Yorkshire Tales Volume II Part 11

proceedins. "Bergers and Bergeresses," he began, "aw've a varry unpleasant duty to perform to-neet, which is, namely, to propooas 'at we have a fresh mayor," (Cries ov "Shame," "Gammon," "Th' mayor we have is ommost allus fres.h.!.+" (etsetra, etsetra etsetra.) "Gentlemen,"

he began agean, "what aw have to say is this,"--

"Luk sharp an get it said, then," said Stander, th' grocer.

"If tha doesn't hold thy noise, Stander, tha'll get noa moor snuff off me, aw con tell thi that; aw mayn't be as flaary a talker as thee, but what aw say is to'th' point, an' aw think 'at a const.i.tuency like Booith-Taan owt to be represented by somebody ov standin'."

"Better send th' chearman, he's stud den long enuft," said one.

"Prathi sit thi daan, if tha connot talk sense,"

said another.

"Its's time for sombdy to stand summat, for all th' pints is empty,"

said th' lanlord.

"Well, gentlemen," went on th' chearman, "th' question just dissolves itsel' into this: Who has it to be? Has it to be a Doctor sombdy, or a Professor sombdy, or a Squire sombdy, or has it to be a plain Maister?"

"Oh I let it be a Squire," said one. "E'ea, Squire Broadbent ul do,"

said another.

"Nah, lads, yo' 'Ie heeard th' chearman's resolushun, an' aw sit daan to call upon Mr. Stander, Esquire, grocer, to address yo."

Th' chearman doubled hissel' into th' shape ov his chear, an' after they'd gein ovver pawsin' th' table legs, an' knockin' pint pots, Stander gate up an' began.

"Fellow Munic.i.p.allers (hear, hear), aw agree wi' what awr chearman says, 'at we owt to have sombdy o' standin' i' society to represent us for this subsequent year 'at's forthcomin'."

"Tha happen want's to get one o' thi own relations in," said Snittle.

"It ud seem thee better to keep thi maath shut, Snittle, till tha's paid me for yond Garman Yeast."--(Shame, shame.)

"Gentlemen, aw propooas 'at this meetin' dissolves itsel' into a depitation to visit Professor Holloway, to ax him if he'll represent us for th' next year. Aw dooant know him mysen, but we've all heeard tell on him, an' we've seen his pills an' ointment advertised, an' aw think he'd be a varry likely man to work awr business to th' best interest ov the whole communicants; an' noa daat he'd be able to heal up ony bits o' unpleasantness 'at's been caused wi' this election. Aw believe him to be a varry pus.h.i.+n' man, an' one ov a spyring natur; for as Elijah Barrett says (i' his book on leeanin' to blacksmith), 'One inch the heighest,' seems to be the motto he works on, for goa where yo will yo'll allus see one o' his bills a bit heigher nor onybody's else, an for that reason aw beg to propooas 'at he should be acceptted as a fit an' proper person.

The chearman stood up an' axed "ony chap to I say owt agean that 'at dar." Up jumped Billy Bartle, an' said, "Aw object to that in total; aw see noa reason to goa to Lunnon to find a mayor, soa long as we've professors at hooam, an aw propoosas 'at we ax--" ("Shut up!

shut up!" "Ta' hold, an' sup." "Gooid lad, Billy,") etsetra, etsetra. etsetra.

Just then th' lanlord coom in an' turn'd off th' gas, for he said "they hadn't spent aboon eighteen pence all th' neet."

Th' chearman said he thowt they couldn't do better nor all have a pinch o' snuff wi' him, an' have a pint i'th' kitchen woll they talked things ovver; soa they went daan th' stairs, an' somha they managed to re-elect th' owd en afoor they went hooam, an' six on em hugged him o'

ther heeads to th' top o' Ringby, an' niver heed if ther heeads didn't wark th' next mornin'.

Election.

Candidates at an election allus reminds me ov a lot o' bees turned aat, for they fly abaat th' country buzzin' an' hummin', wol yor fair capt what a din they con mak; but as sooin as they pop into th' hive o' St. Stephen's yo niver hear a m.u.f.f--they're as quite as waxwark.

