yu naws brither Jan, Tha yung Squire ta Tor Abby becom'd twenty wan, Zo ha ax'd aul es vokes, wat belong'd tu es state, Ta du jistice long way en ta nive, vork an plate ; Bit as that bant tha stuff thit a vuller kin ait, Thee mis geess es wis sar'd out za wul way zom mait. Zoon arter cockleert, pin tha vury zame day, Aul tha guns wis a shetting an viring away, Bit es thort et no use vur ta go thare, nat yet, Vur no wan cud'n tul ware tha bals mit be shet. About haf arter wan (es doant like ta be late Ta zich duings as this, as tis vrite vur ta state) Es drade vore ta tha green, in tha fimt uv tha houze, Bit tha vokes wadd'n com, zo 'twis quiet's a mouze, Till tha Trumpits an Horns gin ta strick up a toon, An twis zed they'd a play'd thare aul droo tha vournoon, Zo thay blaw'd an thay blaw'd till I thort thit thay must (I'm zartin I shude) a bin reddy ta bust; 32 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An' thay'd .skacely got time vur ta vetch up thare win, Wen thay play'd auf in firnt uv ta beef thit com'd in. 'Twis a wackin girt jint an a stick'd up'n en, An carr'd pin tha sholders uv vower girt men, Zo zes I ta merzul " es be abul ta ait, Bit tul make a smal haul in thic girt piece a mait." Wile es kainid an starid an gapsnested roun, A girt cart load a pudd'ns com'd in tap tha groun, Way tettees an things bit et bant mer intenshin, (Aiv'n if thit I cude) zich a lot vur ta menshin, Vur thic minnit es zeed thay wis aul zitting down, Zo es thort twis no time ta stan gapping aroun ; Wul es zot down an tuck'd in tha pays an tha pork, Wich es ait (Lor how gran !) way a vine zilver vork, Belikes es didd'n use'n vitty, be that as it wul, Ha widd'n urn inta tha mait vury wul. Wul dinner wis din, and tha genelvoks stood, An drink'd lots a helths, wich es aul av es dood, When a chap shet a blunderbuss irt droo tha cover, An auf went twenty cannins, wan arter tha tother ; Deer Jan vur tha minnit es wish'd merzul horn, Vur es thort, pin ma life, thit tha Vrench wis a kom ; Arter wich aul tha genelvoks spaichined thare, Till tha squire thort et time ta git out uv es chare, Zo es aul aw's voller'd es Honor ta wance, Vur ha zed thay wis gwain to clain out vur a dance ; Bit es vound es wis aul aw's kindiddled away Thit tha hummen an thay mit be sar'd way zom tay An twis gude vur ta zee iv'ry wan who'd a wish Sar'd out way a girt piece a cake an a dish. In tha kuse uv tha aiv'ning tha genelvokes al, Com'd down way tha vokes, and join'd in tha bal, An me vace got za urd, an es veelid za gran, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 33 Wen tha yung Squires zister hur shuv'd out hur ban, Zo es cort en holt lite (nat ta squeeze in tha boan) An jist turn'd hur round wance an then let en aloan. Wul es stay'd till es veel'd rayther quare in tha haid, Zo es thort et wis time vur ta cut horn to baid, Wares es raimid an tossid, an kick'd up'ndown, Till es dreem'd thit tha Vrench was a com'd in tha town, An wis jist then ingaged in a turribul squabble Wen es waked up an voun merzul out uv tha hobble. Deer Jan up es vustled nex day arternoon, An voun thit es wadd'n com'd auver ta zune, Vur tha vust thing es zeed hoppin vorrid an back Wis a vuller tide up tu es neck in a zack, An wan ur tu moar wis a sar'd jist tha zame, Altagether et vorm'd a moast cabical game. Arter that thare wis munny drap'd intu a tub Vul'd chuck vull a wotter (a hard zort a nib) Wich tha chaps wis ta vung be thare gieing a dips, And bring up tha munny between a thare lips, An wan gaukim thare way a turribul slotter, Tuck'd up es two legs an val'd strat in tha wotter Ha didd'n stap long vur ha com'd out moast chucking, Nat a tal moar improoved be tha mains uv es ducking; Ha zim'd steev'd way tha cold an tha daps me deer Jan, Uv a thing es uv raid aw thay kals a say-man; Et be dahngerus vath ! bit twid be es aun vaut If tha munny'd a truckel'd irt down in es draut. Bit tha best uv tha vun wis a pig thay relaised, An zot min a urning, tha tail awmin graised, An lots urning arter'n ta hole vast es tail, Laur ! pore litt'l zooker how loud ha did squail ; An a cathandid chap thort ha'd got en ta last Bit ha hadden ! vur auff ha urn'd double za vast, 34 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An a kik'd up tha pilamy an made zich a stewer, Ware tha grass wadd'n graud, how es laff 'd to be zshore ! An ha crinted an zlip'd droo thare hans like ta nort, Till about haf a nour, an then ha wis cort. Thare was climmin vur mutton, an giein a buns, An drinkin a cider an beer be tha tuns, Thare wis shettin vur nits, thare was dancin za wull In zshore me deer Jan thare wis tu murch ta tul. Ees thares more thit tha Squire ith a dude ta be zshore Ha'th a vill'd up tha stummiks uv lots a tha pore, Et es zed tis vur this thit tha urch be a zent, If et be ur et bant ha'ull nivir repaint. Bit tis draeing aun time vir ta moove vrim me zait, Zo I wish thur gude craps bothe a tetteys an wait. I be wangery now an beginning ta jogg An veels wapper-hyd. Vrim yer brither, N. HOGG. 3an jaootig^ letter pin tfja CrtmBtn JlEar. EXTER, Hoctobur Sth, 1856. DEER JANNY, In raidin tha Exter Gizeet I com'd pin a letter tis right thee shet zeet, Vur yer naws Jan Moody, as I do mezul, (I've auff'ntimes gied'n zom lessins ta spul,) NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 35 An I'm glad vur ta zee be tha vollering rime, Thit ha hath a bin makin zich use uv es time. I'm in a gurt hurry jist changing me togg, Zo mist stap, vrim yer veckshinit brither, N. HOGG. KNASTONE, Hoctobur ist, 1856. MEASTER HAYDITUR, ZUR, I've a zot down ta drap A vew lines, tho' I bant bit a labering chap, Vur thares miny vrim this part agaun vur ta sar (Tho' es dont vight merzul) in this turribul war, An tha noos that com'th horn shaws ta wance at a vew, Thit thay naws how ta shet an use bagganits too, An if you kin hannel a gun, way laurd drab et ! A Rooshin's moar aisy to shet thin a rabbit; Tho' es bant gid ta boast, es kin saffly declair, Es kin knack down a vew, za wul's wan here an thare, An if twadd'n vur this, thit es bant auver wul, Es shude like vur to go out to Roosha merzul ; An if in thicky place bit wan voot es cude git, I warn'ee I'd warm up the varmints a bit; Bit tis no use ta tull about " wid if ha cude," Vur if aul dith tha zame thare'l be nort a tal dood. A girt miny may think, cuz es lives in a place Ware tha papers, an nuse, an zich things, be za skace, Thit es naws nort a tal bout tha war thits gwain aun, An daunt care a varden vur thay thit be gaun ; 36 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Bit I tull thur wat tis, Measter H., droo tha Ian, Et be velt mortal coot be tha poor tu a man; As a proof then es went inta Exter wan day, Vur ta by a vew things zich as cannels and tay, An 'twis rap'd up'n paper : Es vound et ta state, Thit a battel wis vaut and tha Rooshins wis bate, An tha day arter that, William Vlint wen ta town, An com'd horn way tha ribbins aul vlying aroun ; A chap ax'd 'n ta drink wance, ha zed a wis wulling, An gied en a coin what ha cal'd tha Queen shulling, An es thort ta merzul as ha tell'd et ta Roger, Thit et didd'n take murch vur ta make wan a sodger. Now yu zee tho es cant raid ur rite vury murch, Thit es veels aul about et za wul as the urch ! Es it true wat thay zay, thit tha Rooshins makes nort, Vur ta boil down tha English and Vrench ta mak mort ? A chap tole mer zo tother day, an zed that Thay ait nort in ta wordel zept cannels an vat, Laur a macy, pursarve es ! jist vancy Will Wannel A boil down like a baist an turn'd into a cannel ! Bit tha rais'n I vrites, Measter H., is to say Ivry week I'm a gwain ta put drippence away, Vur ta take in a paper, zo if yume incline, Ta resaive et zometimes, I'll jist drap 'ee a line, Vur et may be as how es be able to shaw A vew thing thit yer readers daunt happen ta naw, If yu think et weth while, yu kin jist drap a wurd, An I'll vrite thur immaydyet za glad as a burd ; Way tha kendest rispeks, tho long I've a knewd 'ee, Til be yer most dootiful zarvant, JAN MOODY. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 37 PLIMMITH ZITADIL,! Thesdy nite. DEER JAN, I zit mer doun to zay, Thit wat I tole thur tother day Tun'th out ta be kurrek; A Tuesdy nex (tha auder's com) Us laives ; zo then ta zee mer horn (If Bets '11 1 let mer go herevrom), Thee mayst uv kuse expek. 