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February 20, 1875. Illustrated Sporting News, Joe Wilson, Obit

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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  UNDER CONSTRUCTION
 
 
 

GEORDEY'S FOND 0' RUM!

 

QUEER CUSTOMS

 

 FORST FUTTIN!  MAW CANNY AUD FRINDS


 THE MAN WI' THE BROON TOP·COAT!

 COAL DUST. TOMMY WILLIAMSON'S BOTTLE.  A LETTER FRAE THE HIGH LEVEL BRIDGE.  SPORTIN NEWS. BOB CHAMBERS.
 
BILLY SHYFELLA'S LUV STORY.

JOE AND TOM "WILSON, TWIN BROTHERS

LYIN BAD l' BED!
HOO CHARLEY PRINCE SHOT THE BULL.  MISTRISS FOSTER'S DESCRIPTION ov A BOAT RACE.
 MARY ANNE'S. LETTER TE ME.  SUPERSTISHUS SALLY
 WOR GEORDEY'S LETTER TE ME. DEARSOR,  CUM HERE AN' AW'LL PICK YE UP! "CUM
 NEW YEAR WISHES.
 ACROSTIC EMERY
 ACROSTIC ALLAN
 VOTE BE BALLOT SECRECY.  ACROSTIC SESSFORD  ACROSTIC THANKS
         
         
         
         

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GEORDEY'S FOND 0' RUM!

 

TEUN·-"Mally Dunn."

 

"WOR Geordey wes a canny man,

A canny man te me;

Me life weslike a happy dream,"

 In grief, says Nan McGee.

"Aw blist the day that we got wed,

Such happiness had cum;

But now aw cannet praised ne mair

For Geordey's fond 0' rum !

 

Korus

 

"Them happy days is passed away,

Aw doot they'll ne mar cum;

Aw hope they may; but hoo can they,

When Geordey's fond 0' rum?

 

"His gud lucks won me willin heart,

His smile wes honey's sel ;

But oh, his tung had mair effect

Then awheh wordste tell

But noo his bonny fyece is changed,

Its culler's noo becum

A dirty, half-weshed kind 0' reed,

Throo drinkin se much rum !

 

"Insteed 0' talkin kind te me,

Whenivor he cums in,

He staggers tiv his aud airrn-chair,

Then argyin he'l! begin.

He thinks the room chock full 0' foaks,

Aw stand quite mute an' dumb;

He calls for' Order!' talks away,

Then shoots for sum mair rum!

 

"Aw've seen him fightin wi' the chair

Becawse it waddent speak;

He'd say aw knew ne greet M.P.'s,

Me knollidge wes se weak.

Politicks aw knew nowt aboot,

As chairman aw wes numb;

He teuk us for sum chep he knew,

Throo gettin se much rum.

 

"He'll jump oat ov his bed at neets,

An' sweer he sees a ghost;

An' mony a time he'll lector

Te the [ower-pole bed-post.

Next mornin, when he wakens up,

Doon stairs he'll wretched cum,

Sayin, 'Nan, aw've been a feullast neet,

Throo gettin se much rum !'

 

"He'll haud his heed as if 'twad burst,

Aw myek him a sup tea,

An' try te cheer him wi' me words;

But still it winnet de.

For oh, aw luv me husband weel,

An' hope the day 'ill cum,

When we'll be happy as before

He ivor tyested rum! "

 

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

 

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890


 
 
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QUEER CUSTOMS

 

TEUN- "The Firery Clock-Fyece."

 

WHENwar Peg's audest bairn wes born,

They sent for me, se merry,

An' begged that aw wad tyek me torn

Te drink its hilth i' sherry;

Or if aw'd hey a glass

0' rum Or whiskey, they wad send for sum.

Aw seun got tight as ony drum

Amang the hurry-skurry.

 

Korus

 

In joy or grief, it's maw belief,

It's a custom queer, aw's think in ;

They say it gies them greet relief

A fine excuse for drinkin !