Aw varrily believe 'at one hauf on 'em niver oppen the maath throo th'

yaar end to year end, n.o.bbut when they're sleepy, then they may gape a bit, but they do it as quiet as they can. As for them chaps 'at tawk soa mich befoor they goa, abaat pa.s.sin' laws to give iverybody a paand a wick whether they work or laik, an' reducin' th' workin haars to three haars a day an' three days a wick: Why, its just gammon!

None think Alike.

What suits one body doesn't suit another. Aw niver knew two fowk 'at allus thowt alike; an' if yo iver heard a poor chap talkin' abaat somebdy 'ats weel off, he's sure to say 'at if he'd his bra.s.s he'd do different throo what they do.

Aw once heeard a chap say 'at if he'd as mich bra.s.s as Baron Rothschild he'd niver do owt but ait beef-steaks an' ride i' cabs.

Well, lad, aw thowt, it's better tha hasn't it. We're all varry apt to find fault wi' things at we know varry little abaat, an' happen if we knew mooar we shud say less. Aw once heeard two la.s.ses talkin', an' one on 'em war tellin' tother 'at sin shoo saw her befoor, shoo'd getten wed, an' had a child, an' buried it. "Why, whativer shall aw live to hear? Aw didn't know 'at tha'd begun coortin'. Whoiver has ta getten wed to?" "Oh, awve getten wed to a forriner, at comes throo Staffordshur."

"Well, aw hooap, tha's done weel, la.s.s; awm sure aw do. And what does he do for a livin'?" "Why, its rayther a queer trade; but he stails pots." "Stails pots, Betty! A'a aw wonder ha tha could bring thisen daan to wed a chap o' that sooart. Aw'll keep single for iver, woll awm green maald, afoor aw'll wed ony chap unless he gets his livin'

honestly." "Aw should like to meet ony body 'at says he doesn't get his livin' honestly," says Betty; "nah thee mark that." "Well, Betty, that maks noa difference to me; but aw say agean 'at noa chap gets his livin' honestly 'at stails--noa matter whether he stails pots or parkins." "Why, Nancy, aw thowt tha'd moor sense, aw did for sure;-- aw mean, his trade is to put stails on to pots." "Oh! A'a! E'e! tha mun forgi' mi this time, Betty, aw see what tha meeans; he puts hanels on to pots: that's it, isn't it." "E'ea." "Why, tha sees, aw didn't understond." "Ther's monny a one has a deeal to say abaat things 'at they dunnot understond, an' monny a one gets awfully put aat wi' what sich like do say; but it isn't advisable to be soa varry touchus at this day, an' as aw've read somwhear--

Time to me this truth has towt, 'Tis a truth 'at's worth revealin'; Moor offend for want o' thowt Nor for any want o' feelin'.

An' aw believe that's true; but at th' same time it's as weel to be careful net to offend onybody if we con help it, for a chap's fingers luk a deeal nicer, an' moor agreeabler, when they're oppened aat to shake hands wi yo, nor what they do when doubled up i'th' front o' yor nooas. Soa yo see, yo connot be to careful o' yor words an' deeds, if yo want to keep straight wi' fowk; an' it's a wise thing to be at peeace. And if this is a unsettled time o' th' year, that's noa reason 'at yo should be unsettled. But as it isn't iverybody's lot to know ha to get on smoothly, aw'll just give yo a bit o' advice; an' if yo learn that, an' act on it, yo'll niver rue th' bra.s.s yo've spent, especially if yo tak into consideration at th' profits are devoted to a charitable inst.i.tution (that's awr haase).

If wisdom's ways you'd wisely seek, Five things observe with care; Of whom you speak, to whom you speak, And how, and when, and where.

Seaside.