4 Bit vath ! tha maid hur tak'th on zo, I dunnaw if I shill ur no, Laive Plimmith thick same nite ; Besaides, the money'th urn'd za zshort (Jist wan an eight a figger a nort And nat a single skiddik bort) Zo Bets mist mak et right. * The above poem originally appeared under the title, " The Drawing-room, the Kitchen, and the Barracks." f Nathan's patriotic sentiments, as well as his versatility of talent, are so well known to his friends, that they will hardly be surprised to find he has devoted himself to the service of his country. J Poor Zogg, to whom a tender epistle, doing equal credit to Nathan's head and heart, will be found among his published letters, expired previous to 1847, through an over consumption of green gooseberries. It is a matter of duty to allude to this affect- ing circumstance, in order to show that Nathan's second engage- ment did not take place until after years of sorrow for his early love. 38 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Deer Jan, I'm sorry to me hart Vrim zodgerin again to part, An go back drashing Caurn ; Bezaides, the clothes be murch more vine I'm zshorely made ta cut a shine I'll join some Urdgmint in tha line, Za zshore as I be baurn. Laur ! if you uny cude bit zee Tha vlink thits cuts be Bets an me Wen us go'th out to wahlk ; CivMlins stare way all thare hyes, An as es cut'th out droo Mount Wise, (We two be purty murch wan size) Tis good ta hear min tahlk. Tha maidens here be jillis, vath! An hollith arter's in tha path Wan zeth " hullaw me buck ! You Ve got a hansom craiter now, Hur vlap'th hur tail like our ole zow ; An riggl'th like a Kursmis cow An waddl'th like a duck !" " Bit nivir mine," zes I ta Bets " No, Jan," zeth her, " sich highnint sets Thay wishes thay wis me ! " Zo aun es go'th vur no wan wait An tridges droo strait arter strait (Till Bets her dith git vairly bait), Za big as iny dree. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 39 Us rests a bit, an then go'th vore, An then I zee'th her horn ta door Zom times es go'th in houze; Bit tidd'n auff n es dith that, Tha playshir idd'n weth a grat Thay'd hear tha purdlin uv a cat, Or squatting uv a mouze. I niver shal vurgit, wan nite Bets thort that every thing wis rite An thit tha voks wis out; Zo vrim tha kitchen then es tares, An on es went up auver stairs Ta zee tha rooms (zich grand affairs), An rammeld aul about. Bim bye es com'd into a room (Zich tiddivation an perfoom Aw ! how et made mer stare !) Bit laur ! es zoon com'd to a stap, I railly thort I must a drap, Vur thare was Missus in a nap, Jist in tha haisy chair. " My hyes ! " zes I es back es shet " Aw laur a macy ! " zing'd out Bet " Whose thare ? " tha Misses zed ; " O plaize Mum me," an in Bets went (I winder that hur didd'n vent), Zes hur, " plaise Mum I uny ment To ax if you'm vur bed." 40 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Mainwhile I crayp'd out uv tha pleace (Aw ! if you had bit zeed me veace I wis in zich a stid) ; Zo vrighten'd I've a niver bin, I daunt think wen I zays'd ta rin, That if you'd stik'd me way a pin I raily shude a blid. Wen ax'd inside (moast times) I zay " I hant vurgot tha tother day Tha vright in wich I stood ; " 'Pin times I take a drap of beer Wi jist a curst, bit theres zich veer, Et makes mer veel za mortal queer, An dith more harm thin good. Bit dang et aul ! I'm riting aun Till aul tha paper's moast agaun, An cannel jist burn'd out ; I doant think I kin keep'n in, Bit praps by striking in a pin Iss! that'll do zo I'll begin An V.inish wat I'm bout. No vath I cant, the cannel's val'd, An trying to mak'n burn I've scald Two vingers an a thum; Ta scraly in tha dark es vain, Bit Tuesday next I'll write again, Vur then I shant be in zich pain, Nur bothe me legs be num ! NATHAN HOGG. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 41 THE DRAWING-ROOM. Oh Emily dear, I sit me down, Tho' I can hardly see ; My eyes and heart are drooping with That dreadful thing ennui ; What shall I do oh dear, oh dear Whatever shall (!) I do I'll try to while an hour away By writing, love, to you ! Well, first of all, I must premise (How do I live to tell The tale) we've lost our gallant beaux, Whom all have loved so well ; The gallant Devons they have gone To private life have fled; Their military sun is set Deep gloom is overspread. Excuse this sad funereal strain Their shadows 'tis that flit Around my heart, oh Emily dear, And haunt me where I sit, Aye, as I sit, or walk, or play, They still come floating in, O'erhanging all with sombre hue That all so bright hath been. 42 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Where is the glad, familiar face One daily used to greet- Now on the Hoe, then at the Ball, And ever in the street? You recollect your favorite, The handsome Captain B ? Well, he has gone, and so as well Has that dear Captain C ? That thrilling voice I loved to hear At Theatre and Ball, That fell so sweetly on the ear As song at even-fall. Is still and hush'd is heard no more (At least is hush'd to me,) Oh Emily dear oh Emily love That dear, dear Captain C ! Poor Fanny too unhappy girl Her sand of joy is run, She droopeth like a gentle flow'r That pineth for the sun. I seek to rally the dear girl, And try each soft caress; But no (altho' he is not far,) She weeps for Captain S . But let me not distract your heart, For you, dear girl, have known The deep abiding joy that was Around their presence thrown. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 43 Oh, could I, sweet beloved friend, Upon your bosom creep I cannot write no, Emily, love, I'm better fit to weep. I feel, since they have left our halls, As if all joy were fled; Our streets seem barren, and more like A City of the Dead. Oh, little knew they, when they left, The spirits sad and true That wish'd they could have (angel like !) Been disembodied too. HENRIETTA. THE KITCHEN. Good bye, dear Tummas ! once again- Oh, claps me to yer heart ; My heyes is drippin like a joint To think that we must part ; And must I never hear you more Pool hat the hairy Bell ? You'll never git a Kitchen more, Like this oh, fare you well ! Where will you get the little tits That sarv'd for brekses mail ; The bits of sugar and the tay, The mutton, pork and vail ; 44 NATHAN HOGG S LETTERS. Where will you git the roastin fat Sick perkisits to sell ? You'll never git the likes again Dear Tummas, fare you well ! Oh, could my hart but epen now, And you could look inside ; And see the fire that's burnin there That hart is almost fried. Not my young missus who'th a fall'd In love way Ensyn L Lovs haf so true as I hav lov'd Oh, Tummas, fare you well ! Oh Tummas, dear, the more I look On you my heart gits fuller, You beats, as young Miss Hemly ses, "That duck, that Cappen B ." You have not got that Mustashoo She ses so graceful curls Dear Tummas, if you had, I could Not kiss you no, for worls ! Oh, Tummas, 'tis a shame that he Who'th sarv'd the Queen like you, Should go back into private life Wayout a single screw. But never mind Here's three-an-nine r Thet to my lot hath fell 'Twill pay the train to Exeter, Dear Tummas, fare you well ! NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 45 But oh, my hart is breaking now, Jist like poor Alice Gray ; Like her I feels I cannot live When you am far away, Oh, when you walks behind the plow, Once more in fustin drest, Dear Tummas do remimber then, The Burro's in my brest. SALLY SPIT. &lja Etfle (Corps. EXTER, June 26th, 1859. DEER JAN, Et be zed thit as zshore as a gun, When tha King uv tha Vrench way tha Astrins ith dun, Ha'll be boun ver ta keep aul es sawjers astur, An in awder ta do et muss kom auver yur ; Now aul I kin zay, if ha wull, let'n kom, Et strik'th me ha'll vury zoon wish ha wis horn. Bit en kase ha shude do zo may be yu've a yerd Thit tha Quene ith gied awders an zent roun tha wurd, Thit Corpses uv Rifles be vorm'd droo tha Ian, An Exter 'th bin ax'd way tha rest to bare han. Tha old zitty wis niver naw'd eet vur ta shurk, An twis thort et wis best to at wance zit ta wurk. Zo thay did, an deer Jan, I be vury murch plais'd, Vur to zay thit a Corpse uv up aighty be rais'd ; Tho' wy thay be caFd zich a name, I can't tul, An I think et ith puzzled miny mour then mezul ; 46 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Bit et dith zim ta me mortal quare, as- I've zaid, Ta cal min aul Corpses avaur thay be daid. I ax'd up ta Castle a chap stannin bye, An ha zed 'twis becuz thit thay'd vight till thay die ; Bit laur arter aul there beant murch in a name, An wativer yu cal min thay'll vight jist tha zame. Wul I went up last Mundy ta zee, if I cude, Tha vust zort uv hexercise-like thit wis dood ; I thort I wis late, but I gied a gude rin, An kom'd jist in time vur ta zee min begin. Thare wis ole men, an yung men, an zom awmin lads, I shude think about aighty, sar'd out in dree squads ; An a sargent, ur wat a wass, passeld ta aich, Praps tha vewer thare be, tha moor aisy ta taich. Deer Jan, yu hant niver zeed zawjers ta drull, Zo I'll gie thur a hinsite intoot if yu wull. Now tha vust thing I yer'd tha kimmander a callin, Wis vur aul awmin thare vur ta turn ta an " val in ; " An zes I ta mezul zee how things kom about, Thare'd no need ta val in, if voolz didn't val out. Wul tha nex thing thay dood wis ta holler out " Dress ! " Hullop ! to mezul vur zoftly I zess, An I thort I shude railly a laff'd mezul hose, Vur I vancid thay aul wis vur changin thare close, Eet I thort to mezul as I look'd aul about, Thay mit jist