 

They sent for me te gan alang

An' tyek tea at the christnin ;

They gov us sumthin far mair strang,

That set me eyes a-glistnin,

We sung an' danced frae morn till neet,

An' carried on like foaks not reet ;

It cuddent be owt like a treat

Tiv anybody listnin.

 

But efter that the poor bairn deed,

An' cawsed anuther fuddle;

We sobbed an' sighed, an' hung wor heeds,

Wi' brains all in a muddle.

The drink wes here mixed up wi' grief:

We thowt the spirits browt relief;

An' one aud wife, i' that belief,

The bottle she wad cuddle.

 

This shows, frae creddle te the grave,

The bottle's a hard maistor :

It myeks se mony foaks its slave,

An' proves a reglor waistor.

Such customs, i' the times like these,

Frae care they cannet bring release,

But quarrels cawse, an' myek wi' ease

Heeds fit for stickin-plaistor.

 

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890


 
 
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FORST FUTTIN!

 

TEUN- "Row upon the Stairs,"

 

LIKE uther chaps wi' little sense,

Aw join'd them iv a spree,

One New Eer's morn, wi' bottles full,

A grand forst-fut te be;

We sung as we went throo the streets,

Wi' voices owt but clear,

An' wish'd myest ivry one we met

A happy, happy eer!

 

Korus

 

Aw wish ye a happy new eer!

Aw wish ye a happy new eer!

Aw can de the syem Far better at hyem,

Withoot ony spirits or beer!

 

'Twas nowt but dissipation frae

The forst hoose we got in ;

Glass eftor glass a' roond wad pass

'Mid such an awful din:

For ivrybody spoke at once,

An' when we tried to sing,

'Twes whe wad myek the biggest noise,

Te myek the whole hoose ring.

 

Te spoil the sport, we a' got tight,

An' talk wes nivvor deun ;

Such shakin hands; what clivor frinds

We war, till fights begun.

Then blackened eyes an' broken heeds

I' dayleet did appear,

Te show hoo we injoyed wor-sels,

Beginnin the new eer.

 

Wi' shakey steps we staggered hyem,

An' on the road we saw

Such seets, that showed us ne such sprees

Wes better for us a'.

Wi' akin heeds we got te bed,

An' there lay a' the day;

Aw wished next eer wad nivvor cum,

If it com in that way.

 

Since then aw've been teetotal, an'

Aw noo knaw which is best;

Aw wish me frinds the best 0' luck,

An' then aw gan te rest.

An' while aw'm spared aw'll de the syem,

0' that thor is ne fear;

A sober life brings happy days

A' throo the happy eer,

 

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890


UNDER CONSTRUCTION


 
 READINGS
STORIES
COAL DUST

READINGS.

MAW CANNY AUD FRINDS

yeth wor Geordeyan' Peg, an'sum mates 0' mine that aw's wee! ackwented with, says aw heh te gie ye a Preffiss te the Budjit; for they think that nowt aw ivor did teuk better then the Drolleries aw browt afore yor notis se mony eers since. So aw owt te rite a Preffiss ! But bliss us a', hoo can ye did iv a weshin-day? If aw had knawn it wes Thorsday aw wad gyen oat, but aw thowt te me-sel, aw wes just iv a humour te get the steam up, an' aw nivvor knaws till the hoose is full on't, an' as many wet c!aes knockin aboot as wad frighten a decent-sized weshorwife an' two or three fat dowters. What wi' possin an'scrubbin, an' a Tallian Orgin at the front, an' a chep lairnin the Trambone next door, aw's fairly bother'd where te start, or what aw've been ritin aboot; but aw hope it's a' reet,-aw divvent like te gan back for fear aw forget where aw is noo. So all aw can say is: aw hope this Budjit 'ill be just as successful as ony aw've publish'd afore. An' if we fall Dot aboot it, aw hope we'll agree byeth afore an' eftor't, So just beg me pardin, an' aw'll be the last one i' the world te forgie ye withoot provickayshun, Wor Hoose, Oct. 1870.

