Yorkshire Tales Volume II Part 8

Agreed, agreed! they all replied, An here comes little Jack, He's foorced to pa.s.s cloise up this side, We'll do it in a crack.

Poor Jack war rather short, an' coom Just like a suckin duck, He little dream'd at th' sweets o' life Wod iver be his luck;

But daan they shoved him, an' he roll'd Heead first bang into th' mess, An' aat he coom a woeful sight, As yo may easy guess.

They marched him off i' famous glee All stickified an' clammy, Then licked him clean an' sent him hooam To get lick'd by his mammy.

Then th' cartdriver an th' grocer coom Boath in a dreadful flutter, To save some, but they coom too lat, It all wor lost ith gutter:

It towt a lesson to 'em boath Before that job wor ended, To try (at stead o' falling aat) If ought went wrang to mend it.

For wol fowk rave abaat ther loss, Some sharper's sure to pop, An' aat o' ther misfortunes They'll contrive to get a sop.--

To Let.

Aw live in a snug little cot, An' tho' poor, yet aw keep aat o' debt, Cloise by, in a big garden plot, Stands a mansion, 'at long wor to let.

Twelve month sin' or somewhear abaat, A fine lukin' chap donned i' black, Coom an' luk'd at it inside an' aat An' decided this mansion to tak.

Ther wor whiteweshers coom in a drove An' masons, an' joiners, an' sweeps, An' a blacksmith to fit up a cove, An' bricks, stooans an' mortar i' heaps.

Ther wor painters, an' glazzeners too, To mend up each bit ov a braik, An' a lot 'at had nowt else to do, But to help some o'th 'tothers to laik.

Ther wor fires i' ivery range, They niver let th' harston get cooiled, Throo th' celler to th' thack they'd a change, An' iverything all in a mooild.

Th' same chap 'at is th' owner o'th' Hall, Is th' owner o'th' cot whear aw dwell, But if aw ax for th' leeast thing at all; He tells me to do it mysel.

This hall lets for fifty a year, Wol five paand is all 'at aw pay; When th' day come mi rent's allus thear, An' that's a gooid thing in its way,

At th' last all th' repairers had done, An' th' hall wor as cleean as a pin, Aw wor pleased when th' last lot wor gooan, For aw'd getten reight sick o' ther din.

Then th' furniture started to come, Waggon looads on it, all spankin new, Rich crimson an' gold covered some, Wol some shone i' scarlet an' blue.

Ov sofas aw think hauf a scoor, An' picturs enuff for a show?

They fill'd ivery corner awm sure, Throo th' garret to th' kitchen below.

One day when a cab drove to th' gate, Th' new tenant stept aat, an' his wife, An' tawk abaat fas.h.i.+on an state!

Yo ne'er saw sich a spreead i' yor life.

Ther war sarvents to curtsey 'em in, An' aw could'nt help sayin', "bi'th ma.s.s;"

As th' door shut when they'd booath getten in, "A'a its grand to ha' plenty o' bra.s.s."

Ther wor butchers, an' bakers, an' sn.o.bs, An' grocers, an' milkmen, an' snips, All seekin' for orders an' jobs, An' sweetenin th' sarvents wi' tips.

Aw sed to th' milk-chap tother day, "Ha long does ta trust sich fowk, Ike?

Each wick aw'm expected to pay,"

"Fine fowk," he says, "pay when they like."

Things went on like this, day bi day, For somewhear cloise on for a year, Wol aw ne'er thowt o' lukkin' that way; Altho' aw wor livin soa near.

But one neet when awd finished mi wark, An' wor tooastin mi s.h.i.+ns anent th' fire, A chap rushes in aat 'o'th' dark Throo heead to fooit plaistered wi' mire.

Says he, "does ta know whear they've gooan?"

Says aw, "Lad, pray, who does ta meean?"

"Them 'at th' hall," he replied, wi a grooan, "They've bolted an' diddled us cleean."

Aw tell'd him 'aw'd ne'er heeard a word, He cursed as he put on his hat, An' he sed, "well, they've flown like a burd, An' paid nubdy owt, an' that's what."

He left, an' aw crept off to bed, Next day awd a visit throo Ike, But aw shut up his maath when aw sed, "Fine fowk tha knows pay when they like."

Ther's papers ith' winders, "to let,"

An' aw know varry weel ha 't 'll be; They'll do th' same for th' next tenant awl bet, Tho they neer' do a hawpoth for me.

But aw let 'em do just as they pleease, Awm content tho' mi station is low, An' awm thankful sich hard times as thease If aw manage to pay what aw owe.

This precept, friends, niver forget, For a wiser one has not been sed, Be detamined to rise aat o' debt Tho' yo go withaat supper to bed,--'

Fault Finders.

If ther's ony sooart o' fowk aw hate, it's them at's allus lukkin' aght for faults;--hang it up! they get soa used to it, wol they willn't see ony beauties if they are thear. They remind me ov a chap 'at aw knew at wed a woman 'at had a wart at th' end ov her nooas, but it war n.o.bbut a little en, an' shoo wor a varry bonny la.s.s for all that; but when they'd been wed a bit, an' th' newness had getten warn off, he began to fancy at this wart grew bigger ivery day, an' he stared at it, an' studied abaght it, wol when he luk'd at his wife he could see nowt else, an' he kept dinging her up wi'

it wol shoo felt varry mich troubled. But one day, as they wor gettin'

ther dinner, he said, "Nay, la.s.s, aw niver did see sich a thing as that wart o' thy nooas is growing into; if it gooas on tha'll be like a rhynockoroo or a newnicorn or summat!"

"Well," shoo says, "when tha wed me tha wed th' wart an' all, an' if tha doesn't like it tha con lump it."

"Aw've noa need to lump it," he says, "for it's lumpin' itsen or aw'll gie nowt for it."

Soa they went on, throo little to moor, till they'd a regular fratch, an'

as sooin as' he'd getten his dinner, he off to his wark, an' shoo to her mother's. When Jim coom back an' fan th' fire aght, an' noa wife, he felt rayther strange, but he wor detarmined to let her see 'at he could do baat her, soa he gate a bit o' summat to ait an' went to bed. This went on for two-o'-three days, an' he wor as miserable as iver he could be, but o'th'

Setterdy he happened to meet her i'th' shambles, an' they booath stopped an' grinned, for they'd nowt agean one another i'th' bothem.

"Nah, la.s.s," he said, "aw think it's abaat time for thee to come hooam."

"Nay, aw'll come nooan," shoo says, "till aw've getten shut o' this wart."

"Oh, ne'er heed that, la.s.s; it doesn't luk hauf as big as it did, an' if tha wor all wart, aw'd rayther have thi nor be as aw am."

"Soa shoo went back wi' him, an' throo that time to this he's allus luk'd for her beauties asteead ov her faults, an they get on swimmingly. One day shoo axed him if he thowt th' wart wor ony bigger?" "A'a la.s.s," he sed, "thi een are soa breet, aw didn't know tha had one!"

What aw want yo to do is to be charitable, an' if yo find ony faults, think--yo happen may have one or two yorsen. Ther's net monny on us 'at's killed wi sense, but he hasn't th' leeast at's enuff to know he's a fooil.