as wul dood et avaur thay kom'd out ; I made a mistake, zo et zim'd, bit no hurt, Wat thay main'd wis ta vetch up a little bit zmurt. Then thay cal'd out "Attenshin ! " maining H ark wat I zay " Stand at aise ! " daunt 'ee put yerzul out a tha way ; An wen thay'd a put min droq a vorm ur tu moar, They zess " As you was," wich es Stan like bevaur ; Wul then twis " Left Vace "and " Right Vace " arter that, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 47 Jist as if thit two vaces wis under wan hat ; Arter that " Right about," an I thort zo, thinks I, That's tha moove us'll taich Measter Vrenchy him bye, Wull then tha went ballancin tap a wan voot, Twis a winder ta me how tha dooce thay cud doot ; I tried et mezul wen I got horn thic night, But zom how or tother I cud'n doot vright I spose I shuv'd wan a me veet too var out, Vur I vaFd an resayv'd a moast turrabul clout ; Thay cals et tha " Goose stap " vur a bit uv a meg, Cuz thic bird es za clivir ta stan pin wan leg. Then twis slow time, an quick time, an quick march an zlow ; " March in vile," wich in kuse yu cant possabul naw ; Wull I'll tull'ee tis walkin wan arter another, Za close thit wan leg git'th inzide a tha tother, How thay dood et za wull, I cant vury wull zay, Bit tha tother chaps hoofs wid be murch in me way. Wull, then thay had aup'n an close viling too, And a girt many anticks no use ta vrite you, Bit I yerd a ole sawjer whose able ta tull, Zay thay did thare minoovers moast cabical wull. Bit want min veel prowd, wen bim bye thay be let, Ta hav powder an bal, an be tole vur ta " Shet ! " Bit talkin a shettin, I've yerd et a told, Tis wan tha moast winderful zights ta behold ; An thit if a mile auff pin a geat yu shude zit, Thay kin nack thur, 'tis zed, down za daid as a nit, In vack, I'm a tole, if a chap cude be zeed, Wan cude stan pin Ex Bride, an hat'n down out ta Ide ; An vurder thin that, a chap zed thay cude shet, Roun a corner be shakin tha trigger a bit ; An that wance an ole dumman, droo Kenton did pass, An was hat be a chap thit vired straight ta Starcrass. 4& NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. If that be tha case, tho' I zim twis es chaff, Ta me it zims dahngerous (vath) ta be saff. What a differns, deer Jan, wen es used ta go out, An up in dree akers git shettin about ; Wat a differns, I zay, in tha guns thi'ts made now Way ours wis good viring to shet crass tha mow ; As vur veefty yards auff, or vorty, laur drab et ! Yu mit teake a moas tender varwull uv a rabbit. Laur Jan ! how I be urning aun ta be zshore, I've a vill'd up me paper, an' can't vrite no moar Ees I kin (else I cud'n a vinish'd a tal) A vew lines pin tha endilope praps I kin scral ; Vury vew it muss be tho, an now me deer Jan, Yu zee wat thay'm doing aul droo out tha Ian. Now uv kuse aul tha kripples, an blind, an like thet, They cant be expected ta march ur ta shet; Bit thay who kin Vord it, I think shude be boun, If thay cant do nort else, ta come out way thare poun. Et kausts iv'ry wan awm, vury close, dree poun ten, Wich kant be avorded be miny yung men. If ole voks git purtected an sav'd aul tha trubble, If thay can, thay should aul awmin vork out es dubble, I menshun this yer, aul I zay es " zo be et," I kin uny zay vurder, I haup I shill zee et. Ta vrite thur zom moar I shude ha no objeckshin, Bit I shant ha no rume vur ta vrite tha direckshin, An me vinger's jist like tha hind leg uv a dogg Crook'd up way tha cramp. Vrim yer brither, N. HOGG. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 49 JHja to umman toaj tfja fflrij Clofte; UR SEfja (Sfttl ffige. A WITCH STORY. Et wis Kursmis Eve, how et znaw'd ta be zure ! An tha win wissel'd droo tha kayhaul uv tha door, Wen Varmer Jan Vaggis, an Vrends, wis a zot A zmoakin thare backy, an zoopin thare pot ; Aul wis silent wayout, 'zept tha noys uv tha trees, An tha znaw, in zom pairts, wis up auver yer nees, Wile a quack ur a grint mit be yer'd droo tha zleet, ; Z if tha ducks an tha pigs ad got cole in thare veet : Bit nat zo way Jas Vaggis es darter Mariar Ad a shuv'd tha ash-vacket pin tap uv tha viar, An wat way tha zmal stiks za wul as tha blocks, Et raich'd ta tha crook ware thay hang up tha crocks. Thare thay zot, an tha blaze thit shet out vrim tha sticks, Play'd an vlicker'd like zinlight pin tap uv thare chik's, An Will Stump, who'd a inklin vur kuartin tha darter, Look'd an zimper'd an drade up es eyes quite therearter, While hur, that is wile in wan place hur'd remain, Drade sheeps-eyes ta he vore an backurd agane, 50 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Wul tha licker went roun, an thay hadd'n zot long, Wen Jan Vaggis cal'd out pin Rab Vinch vur a zong, Zo ha kauff d wance ur twice an then pitch'd auff tha kay An vur bout haf a nower wiz toonin away, Til tha hood znap'd an crack'ld an sparks shet aroun, An wan awmin drap'd pin Jin Vaggis's gown ; Now et wadd'n obsarv'd till et burn'd nearly droo Nat uny hur gown bit her undercoat too, An ole Jinny wis zidd'n stap'd zshort in hur laf, Wen hur voun thare wis zummat seal hot to hur caf. My hivers ! hur zot too an holler'd an skritch'd, An Jan Vaggis zing'd out " Laur a macy ! hurs witched," Zo es thort twis tha case, as hur jump'd aul about, Till hur holler'd out " Viar ! Aw, stiffle et out ! " An away urn'd Tarn Chidley, Urch Mugvurd, Rab Vinch, Vur ta bring in zom wotter, tha burnin ta quinch ; Bit Jan an Mariar (tho' thay wadd'n long 'bout et) Way tha ale in tha kwart, ad a manijed ta doubt et ; An Jinny ta last wis a got auff aul saf That, uv kuse, es exzeptin tha seal in hur caf : Wat a macy et was tho, as ivry wan zeth, Thit tha old humman wadd'n a skaldid ta deth ! Wul thay zot roun agane, an thay vill'd up tha kwarts, An tha yet an tha drink zim'd ta warm up thare harts Aul exzeptin Jan Vaggis, who zot back behind, As if ha'd got zummit pin tap uv es mind ; Till Mariar zeth " Vather ! way why do'ee zit Za var back ? way et dith'n look zoshil abit ! " Then Jan Vaggis zot vorid, saying " Harkee ta me ! I kinfess thit zomhow cruel narvis I be, An when Moather thare holler'd, twis exzack like a skritch I wance yer'd vrim a Humman they zed wis a Witch ; Now I cant zay hur iver dood me iny harm, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 51 Bit I naw zom pin worn hur wance work'd out hur charm, Zo if you'll be quiet let's drink drap a ale I'll try ta raymimber zom pairts uv tha tale." Arter drinkin an dra-ing es zleeve wance acrass Es mowth, ta es Missus tha licker ha pass, Then ha took up es pipe, an ha kauff'd auff tha hoce, An zeth Varmer Jan Vaggis " Wull hark'n now, zo's " An wen thit ha zeed es had pass'd roun tha cup, Ha begun'd jist as vollers, es tale ta tull up : JAN VAGGIS'S TALE. Zom yurs ago, I need'n stap Ta tull tha wen, ole Nanny Tap Liv'd out ta Baw, a mortal plat Vur witches an tha likes a that. Now, auver this old humman's haid A hundred yurs ad pass'd, twis zaid ; Ta zee hur, iny wan wid zim Hur was za old's Methusalim. Now Nanny Tap wis cruel pairt, An aw ! hur dress I've zeed hur wair't- Likewise hur looks an kooryis ways, Wis like wat 'twas in oulden days : Hur cloke was urd, hur bunnet black, Way hood aul urnin down hur back, An then hur kar'd a humberul Wid cover aight besides hurzul; As vur tha hannel uv tha stick, Twis sharper thin a aigles bick, An Nanny's nauze an hannel too Look'd redy vur ta urn thur droo. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Bit talk uv vaityers, aw my laur ! Yu niver zeed zich veace avaur; Et was za long, and yeller too, Way rinkels urnin rite down droo, As if a picksy way es plow Had took et vur a barley mow, An work'd et too'n avore, agin Ha com'd ta zaw tha barly in; An aul tha pitmarks in hur chaps Zim'd like tha picksy's hosses' staps. An then hur ad a Evil eye, Thit if pin wan hur did let vly A zingle glimpse, ha cud'n stan, An zshore ta be a rooin'd man, An day by day ta meet way harm, Wayout her took'd away tha charm. Hur eye wis green, jist like a cat, And glimmer'd like I dunnaw wat, Bit when hur haupen'd min ta vew Ha zim'd ta shet thur droo an droo, An tap an toe yude veel a stitch Thit cud'n com 'zept vrom a witch. Wul if yude go into hur room Laur jay ! yu niver wat perfoom ! Aul roun tha wals, pin tap a barbs, Yude zee bags arter bags uv harbs Thit Nanny used ta boil an stew, Thereway hur witchin things ta doo. Zom times hur'd doo a vrenclly deed Ta zom poor vokes in time a need, But if yude put hur out thay way Yu wid be zshore ta rue tha day, Ur if yu cude and wadd'n wullin NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 53 Ta gie hur, when hur ax'd, a shulling ; But as hur cude doo bad an gude I'll tull thur zom hur hath a dood. Now if thee'dst got a prickle in Thee leg, a inch vrim auf tha skin, Hur'd murch en down an zay a prare, An then thee wiss'n ha min thare ; Ur if pin tap a thorn yu zot, An in tha vleshy pairt ha got, Bevaur hur zed dree wurds yu voun Tha varmint