THE West End Park's one 0' the bonniest places i' the North te spend' an efterneun. It's se plissint, wi' such bonny scenery; it's like a flooer show ivry day. Admission free on the payment ov one penny per each. This is not an advertisement, but the proprietors 0' the park's at liberty te myek a prissint te thor humble sarvint, They can get his address if they write te wor hoose.


THE MAN WI' THE BROON TOP·COAT!

" IF thor's a man wiv a broon top-coat on calls, say aw's not in, Joe!" Them wes the varry words me maistor said te me one mornin aboot ten o'clock. Me maistor wes one 0' them sort 0' cheps that cud spend money a lang way faster then he cud myek't, an' as lang as he had it iv his hands he diddent care aboot pairtin wid te them that mebbies had mair reet tid nor him. In fact, he wes one 0' them cheps that wad tyek all, an' nivvor dream 0' payin owt if his creditors wad put up wid. Still he had a gud nyem amang his toon ackwentinces,but bliss ye l whe hessent ?-if they gan aboot treatin ivrybody. Thor's sum men 'ill myek ye beIeeve yor sumbody else if ye'll only gie them a gill 0' beer. So aw wassent astonish'd that mornin when me maister telI'd us te say he wassent in if a chep call'd wiva broon top-coat on. Besides, aw knew thor wes a traveller (drest that varry way) had arrived i' the toon the day before, an' the gov'nor expected him,-tho he diddent want te see him, mind ye l So aw says, "A' reet, sor;" an' aw went on wi' me wark, hopin nebody wad cum, for aw wassent used wi' tellin a lee then, tho aw've had a bit practice since, So aw sets me-sel agyen the window, .as aw might see onybody that com doon the yard. Aw wad be there aboot half-an-cor when aw sees a tall, gud-Iuckin fellow, wiva broon top-coat on, torn inte the entry an' myek rewards the shop. " Here he is, maistor l" aw says; an' ye nivvor saw owt like the scene that follow'd. Thor wes ne chance 0' getting away withoot bein seen, so me unfortunit imployer scram mils intiv a greet big cuppord there wes i' the room. But cuppords wes nivvor myed te haud men, or they wad had ne shelves in, so me noble gov'nor had te dubbil hi'sel up at the bottom, i' the kumpney ov a poke 0' coals we had got in the syem week. So aw locks the door, an' puts the key i' me pocket, an' myeks me-sel as cumfortable as aw cud under the sorkumstances. " Is yor maistor in ?" says the man wi' the bra on top-coat, as he open'd the door an' teuk a seat, as if he had been there afore-quite at hyem like. "No!" aw says, an) aw felt a'the blood i"me body rush te me fyece, eneuff te myek the man beleeve aw wes tellin a lee, if he had teun ony notison us. But no, he sat at his ease, Iuckin as if he had cum te Ieeve there, as happy as possible.