Iverybody 'at is owt is awther just settin' off or just gettin' back throo th' spaws. Ther's nowt like th' sea breeze! But a chum o' mine says th' sea breeze is a fooil to Saltaire, but he cannot mak me believe it. Ther's nowt ever suits me as weel at Blackpool as to see a lot o' cheap trippers 'at's just com'd for a day--they mean to enjoy thersen. Yo can see that as sooin as iver th' train claps 'em daan, away they steer to have a luk at th' watter. Ther's th' fayther comes th' furst, wi' th' youngest child in his arms, an' one or two rayther bigger poolin' 'at his coit laps, an' just behund is his owd la.s.s, puffin' and blowin' like a steam engine, her face as red as a rising sun, an' a basket ov her arm big enuff for a oyster hawker. At one corner on it yo con see a black bottle neck peepin' aat. At th' side on her walks th' owdest la.s.s; an' isn't shoo doin' it grand for owt shoo knows! Luk what fine ribbons shoo has flyin' daan her back, an' a bra.s.s ring ov her finger, varry near big enuff to mak a dog's collar on, an' a cotton parasol 'at luks ivery bit as weel as a silk 'un; and yo con see as shoo tosses her heead first to one side an then to tother, 'at shoo defies awther yo or onybody else to tell 'at shoo's n.o.bbut a calico wayver when shoo's at hooam. But they get aside o'th'

watter at last. "Ha! what a wopper!" says one o'th' lads, as a wave comes rollin' ovver. "A'a! but that's a gurter!" says another. Then th' father an' th' mother puts th' young uns all in a row, an' tell 'em all to luk at th' sea--as if ther wor owt else to luk at i'

Blackpool. But yo may see at th' owd la.s.s isn't comfortable, for shoo keeps peepin' into her basket, an' at last shoo says, "Joa--aw believe sombdy's had ther fooit i'th' basket, for th' pasty's brusscn, an th'

pot wi' th' mustard in is brockken all to bits." "Neer heed, if that's all, its noa war for being mix'd a bit; it's all to goa into one shop." As sooin as owt to ait is mentioned, th' childer's hungry in a minit-even th' la.s.s' at's been peraidin' abaat an' couldn't fas.h.i.+on to stand aside ov her brothers an' sisters coss they wor soa short o'

manners--draws a bit nearer th' mother's elbow. Daan they sit like a owd hen an' her chickens, an' dooant they put it aat o'th' seet? It means nowt if th' mustard an' th' pickled onions have getten on th'

apple pasty or potted mait an' presarved tairts squeezed all into one--they're noan nasty nice; an' then th' bottle's pa.s.sed raand: cold tea flavored wi rum, an sweetened, wol th' childer can hardly leave lawse when they've once getten hold. An' wol they're enjoyin' thersen this way, th' owd chap's blowin' his bacca, an' tak's a pool ivery nah and then at a little bottle, abaat th' size ov a prayer book, 'at he hugs in his side pocket. After this they mun have a sail i' one o'th'

booats, an' in they get, tumellin' one over t'other, an' bargain wi'

th' chap for a _gooid_ haar. Th' owd chap pools his watch aat an mak's sure o'th' time when they start, an' away they goa like a burd.

"Isn't it grand?" says furst one an' then another. But in a bit th'

owd chap puts his pipe aat an' tak's another pool at th' little bottle, an' his wife's face grows a deeal leeter coloured, an' shoo axes him ha' long they've to goa yet? Aat comes th' watch, an'

they're capt to find 'at they've n.o.bbut been fifteen minutes, an' th'

owdest la.s.s lains ovver th' side, an' after coughin' a time or two begins to feed th' fish, an' th' little uns come to lig ther heeads o'

ther mother's knees, but shoo tells 'em to sit o'th' seeat, for shoo connot bide to be bothered; then shoo tak's a fancy to luk ovver th'

edge, an' ther's another meal for th' fish. Th' owd chap's detarmined to stand it aat, soa he shuts his e'en, an screws up his maath wol it's hardly as big as a thripny bit--then his watch comes aat agean, an' he sighs to find they've n.o.bbut been one hauf ther time. Th' chaps i'th' boat see ha' matters stand, an' bring' em back as sooin as they con. Aat they get, an' th' bra.s.s is paid withaat a word; but th' owd woman shakes her heead an' says, "Niver noa moor! It's a dear doo!

Sixpence a piece, an' all th' potted mait an' th' apple pasty wasted."