craypin zlowly down ; Ur zay thit yude a got a vit Jist gie ole Nan a dripmy bit, Hur'd put'n tap hur eye an zay " I zee tha trubble gwain away," An zshores a gun, away ha'd vly Like vapper droo a zummer sky. Bit Laur a macy pin tha chap Thit wid ofvend ole Nanny Tap ! Hur'd trubbl'n in tha daid a nite Way stitch an cramp, an zore avright, An wen ha'd strik a match zom wan Wid zim ta hat'n vrom es han ; Ur if ha'd got tha cannel in Zummat wid blaw min out agin ; An then hur'd pinch tha zsheep an cows, And make min turn about tha mows, An niver wance wid let min stap Till way furtig irt down thay'd drap ; An then hur'd kar aun purty rigs Among tha vowls an ducks an pigs ; Vur hinstins, hur wid dra a lite Upon tha roost at daid a night, 54 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An make tha cocks believe therevrom Thit stid a nite, Cockleert wis com, An thare thay'd zit, an tuck an craw, Till thay ad skace got breth to draw ; An wen tha ducks a brood wis zot, Hur'd make tha eggs za mortal hot, Thit down thay'd squat an niver vail, Pore crayturs, vur ta seal thare tail ; And then tha litt'l pigs wid zook, An twinjy in tha jaws wis took, An then pore things thay'd vume an vret, An bite rite droo tha ole zow's tet, Till hur, pore thing, wid git za zore, As nat ta let min zook no moar, Zo thit, poor cayturs, down thay'd lie, Git thin, an pine irt auff an die. Zomtimes hur'd ha zom other ways, An make tha beddin zwarm way vlays, Thit wid tha litt'l childern bite An make min bal an squal aul nite ; Zomtimes hur'd make tha pudd'n dance, An zomtimes vrom tha crock ha'd prance, An wen ta git min back thay'd strive Ha'd kik an pool, as if alive. Wul then hur'd tu tha ziller stray, An let tha zyder urn away, Bit, stranger still, if yude bit taste Tha licker thit ad urn'd ta waste, 'Twis waik as wotter when hur'd titch'd Tha licker ivry drap wis witch'd ; Zom zed tha zyder wis a took, Ta gie hur sweetheart, be tha cook, And jist ta make as if urn'd out NATHAN HOGGS LETTERS. 55 Hur'd drade zom watter aul about; Bit twadd'n zo, vur ivry day Twis proov'd tha Missus keep'd tha kay. Bit Laur! I hant a tole thur haf, A zom tha things wid make thur laf ; Vur hinstins, wan ole cat'd a got Up veefty kittens in a lot. An in tha nite wen thay wis drown Tha awful'st squal wis yer aroun Tha houze, an out in mucks and dirt Urn'd Dan'l Bittle in es shirt, Wen lo tha veefty cats he zaw Way skins za whit as draivin znaw, Zo in ha urn'd an shet tha door An did'n look, thic nite, no moar; An ivry nite, up vule a week, Thay'd com an dance an squail an squeak ; Ta last ha went ta Nanny Tap, An drawd a shullin in hur lap, (Th' old humman niver was the wan Ta take tha munny in hur han) An arter that tha squals did zayce, An Dan'l Bittle zlayp'd 'n payee. Bit thaize be little things compeard Way thicky tale you ant a yeard. Bit vust uv aul, Jan Vaggis zeth, Less stap a minnit an vetch breth; I'm dry, just chucked a drap a ale, I'll then purseed ta tul me tale. Now havin drink'd and vetch'd es wind Ha gied a kauff an thus begin'd : Wan Varmer Plant, I nawd'n wul, An yer'd tha vury lips awn tul 56 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Tha tale thit naw I tul ta yu, An wat ha zed I naw wis tru. A longful time this Nanny Tap Wis cauzin hee zom zore mishap, An pin tha Varm, be day nur nite, No zingle thing wil go aun vright. Wan day ha yerd thit hur wis zick Zo bad hur cud'n live a wick An ha'd a yerd thit if ha did, Avaur hur dide, jist let hur blid, If twas uny way a pin, Hur cudd'n trubble min agin. Wul auf ha went ta Nanny's houze, An up ha stalk'd za zofts a mouze, Then in ha went ta ware hur lay, An zed ha'd brort a litt'l tay- Tha quantity wis rayther zmal Ha hup'd hur'd live ta drink et al. Ole Nanny look'd twas aul hur zed An haup'd hur mowth an drade hur haid, An then hur hold'n out hur han Ha auft ta took et like a man ! Instid uv wich ha took'd tha pin An quick as litnin shet'n in. My hivers ; up th' old humman zot An shet out glimpses, viery hot, An when hur voun hur cud'n raich, Hur manijed ta vetch back her spaich; Hur zwared thit if hur pass'd hur dore Alive, ha shude naw payee no more, An, if hur dide, hur wid com back An make tha boans awn cramp an crack ; Hur'd rat es sheep, hur'd milk es cows, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 57 Hur'd turn things up'ndown in's houze, Hur'd scare es pigs, es ducks, and vowls Hur'd gie es zmal birds ta tha owls In vack hur'd doo min ivry harm ; Ha shuden prosper tap es varm. An then hur gied tha awfulst cuss, Ole Nick es zul cude zed no wuss. Wul varmer Plant ha veelid, tho, As if ha'd gie tha word'l ta go, Bit no, ha cud'n budge a stap, An veel'd as tho ha must a drap, Vur till ole Nan ad din her 'buse Hur took gude care ta witch es shoes ; Bit aul ta wance hur gied a quirk, An then tha charm ad zaysed ta work, Hur rap'd hurzul up in hur cloke An nat another wurd hur spauk. Wul varmer Plant, direck ha voun Es shoes let go, jist gied a boun, An out a doors ha then did rin Avaur cude zay Jack Rabinsin,* An horn ha went an niver stap'd Wile doun es veace, tha zwet et drap'd Za big es pays, til doun ha zot An way es Misses cozey got, Who drade hur harms es neck aroun An humman like zune camd'n doun ; An havin drade a joog a ale Hur got th' ole man ta tul tha tale ; Way thick me vrends I need'n paur * A mythical personage, supposed to be distantly related to "Mile*' Boy." 58 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Cuz es hav tole min wance avaur ; Zuffice et thit zune arter this Ole Nanny graw'd a girt dail wis, An vury zune gied up and dide, Being burry'd be hur ole man's zide. Thare's wan thing now I'm vaur me tale- (Jan Vaggis took'd a zoop a ale, An havin shet a glimpse aroun Ha let es voice drap zoffly down Ta zich a crewel quiet pitch) Thare's wan thing shaw'd hur was a witch ; Thic Old Urd Cloke, hur used ta ware, That nite hur dide wis tap tha chare, An tho tha winders an tha dore Wis shet up tight, hur com'd ees zshore ! An Cherry Hares, zune arter wan, Went down tha vullidge vur hur man, Wen way a w-z-z-z, a strake a urd Rish'd by hur nauze, za vleet's a burd, An leff behind et zich a zmul, Hur wad'n vur zom time hurzul. Ees zoce an zshores a gun HURD COM Thic nite ta kar hur Urd Cloke HOM. (As Jan zed this es voyce did val An zend a shidder droo min al). Wul then zeth he ta cut et zshort (Vur I raymimber moar'n I thort), Dree months ur moar away id pass'd, An varmer Plant ha thort ta last, An too es nayburs gin ta tul, Ha'd zettled ole Nan purty wul ; Bit Laur a macy ! twadd'n long Avaur ha voun thit ha wis vrong. NATHAN HOGG S LETTERS. 59 Wan nite ha adbeen out ta spend A hour ur two jist way a vrend, Tis tru a drap a groog ha'd ad, Bit eet a wadd'n auver bad, Ur else et mit be zed as how Ha did'n zee nort in tha mow. Wul aun ha went a little wile, An zune got past tha zekond stile, (I shude a zed thit droo tha mows Wis girt dail nearer to es howze), Wen aul ta wance, aw Laur ! ha zaw Tha hosses urning to an vraw ; Thare yers wis prick'd, thare tails acrass, Tha sheep wis rollin in tha grass, Bit wat made Jan tha moast avraid Wis wan cow stannin tap hur haid, Wile, lite as vethers, tap tha groun Zix pigs wis dancin aul aroun. (Here Rabin Vinch whose haid ad zunk Look up an zeth " Bit wadd'n ha drunk ? " Bit varmer Vaggis tap es stool Jist turn'd es haid, an zed, " Yu vool ! ! " Ha vury quickly zettled hee An sard'n as ha auft ta be.*) Wul Vaggis zeth as aun ha scral'd, Irt auver zummat zart ha val'd, An up ha got an ruckeyd doun Ta zee wat twas pin tap tha groun, * This insinuation deserved to be scouted. The probability of* the circumstance, and the improbability of Farmer Plant seeing at any rate more than double, should have convinced the most obtuse. 60 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Wen thare hur lide, a pin me wurd Ole Nan rap'd in hur Cloke a Urd. Wul varmer Plant I've yerd'n zay, Wis gally'd zo, ta urn away Ha cud'n ; an as ta jump a yurdle, Ha cud'n do et vur tha wurdle, Bit zshortly, in tha dimpse a nite, Ha zeed tha vigger zit uprite, Wen aul ta wance ha voun es veet, An then no race-hoss was za vleet ; Aun, aun, ha urn'd, bang auver stiles, An vancied thit es houze wiz miles, An way tha vleetness uv es peace Tha zwet wis streemin doun es veace, An aun ha went an niver stap'd Till horn ha com'd, wen doun a drap'd, An in a vit vur how'rs ha lide Thit aul awm thort ha must ha dide. Thay rubd'n up an rubd'n doun, An hang'd es haid tawards tha groun, In auder thit tha blid et mit Rin vrim es haid up droo es veet ; They rub'd es bully an es back, An then thay'd gie es nauze a wack, Ur siddenly thay'd make en stoop, An gie min jist a wisterpoop Bit no, in spite uv aul cude doo, Thay cud'n bring tha ole man too : Wen aul ulse vail'd thay mooved tha sheet, An way a strawmaut tick'ld es veet, Wen aul ta wanct ha skritch'h out " stap ! Aw law hurs com'd tis ole Nan Tap ! " An then ha gied zich dredvul groans, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 6l Moast loud anuf ta rise tha stoans Ees ! louder var than ole Zam Gully Wen wance tha gooseburry's grip'd es bully. Wul wen thay zed hur wadd'n thare, An zmooth'd es veace, an much'd es hair Ha haup'd es eyes, an then ha told Tha vrightvul zight ha had behold ; An zed thit twas aul up way hee An payee ha niver moar shude zee. Bit here et mit be right to stap, An zay as how a zaujer chap Pass'd droo tha vullidge, in tha day, An zom wis vools anuf ta zay Thit ha got drunk tha night bevaur, An thit thay'd bet a aiven skaur Thit, drunk, into tha mow ha scral'd, An auver hee, twas, Jan Plant val'd ; An zed, ta make thair tale aul rite, Ha zed ha'd zleep'd thare aul thic nite ; Thit twadd'n zo wis proov'd doun vlat Be wat took place zune arter that. Jan Vaggis stap'd to vetch es breath, Wich havin dood, as vollers zeth : Wul, zshore anuf, a Vridy mom, (This wis a Thesdy) aul vurlorn, Up com tha maid, in zic a vright, Ta zay thit jist avaur twis light, Hur went tha butter vur ta churn, Bit nat a hinch tha thing wid turn ; Hur drade an shuv'd, both vore an back, 62 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Bit no ! tha thing ha widd'n zlack, An as hur went ta turn about, A wiff blaw'd zlap tha cannel out : Hur manijed, in a awful vright, Ta grope aul aup tha zeckond vlight, An as hur pass'd tha vowerth stair Hur zaid hur yer'd tha wurd, " beware ! " Wul vath tha maid ad harly din, Avaur Will Vlint com vustlin in Ta zay (with zich a thindrin rap), Tha hosses wid'n moove a stap; Ha'd tride be kik, an jit, an nudge, Bit nat a zingle wan wid budge, An wen ha zed " wat want'ee go ? " Ha zwared tha whit hoss hanser'd " no ! " Zo arter that nat wan ha tich'd, Being zartin thit thay aul wis witch'd. Wul droo tha day ees I'll be shot ! Tha later twas tha wiss et got, An vaur tha nite ole Nanny's charm Wis wurkin ivry pairt tha varm, An zoon tha stock kar'd aun thare vlings Be dooin moast unnate-ril things; Vur hinstins dree wole broods a chicks I think in aul up twenty zix Irt bang into tha milpond chucks, An raily thort thit thay wis ducks, An zeb'n ur aight wis uny vound Out uv tha lot, the rest wis drown'd ; Tha ole mare drauv hur colt away An let tha cav zook haf the day Wile auf tha colt wid urn an draw Hiszul rite in tha tetty traw, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. / 63 As if ha thort thare was a chance Ta end es trubbles aul ta wance. Wan day tha dog jist gied a kauff An to tha stump, es tail bite auff ; As vur tha cat up stairs hur'd gaun An put tha yung cheel's nightcap aun, An bout a vortnit arter that Ad kittens in ole Jan Plant's hat, Aw macy me ! ta zit an tul Wan haf yude be bezide yerzul. Bit jist ta zum up aul tha lot Tha pigs pin tap tha ducks eggs zot, Wile thay, pore things, away wid vly And make thare kwarters in tha sty; Tha hosses widd'n zasv nur plow ; Cud git no zense vrim cav nur cow ; Tha mill wid stap way aul es mite, Tho' aul the wotter urn'd aun rite; Tha Jackasses aul uv a heep, Wid zing out awful in thare zleep In vack nat wan escap'd tha charm Thit wurk'd upon Jan I'lantes varm. Wul this went aun, ees vath et did ! Till cud'n be stood be vlesh an blid ; Nite arter nite, day arter day, Tha things wid pine, vur weeks away, An aut thit vamer Jan wid try Zim'd bit ta make min vaster die. Outzide ha'd hang a hosses shoe Wich in moast cases zshore ta do, Bit no ! hur did'n care a rap, Et cud'n scare ole Nanny Tap, An then ha'd got a bulliks hart, 64 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An shuv into tha tender part, A lot a pins twis niver naw'd Ta vail avaur twis munny draw'd I'rt bang away, vur nat a rap Vur bulliks harts cared Nanny Tap ! Wul arter tryin aul ha cude, An nothing thit ha'd din ad dude Wan day ha zed unto es wive " Et zims thit es shall niver thrive, Wat in tha word'l kin es doo, I cant tul ort, now Bets kin you ? " Then up hur spauk zeth hur " wul Jan ! I hav a yerd thit thares a man, A whit-witch cal'd, in Exter Toun, An if you gie min bit a crown, Ha'l tull thur how, ha es za ctiver, Ta draive ole Nanny Tap vur iver." Zeth he " then Bets, jist cal in Rob, An tell'n ta wance to zaddle Bob I'll go, za zshore as my name's Jan, An gie a crown ta thicky man." Wul Rob wis reddy vury zune, (Tha airly pairt uv tha vaurnoon) Zo auff ha went, trat, trat, trat, trat, Way mucks tha hoss's bully scat, An vath ha took bit little while A ridin in thic zixteen mile Vur Bob eszul wis awful titch'd, An went jist like a hoss a witch'd. When inta Exter ha'd a got Ta maister Tuckitt's vore ha zot; Ha ring'd tha bul, tha messidge zent, Pool'd auff es hat, an in ha went, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 65 An zeed a vuller in a room Thit zim'd in zich a vret an vume ! Ha zed ha'd lost a cav and cow, And com'd in thare ta naw as how, Vur Measter T., at litt'l cost, Had auff'n vound tha things ha'd lost ; An wat mit be (zo ax'd tha man) Tha arrant thare uv Varmer Jan? Then up'n auff ha tole how hard, Be ole Nan Tap, ha had bin sar'd, An tole et aun till, vath ha zend Tha vuller's hair rite up'n end, An as Jan's kase wis murch tha wust. Ha'd let min zee tha whit-witch vust. Bim bye, close by, thare ring'd a bul, A zarvant then com'd out ta tul Tha witch wis reddy, in Jan gose, Jist pool'd es hair, zed how do zo ? s, When lo ! a vigger vore did stap Pin tap es haid a hairy cap; Es hair wis zich a cruel vright Twis zom aw't yeller, zom aw't white, An then tha clcke ha wared aroun Wis black, an drappin ta tha groun, In vack tha zight aun, et wis zich Ta shaw et wance ha was a witch. Wul suddenly ta Jan's alarm, Tha whit-witch zes " I naw tha charm ! " An zed, vaur Jan cude zay a wurd, " Tis ole Nan Tap tha Cloke a Urd ;" Ha wink'd es eye zed " Raw, ra, ree,* * Mystical words understood only by those who have proved their efficacy. 66 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. I'll wurk a charm ta tackle she ; " Aul Jan cude doo, in zich a stid, Wis valter out " ha haup'd ha wid." Wul aim thay talk'd a longful time Jan ad zom zyder vath twis prime An tho' tha whit-witch up'n told Moast ivry thing Jan ad behold. Now yer et mit'n be out tha way, Ta menshin wat zom asses zay : Be nawnort voks et hath bin told, Thit thick thare chap thit Jan behold, Who zed es kase wis murch tha wust, An thit ha mit go in tha vust, Wis nothin moar'n tha witch's man, Put thare ta draw things out a Jan ; An thit twis bit a papern wal, Zo thit tha witch cud yer et al, An, wen Jan enter'd tother dore, Cude tul min aul ha'd naw'd avaur; Let children talk zich stuff ta school ! Dee think Jan Plant wis zich a vool ? Yer Riar 'nother kwart a ale, An then less git back too tha tale. Tha qwart wis brort, Jan vilPd es pipe, Zeth when ha'd gied es nauze a wipe Wul as I zed, they talk'd anour, An then tha timepeace warn'd vur vour ; Then vrom Jan Plant tha crown ha took'd NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 67 An gied zom things, like stoans thay look'd, Tide in a bag ; zes he, now tek An hitch min up aroun yer nek, An zay this prare " Depart, oh witch, Likewise depart aul other zich " Then sprink som wotter vrim a bucket, An zay, " I doot in name uv Tuckit ; "* Bit, honest like, ha zed twis chance, If ha cude draive Nan aul tu wance, Bit if, bim by, Jan vree wis voun, Ha widd'n, praps, mind another poun. A pound, zed Jan, Way if thee'st drive Hur clain rite auff, I'll gie thur vive ! Agreed zed he, jist gie's yer han I'll bet I draive hur vive ta wan : A Zaterday nite hurs zshore ta com, Vur Zindays, mind, hur must stay horn, Zo harken now an es shill zee Wich es tha girt witch, hur ur me. Ha tole min then, next Zaterday nite, Ta shuv up in tha chimly, tight, A vacket a hood, ur aiv'n two If thit ha voun wan widd'n do; An then ha was ta zay a prare Zo as ta bring th'ole humman thare ; Zes he be punkel haf pas zix I'll put th'ole humman in a vix ; I'll stay horn yer an work a charm Hur niver shill doo thur vurder harm. * There is always a charm in simplicity of expression, and tbe present exorcism is only a greater proof of the white - witch's power. 68 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Zo var zo good zes Vaggis I think I'll wet tha wissel way drap a drink Zo ha had another zoop a ale, Avaur kintinnying es tale. Waree was I zo's? aw, now I zee Tha pairting uv tha witch and hee ! Will horn Jan went, an strange to zay, A vew hours when ha'd gone away About tha time wen hee zot doun Way Measter T. in Exter toun Things mended horn and, tho nat rite, Went purty vair til Zaterday nite ; Ha bit dree times wis cal'd ta scare, Ole Nanny auff way zayin tha prare. Wul 'bout tha hour tha whit-witch zed, Tho too tha time ha look'd way dred, Ha went ta kuart ta vetch tha hood, Instid uv wich wats think ha dood ? Way stid uv hood ha brot horn Vuz An shuv'd et up tha chimly, cuz Ha'd yer'd thit wayout boans ur skin A witch cude veel tha prick'ls in; An vurdermoar ha then did stik Up droo, a sharp two-vorkid pick Thort he, " ole gal I've got thur now, Za zshores tha tail pin my old zow." Wul Jan Plant then begind ta pray, An hadd'n got no moar'n haf way, When lo ! ha yerd a zort a rap As if twis pin tha chimly tap, An aul ta wance a a \vful voyce, NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 69 Ha yer'd, an makin zich a noyse ! Zes he " wul Bets my eyes hurs com ! Poosh aup tha dore lets vlee herevrom," An vaur ha zed another wurd, Scat bang down tap tha vuz ha yer'd A hevy val, an zich a skritch Thit uny cud com vrim a witch. Wul auf ha urn'd, his wive urn'd too, Out in tha kuart ta hid vrim vew, Wen aul ta wance, out vrim tha dore, Thay zeed a vigger urnin vore, Way Cloke a Urd, an Eye a vlame, An urning too moast cruel lame, An as et went out droo, tha vowls An ducks an pigs zot up zich howls ; Tha moar thay ball'd, wayout a turn, Tha vaster did tha ole twad urn. Zes Jan, " look Bets ! " " Ees ! Ees ! " hur zeth, Jist hole yer bal, and bate yer breth, Way, tho hur es a gone za vur, I'll steak me davy et be hur ! Wul thare thay waited vule a nower, Ta moove a stap thay skace had power, Till Bets zeth " Jan ! " " Ees Bets ! " zeth he Shuv out yer han, lets veel where be ! I veel'n, " zeth hur ! " hurs out a zight I think es mit go in aul rite. Wul out went Jan, an arter'n Bet, An as acrass the kuart thay shet, Thay veel'd, ta use thare vury wurds, Thare blid aul kurdled into kurds," Bit bothe awm still keep'd urning vore, Till in thay got an shet tha dore ; NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. An then, aw laur ! way wat zurprise Thay zeed tha zight thit meet thare eyes. Thare wis tha vuz down tummil'd zlap Hur must a hat hurzul a wap ! As vur tha pick both vorks wis rid, Aul bout tha taps way lots a blid. Zeth Jan, " way Bets," and looked avresh, I thort this uny com'd vrim vlesh ! Bit Bets hur zed hur'd yerd avaur, Uv spurrits cover'd aul way gaur ; An Jan zed wen ha come ta luke He ad a raid zo in a buke. Zeth he, " wul now es need'n vret ! " Hur'd niver com again ha'd bet ; An, if ha liv'd ta zee tha day, Ta-marra ha'd go in an pay Ees ! pay wi joy tha munny down, Vur thicky man desarv'd vive poun, Thit cude purvent zich zore mishap, An scare a witch like Nanny Tap. Wul, having vust let in tha dog, Thay made tharezuls a drap a grog, Then up thay went to baid aul right An niver waked up vur tha night. Et may be ax'd ware was tha maids An thay ? way aul was in thare baids Tha whit-witch zed thit uny two Mist wurk tha thing, ur twidd'n doo. Next day Jan went ta Exter toun Ta pay tha witch tha munny down, An wen ha com ha ring'd tha bul, NATHAN HOGG S LETTERS. An yerd tha whit-witch wadd'n wul ; A stranger twas tha haup'd tha door, Tho Jan Plant zim'd thay'd meet bevaur An vur tha minnit thort as how Ha zeed tha man thit lost tha cow ; Bit, arter lookin in es veace, Ha thort et cud'n be tha keace. Ha zed es measter was ta bad Ta zee vriend P., bit that ha had Dereckly, wen tha bul did ring, Zed " varmer Plant ay that's tha thing ! " An thit ha'd told'n ta go doun An take vrim varmer P. vive poun, An tul'n ha mit rest mortal zshore Ha'd niver zee Nan Tap no moar; Zo horn a went an vrom thic day Aul things went in a riggler way. Bevaur I stap, et mit be wul Ta shaw what voolish tales vokes tul ! Twis zed, thic nite, thare wadd'n zich A thing a taul, bit that tha witch Wis Measter Tuckitt, who'd a com Aul out vrim Exter and therevrom Brort a Urd Cloke, an zo got doun Tha chimly, jist ta aim vive poun ; An that as doun tha place ha scral'd Ha zlip'd es voot, an doun ha val'd, An wat Jan thort wis Nan Tap's cry Wis wen tha vorks rin'd in es thy ; Thit in tha nite uv thick zame day, Zom vokes ad zeed min ride away, 72 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. As wen Jan Plant did call, twis zaid, Twis way tha zore ha lide a baid Bit as I've zed, that's vit vur skools, THA LAUR HA MACY PIN ZICH VOOLS ! ! An as Jan zed this, ha haiv'd a sife, That zim'd ta dra out haf es life, An Riar an hur Moather zot, A kainin in tha licker pot, An look'd za long til pin me wurd Thay zim'd thay zeed tha CLOKE A URD. Tha 'tothers as tha wind et blaw'd, Thank'd gudeness thay wis gwain wan raud An Rabin Vinch zed wance'n agane, " Laur ! want es shet by Mucksy Lane ! " Vur if thare's ort in aith ur air, Tis ten ta wan bit wat tis thare. Wul thare thay zot an speat an zmauk'd, And skace a zingle wurd wis spauk'd Till vury zune tha clock nac'k wan, Wen aul aw'm rauze to voller Jan, Who let min out, an ta make zshore, Like winky vasten'd too tha dore : Zoon as Rab Vinch an 'tothers got Outzide the kuart, Laur, auf thay zot ! An wen thay'd kort thare wind a bit Zot too, za hard as thay cude split, An niver ad a wurd ta zay, Bit keep'd stratch-gallip aul tha way. Wul, homeward thay aul took thare vlight An niver look'd ta lift nur right, Till passin Mucksy Lane aw, deer ! Thay aul aw'm jibber'd out way veer ; NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 73 Bit aun thay went, wan arter wan, Tho way tha znaw cude skacely stan, An veel'd unsaff till in thare baids, Thay rish'd an cover'd up thare haids. As vur Jan Vaggis, thee mit's zware Ha wadd'n long vaur hee wis thare. Mariar hur veel'd aul bit wul, An widd'n szleep nat by hurzul No moar wid Jan, zo, nat ta bother, Tha maid hur zleep'd outzide hur Mother ; An aul tha nite thare sifes an screams Shaw'd wat wis wurkin in thare dreams No winder ! tho I zay't merzul, A dred'fler tale I hant yer'd tu!4 Uv kuse I need'n zay tu yu Thit ivry wurd I've told es tru Ees vath ! tis tru's a vrog's a vrog, Zo varewul, zo's yours NATHAN HOGC. NOTE TO THE WITCH STORY. Paragraphs may frequently be seen in the newspapers headed " Extraordinary belief in Witchcraft," " Lamentable case of Superstition," &c., &c., and the readers thereof become duly asto- nished, throw up their eyes and hands, and ejaculate, " Can such things be in the nineteenth century ? " Verily, " good constant," such things can be and are, and, to lessen thy astonishment in the future, we would impose upon thee no long expedition involving the laying in of a fortnight's rations, nor even the pro- vision of a nightcap, but simply an afternoon's excursion now 74 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. and then, into some of the villages and hamlets within a few miles of this ever-faithful City, where, in many instances, the Railway is supposed to have borne intelligence, and the Electric Wire to have flashed enlightenment, and thou wilt soon find that the belief in Witchcraft and the appearance of Ghosts are no " extra- ordinary instance," and that, however " lamentable," supersti- tions of that kind are as general as is the vernacular in which the aforesaid story is written. That it is the general effect of ignor- ance to construe the simplest event, not quite comprehended, into supernatural agency, is sufficiently proved by the past, and that such ignorance still reigns throughout most of the rural districts of our native county, the writer has had ample proof and experi- ence ; indeed, he has never yet been able to find a village without a bridge of horrors some dark locality where weird sounds are heard ; horses without heads, or mourning coaches without horses, seen or some dreadful spectacle said to be periodically re-enacted from the Shades below. As an instance of the belief in Ghosts, it may be added, that a short time since, he happened to be pre- sent when nearly a whole village^ not seven miles from Exeter, with the Railway almost at its threshold, turned out night after night, for a week, horror-struck, to witness a light upon the windows of a house, said to be the spirit of an old lady who had recently died, and which turned out to be simply the reflection of the moon. Under these circumstances, it is little to be won- dered that the Hoggs, the Vaggises, and Plants, become robbed to a pretty considerable extent, for, to meet their ghostly emer- gencies, drunken tailors, 'idle shoemakers, and other worthless fellows, spring up into herbal doctors and white witches, and, by pretending to find out lost property, dispel charms, and lay ghosts, pick the pockets of their victims. The means adopted by these imposters, as suggested by the Witch Story, are not over- drawn ; and, incredible as it may appear, there are many Professors of the class mentioned now in the city, carrying on what they would in all probability term a " roaring " trade. NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 75 5TJ)a Jfianatogerg at ffister Fair. Tha gurt ugly Hellyfint widden kim out, Zo they gid min a whack cross his ligs an his snout, Wen a thote, I suppose, a wis in for a drub, A lopp'd out en than got up tap a tub. Tha leetle wan kim'd out, and urn'd along well, A'd a got round his neck a smahl tinkling bell, Zo much ver tha Hellyfints. Camyels, they say, Drinks nort in tha wordel but Cam-i-yel tay ; There wis lots aw min thare, bit my zister Sairey Zed thick way wan hump wis a young Drummy Dairy. Tha keeper a dark chap, by Dame Natur color'd Got into a den, drash'd sim baists till they holler'd, And jumped droo sim hoops.. twis most kapical fun ; Zo tha keeper kim'd out when he'd shet off a gun ; I thort that there there the best fun in the fair, yes, An than I'd a luke at the gurt Rhino-sairyis ; Zom chap thit stude by zed the name mid sound funny, Bit 'twis gied en becos that a cost sa murch munny. I 'pointed thick chap ver ta be my kinducter ; A show'd me a Sarpint, a big boy-kinstructer ; A laffin high-in-a, way sharp teeth an claws; " Army drillers," and " Forkintines," birds kall'd macaws, Pan its, love-birds, and likewise sim fine cocky 2's : In short tha chap dude all a cude to amoose. Lor a massey ! I mussen furgit 'bout tha munkeys ; Besides tha two Zebras (zem kails em wild dunkeys) ; The pickled Jim Pansey, or Gorilla, merits A line, as a lieth at his hearts-ease in Sperrits. An now I've a dude, cos I don't wish ta badger ye, Zo no moar ver the present about tha Manadgery. JAN. 76 NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. Bratrntnrfjian 3 usttce. April 3rd, 1863. Zom time agone a bundid yer, or moar, Gr p'raps tew hundid that I wont be shoar ; A boy, a murtchy makin gallis toad. A hurn'd away vrim skule, along tba ro-ad, Till a kim'd tu a gardin badge : en zo A got in auver 5 than a had a go At zom ripe gusebrees ; stuff'd his burtches vull, But thare a vall'd aslayp a leetle fule ! Ver a wis vound en tuk'd avaur the Mare, Twis kleer a haden got no bisniss thare ; Bit these yer boy a impident yung theef, Sed, " Mr. Mare, I'll tul ee my beleef, No gude to zay I wadden neast tha place, But you kant punish me in this year case." " What vor ? " tha Mare exclaim'd, " I like to naw ? " " Cos," zes the boy, " thare idden net no law Ginn stalin gusebrees in yer jistis buke." " Idden er ? " es worship zed " I'll ev a luke j " En zo a did ; a squirted droo es spartikels 'Bout laws gin stalin hoppels en other hartikels, Bit nort there was bout gusebrees " Wy thee'rt rait,' zed he, " Zo git long hoam these time but lookey zee ! Thee shetten volley thick thare theevin trade, I'll git a law 'gin gusebrees stalin made!" NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. 77 GLOSSARY. A, of, have. bang, to beat cole, cold abu, above banging girt, very com'd, came adu, to do, ceremony, great cort, caught adieu bant, am not cozey, comfortable agatm, gone barbs, sticks Grasses, crosses agin, against baw, bow crayturs, creatures agwain, going beant, am not crinted, grunted aight, eight begorz, an oath cude, could ails, eels bekase, because cud'n, couldn't ait, eat bess, best curst, crust aith, earth bim bye, bye and bye cuss, curse aiven, even bin, been cute, acute alongzide, beside bit, but cuz, because anuff, enough blaijed, obliged airly, early blid, blood arter, after bort, bought Drat et, ods rot it atween, between bout, about daps, image auder, order bral, brawl darter, daughter aun, on brauk, broken dashed, an exclama- aut, awt, of it brekses, breakfast tion auver, over bul, bell dide, died avaur, before dimmet, dusk aw, oh diss'n, don't you aw'min, of them dood, done aw's, of us Cabical, capital dra, to draw ax'd, asked caf, calf drab et, see drat it azide, beside cam'd, calm'd drade, threw carr, carry draivin znaw, driven cathandid, clumsy snow Bagganit, bayonet chaps, chops, cheeks drapp'n, dropt it baid, bed chaw, chew draut, throat baist, beast choel, child drashing, thrashing balling, bawling civillins, civilians drimpy, small bal, noise clainid, cleaned drippence, three- baloo, row clipper, a knock pence ban, band cockleert, daybreak dring'd, squeezed up NATHAN HOGG'S LETTERS. GLOSSARY. dude, done hannel, handle KnastoneKnowstone dunnaw, don't know hapmy, halfpenny kort, caught dyver'd, faded happered, halfpenny kuart, court worth kurrek, correct hat, knocked Kursmis, Christmas Ees, yes haup, hope kuse, course eet, yet hawls, holes kute, acute ekal, equal hight, eight kuss, curse endilope, envelope hikes, go er ur, or es, his, us, we hinklin, inclination hivers, my eyes VCn4- Iirct4- Let her blid, draw her blood nist, nast holler, to cry out laur, lor, Lord Poced, forced horn, home fust, first hood, wood Ma, my furra, furrow hullifint, elephant macy, massy, mercy f urtig, fatigue humberul, umbrella man'd, man would humman, woman manijed, managed hummen, women mare, mayor Gapsnested, gaped, hur, her mer, me looked hy. eye merzul, myself gawkim, a stupid miny, many fellow min, them gaur, gore gied, gave gie, give gilhal, Guildhall girt, great Iny, any irt, right ith, hath iv'ry, every ivers, my eyes ! mortal, very mort, lard mow, meadow field much, to smootho mucks, mud girtly, greatly ize, I am murch, much gorjus, gorgeous gwain, going Jainis, genius Nack, knock jist, just nat, not Ha', have nauble, ndble ha, he nauze, nose haf , half Kaining, looking naw, naws, know- haid, head karring, carrying ledge, knows hals, draws kend, kind nawnort, know no- harly, hardly, scar- kindiddled, enticed thing cely kintinnying, contin- noas, nose harbs, herbs uing nort, nothing haul, hole. kenhoods, Kenwoods hoce, hoarse kiss'n, can'st not Ort, anything NATHAN HOGG'S LfcTTERS. 79 GLOSSARY. Pakin, strolling sludder, shudder Vair, fair pasher, pasha speat, spit vaityers, features pairt, part, shrewd stap, stop vall'd, fell qauint staps, steps vailing, falling pasnips, parsnips steev'd, stiff vantysheeny, showy paur, to stuff, to fill stewer, dust vard'n, farthing penner'd, penny- stright, straight vurder, further worth strat, dash vath, faith pheasants, peasants stude, stood vaur, before picksey, an elf, or vaut, fault fairy infinitesi- veed, feed mal, but powerful Tft to veefty, fifty pin, upon pillamy, dust pirnt, print plat, plot, place, locality punkel, punctual purdlin, purling purty, pretty puss, purse A cl , LU tamarra, to-morrow tap, top tettys, potatoes that ares, that is, that that eres, that is, that thit, that tho', then, altho' (as tho') as if thort, thought thur, thee veet, feet vill'd, fill'd vin'd, fined vippence, fivepence vlink, fink, figure voks, folks voller'd, followed voolz, fools vorrid, forward vright, right Rails, revels raimid, stretched rammeled, rambled tich, to touch tidd'n, 'tis not tiddivate, to bedeck, vriiij troin vrites, writes vul, fool vuller'd, a fellow had rat, rot to ornament tu, to, two vung, vang, find,take, rauze, rise tul tell gather ruckee, to stoop down low tummil'd, tumbled vur, for vurgit, forgot vury, very Q ff t vussled, hurried OO-IIj SQ.IO sar, serve Ull, will vustling, fussing sar'd, served ulse, else vuz, furze scace, scarce uny, only scraly, to write ur, or shet, shut, shoot urch, rich Wack, knock shude, should urn, to run wacking, great sife, sigh urd, red wan, one skace, scarce urdgment, regiment wance, once skaur, score us'd, we had wangery, tired skiddik,thing,article uv, of wap, thrash 8o NATHAN HOGG S LETTERS. GLOSSARY. wapper-hy'd, sleepy wurraw, hurrah groggy wuss, worse wat, what way, with Teller, yellow wayout, without yer, your, here, hear weed, would yer'd, heard wen, when yewshil, usual wissel, whistle, the yu'm, you are throat yurdle, hurdle weth, worth whacker, great Za, so whisterpoop, a knock zait, seat wis, was zay, sea wiss, would'st, worse zart, soft whit, white zartin, certain worn, whom zaw, saw wordel, world zed, said wnl, well zee, see wur, were zeed, seen zes, says zich, such zide, side zidd'n, sudden zim'd, seemed zim, think zimper, a shy demon- stration zmacks, kisses zmoaking, smoking zoop, to sip largely zom, some zo's, folks, vriends, greeting to a person or persons present zot, sat zummat, something zune, soon zwetting, sweating LETTERS & POEMS TU ES BRITHER JAN, IN THE DEVONSHIRE DIALECT BY NATHAN HOGG. SECOND SERIES. DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO His HIGHNESS PRINCE Louis LUCIEN BONAPARTE. EDITED, WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BY ROBERT DYMOND, F.S.A. Edition Enlarged with a Revised Glossary. S. DRAYTON & SONS, 201, HIGH STREET, EXETER. 1902. An. RIGHTS RESERVED. Contents. DEDICATION ... ... ... r. MY PURTY JANE ... ... ... i TEA DAYSY TAP THA GRAVE ... ... 2 THA ZLAYPIN CHEEL ... ... ... 3 TWENTY YURS A RAYCOLLECKSHIN ... 5 THA CRICKET AN THA BITTLE ... ... 8 GWAYN HOM ... ... ... 9 THA ZINGIN TIME A LIVE ... ... 11 GIRT OFVENDERS AND ZMAL ... ... 13 MAL BROWN'S CRINALIN AN WAT COM'D AWT ... 14 A TURRABUL RIDE BEE RAYL ... ... i& MEZUL EZ A PUBLIC SPAYKER ... ... 23 EXPAIRYINCES UV ROYALTY ... ... 27 MUCKSY LANE A GOST STORY ... ... 40 NATHAN IN A TURKEY BATH ... ... 50 NATHAN'S PICKTER TJ7KE BE LIGHT ... 59 THA KENTON GOST ... ... ... 69 THA EXTER SAUJERS ... ... ... 76 NOTE AND GLOSSARY . 79 Drlucatton (BY PERMISSION) To His Highness Prince Louis Lucien Bonaparte. IN seeking the honour which your Highness has so readily and courteously conferred upon me, by granting me permission to dedicate to you the following pages, I feel assured that you will better appreciate my object in so doing when I admit that, while entertaining full respect for your exalted rank, a recol- lection of the Prince becomes lost in my admiration of the Linguist. Remembering the many interviews which I have been privileged to have with your Highness, during your study of the Devonshire Dialect, and your extraordinary mastery of its general peculiarities and most difficult idioms, I can well understand how highly you have deserved the honourable mention which has been made of you as a Linguist by the European Press. My testimony to that already so universally given may seem to savour somewhat of egotism : I cannot however imagine that I have committed any great breach of modesty in seeking, as the humble student of one dialect, the appreciation of a perfect master of hundreds. H. BAIRD. SAIR-YISS POAMS. 3anr. June. 2$th, 1865. It was down by the river I first met my pretty Jane, Upon a Zummer evening, when the zin was on the wane. Her little veet they twinkled, as she tripp'd aur meadows bright, And my heart it whisper'd zoftly, " Giles, didst a'er see sich zight." No, nivver in my born days did I zee a girl so vair, She made my heart go pit-pat, and she riz on end my hair, And I ax'd her for to com back, but she couldn't then she said, And on she sped like lightning across the level mead. I heerd the birds a-singing, as I coom'd up droo the lane And I thort they zed, "Giles, Giles, thee shalt have thy purty Jane ! " Ah! 'twas music sweeter far than I'd ever heerd before, It often gied ma comfort, digging pait upon the Moor. 2 SAIR-YISS POAMS One zummer zinday morning, when the bells were ring- ing sweet, I met my love a'coming up old Chagford's plissent street ; I tuk courage theer andrthin, and I up and told my love, And she zaid, " Dear Giles, I'll have ee," and she spauk jest like a dove. But she nivver liv'd to do it, for she pined away and died, Jest on the day she zed she be my bonny little bride ; Now often when I'm walking down in yander meadows bright I zee her right before me like an angel in the light. And I heer her sweet voice zaying " Giles, Giles, be not afraid, Thee shall see, in heavenly places, thy loving little maid ; " Aw ! 'tis that which gies me paice as I walk in vield and lane For if I live a true life I shall zee my Purty Jane. SHja ffiagsg 5Fap tfja rabe. Wat dist thow yer thow litt'l vlow'r, Why zich a spot dist crave? This ez no pleace vur wan like thee A daysy top tha grave ! Aw, no ! shwd be zom murnvul vlow'r, Vrim joyvul luk apart ; A vlow'r of darker hu, way haid Thit drap'th down like ma hart. BE NATHAN HOGG. I can't abide ta zee thee zmile, That zacrid grave abuv ; Uv hur U vrom ma beth till now, Wis aul I luv'd ur luv : Et bear'th ma back to wat beant now, Bit aw ! ta wat ith bin, Then gie mee zom moar murnvul vlow'r. Like \vat I veel wayin. But step ! hur is a Angel now, Moar bright an p#r thin thee ; A light brayk'th in apin mee hart, Thy bwty now I zee; Iss ! litt'l vlow'r I'll iver think, As thow raytur'nst aych yur. Thit thow bee'st zent ta bare ta mee, A zmile uv luv vrim hur. Stajptn (fTfjeel I bant no Vrtther, I wish I w#z, Bit et strik'th ma aul uv a heep Ta zee thic bwtivul pictur thare Thicky zweet litt'l cheel azleep ! I veel I c0n't tullee w#t I veel Ez I vu ez innacint veace, An zim I niver cud bee za zrruzl Thit I cwd a lide in ez pleace. SAIR-YISS POAMS Iss vaih I winder (no winder tu) Et tha change thit wurkith wayin, Wen I think tha mort'l speace thare lyth Tween tha " ez " an tha " hath a bin." Ah ! I winder wat thow deer cheel (za pur Until vorrid thy vutstaps bend) Wen thow, tu travel'th tha raud I've trape'st, U'll bee et thy jurney's end ? Aw, iss ! tiz a mucky raud thow '11 vine, Way hedges uv prickel an thaurn : Thit graw'th moar thicker an zsharper tu, Tha vurder vrim wen y&'m baurn. Deer zlaypin zaul, in tha foce uv luv Thit es now a purtecting thee, I veel thow'm stronger agin tha word'l Zivrel hunderdvole thin mee. Bit arter aul thare be minny rauds Thit laid'th tu our wordly end, Wile zom bee ruff, and zuwant bee zom, An tha tothers be hard ta vend ; Zweet cheel I pray way a aimist hart Thit tha claynist uv rauds thow'll keep Thit thy cus uv lyve may bee jist za smwthe An za cam ez thy hinfint zlayp. BE NATHAN HOGG. ffurs : a Twenty yurs ! wat mort'l changes Hath accur'd in thic thare time ; An, ez back ma spurrit ranges, Zeth, " doant put min inta rime ; " Changes thit, apin rayflecshin Bring'th tha teer drap in mee hye, An cal'th vorrid that avekshin Thit I veel'd in days gaun bye. Now, in vancy, naith tha shadder Uv tha ole hu tree I stan ; An I zee, up Jackib's ladder, Spurrits tn/pin, wan be wan; Spurrits uv tha dayd, long burry'd Vrends ta mee wen bit a cheel, Vwtstap arter vwtstap hurry'd, Auver tha aytarnal hill. An I yer tha buls a chaymin, Vur tha vokes agwayn ta prayer, Bit thay be, thit's aunward straymin, Nat tha wans wen I wiz thare ; No ! jist go an rayd tha ritin, Pin tha stoans yu zee aroun, An yll vine, be tha inditin, Minny zlaypith undergroun. An tha rest, wan pleace ur tother, Be gaun vore ta vight thare way ; Vur wat's vather, zister, moather, Tu our wants vrim day to day ? Aw ! I've thort et ez a pity (Tho' I spose tant vur tha best) Bit our wulvare meade et vitty Wan ta laber way tha rest. SAIR-YISS POAMS No et cant be ! luk ! for ort'l Shaw thee pairtin, change an deth Ez tha veate uv iv'ry mort'l Vrim tha time ha draeth ez breath. An. if mim'ry tu shwd purish Wat wid this pore wurdle be? Ware tha pickturs aul aw's churish Thic in vancy I now zee? Thare's tha skwle ware (macy zave ess?) I vust larn'd ma A B C, " Wen gwd " let out be Jinny Davies Zixty minnits arter dree ; An tha pleaces I've bin mitchin Auver meddar and dr mow, Vur wich I've a got a zwitchin Noan be leff ta zwitch ma now ! Thare's the zulf zame bruk now urning Ware I've tuk auff zock an bat, An ma trowses var up turmn, Gone into tha watter scat ! Auff vur that I've got a drashin, An bin vetch'd way minny sticks, An, vur a clayn apurn splashing, Zent ta bayd zun arter zix. Thare I zee tha vullidge caunder, Ware us child'rn yws'd ta stan, Uv tha pleace no wan wiz vonder, Thin mezul among tha ban ; Thare ez yws'd ta meet and chatter Talk uv ghosts, an uv tha dayd, 'Till horn vast our veet wid clatter, Most aveer'd ta go ta bayd. BE NATHAN HOGG. An among thic raw uv howzes, Wan I zee, I mine en wul, Ware I vust wared coat and trowses, Dress'd za vine, no tung kin tul ; An tha happinses thay gied mer, Wull I d# raymimber how, Then tha gwd ole nayburs vee'd mur, But I've urn'd dr much moar now. Tho, as now, wan ad ez trubble, Bit aich wan wiz then moar zmai, Iv'ry greef aych yer grawth dubble, Till tha vust zim'th nort a tal. Zo et ez wile nayth tha shudder Uv tha ole h tree I stan, Thit mee baytin hart grawth zadder Zadder zince Fm com a man. Twenty yurs ! bit aw less stap et, I've a zeed a dayl zince that, An 'tiz better, murch, ta drap et, Zichlike thorts beant weth a grat ; Aul I naw thay make mur lonely, Noan kin tul now wat I veel, Tho' me thorts wiz cus, I only Naw thay'm wiss thin wen a cheel. SAIR-YISS POAMS STfja Cricket an tfja Btttlf. A cricket ha zot a pin tap a tha aith, An ha hollerd za lowd as ha cud squayl, Wen a gurt black bittle a trapsin aim, Ha tuk an scammil'd pin tap uv ez tayl. Now kiss'n thee zee ware thee bee'st a gwayn r Zed tha crickit, " yu nasty vulty thing ; \u zartinly can't be za mort'l deeve, Bit wat I thit yu must hev a yerd ma zing. Tha bittle ha bust out int a laff Wat I dee cal that zingin ? aw, aw, zeth he t If thee bees't a zinger, no kith uv mine, Be tha black a ma cote shill zongsters be : Tis nort bit a skritch, an wisser nur that, Ef I wis ta kick up zich awful rows I'm zartin tha missus wid vurrit mer owt, An nat allow mer ta bide in tha howze. Zes tha cricket yu hugly himprint twoad, Iv'ry nite tha missus, avaur tha vi-er, Zmile'th auver hur veace as hur yurs ma zing, An lafths as I toon'th up hi-er an hi-er; An as vur tha measter ha zmoak'th ez pipe, An yu may zee be tha twink uv ez eye, Thit vur vury glee as ha puf'th an blaw'th, H'a widdn be happy zept I wur by. Tha bittle ha zed tha cricket wiz spared Cuz ha jump'd away, an zed way skaurn, Thit ez vur ez zul ha wiz lyk'd, a naw'd, Vur a liv'd in tha howze iver zince ha wis baurn ; Bezaides vury auff wen ha vown et cole, Ha'd ha'd stick'd eszul ta tha missus's hoze Hur'd car'd min up stairs, wen auff'n ha'd got An zlayp'd way bothe awmin under tha close. BE NATHAN HOGG. Then wan kintinid ta prayze up eszul, Tha tuther kintinid ta d tha zeame; An thare bothe measter an missus thay zot, As if thay \viz draymin abowt tha vleame. Ta last tha ole humman cort zight uv tha bothe, An tha cricket ha squayl'd out hi-er an hi-er, Wen hur shet out h