"Hoo lang will he be?" says he, as he drew a fob oot ov his pocket, an' started te fill his pipe, luckin roond for matches. "Aw cannet say for a noor or two!" says aw, an' aw thowt that wad frighten him. But no, there he sat, puffin away, an' watchin me at me wark, as if it wes a novelty te him. "Oh," says he, "aw'm i' ne hurry; aw'm not tied for time, so aw think aw'II wait! " Thor wes a crash i' the cuppord, as if thor wes sumthing rang, an' the man an' me luckt roond at the door, as if we expected it wad open. " What's that? " he says, kind astonish'd. "Rats! " aw says; "wor awfully troubled wi' rats here! " an' aw felt as ifhe knew aw wes teIIin a whapper. " Thor big uns, te myek a noise like that!" he said, as he sat doon agyen, puffin away,-an' there he sat for a full oor, tawkin tiv us aboot owt that com intiv his heed. But ivry noo an' then thor wes a stir i' the cuppord eneuff te let us knaw thor wes sumthin there alive, an' the man i' the broon top-coat appear'd te think se. H Aw've cum frae Barry-Edge this mornin," says he, "te pay yor maistor sum muney that aw've been awn him this three munths; aw wad com afore if aw haddent been se bizzy, but it cannet be help't,-aw warn'd it 'ill just be as ackseptabil noo !" Just imadgin me feelins when he said this. But what wes mine te what me maistor's wad been? Here wes a man cum te pay muney, i'steed 0' cravin for ony, an' the broon top-coat wes a' the cawse 0' the fix we war in. « Ye can tell yor maistor aw call'd, an' aw wad liked te heh seen him, as it's hard te tell when aw'll be i' the toon agyen !" says he. "Ye'll mebbies meet him," says aw, an' aw thowt thor wes a chance, as the back door struck us. " Gud-day !" says he. "Gud-day!" says aw, an' me heart lowpt te me mooth when aw saw him gannin up the yard. "Let's oot ! let's oot, Joe!" groans a voice i' the cuppord , as if sumbody wes suffrin frae the teuth-ake, "A' reet, sor," says aw, missin the key-hole an' puttin the key i' the rang way i' me hurry, At last the pris'nor wes .free, wiv a fyece ye wad swore had been up the chimley, an' dubbled up as if he had been born that way.

Oat at the back door like a shot, an' inte the street, afore aw cud say nowt! Up aw runs te the heed o'the yard, te see the finish on't,An' there aw sees me maistor meet the man wi' the broon topcoat, shake hands wiv him se hearty, an' tyek him intiv a publichoose, Aw saw him ne mair that day! Aboot an noor efter that anuther chep calls wiv a broon top-coat on,-but it wes ne gud, me maistor wes oot this time for fairs!

COAL DUST.

SUM lanlords may be reckond liberal fellows when thor oat 0' thor awn hoose, but ye'Il often find them just as mean inside. Thor's sum that wad grummil at fiIIin ye half-a-glass ov owt. "We fill nowtbut glasses here!" they say; an' ye heh te pay for a whole one whether ye can afford it or not; besides, it's varry like compulsory intoxication, an' mony a poor fellow's kickt oat when he shows any signs on't. Teetotalers nivvor want ye te drink when yor not dry, an' it's the hight 0' nonsense at ony time te de se; but it's dafter agyen te drink stuff te myek ye dry, an' then drink mair on't te slacken yor thirst.

IF a chep burns his finger, ye'Il a' understand, It'll not myek't ne better te burn the whole hand.

JACK MARTIN,
 a Tyneside keelman, wes once i' one 0' the Lunden theatres, an' he fell i' luv wiv a canny luckin lass that wes sittin next tiv him. " It's varry het here!" he said, tryin te myek he-sel agreeable, an' speakin iv his awn pure an' beautiful dialect. " Ay !" said the lass, luckin quite astonished, "It's varry het here!" repeated Jack, smilin all ower his fyece. "Really, sir, I don't understand you 1" replied the fasinaytin female Cockney. "Ye divvent understand us!" said Jack, openin his eyes. " Whey, it's that het the swet's rowlin a' doon me shoolders, an' aw's varry nigh scumfished !"

TOMMY WILLIAMSON'S BOTTLE.

Chapter the Forst. SARAHwes glad te hear o' Tommy's luck. It wes the forst lottery he had ivor been in iv his life, an' he got It Bottle! A Bottle 0' Rum! ! ! His varry fancy, tee; for he'd rethur hev one glass 0'·rum then two 0' whiskey at ony time. He did like rum, an' so did Sarah-his canny aud Sarah2-the wife ov his bosom for thirty eers-canny aud Sarah! An' diddent she like rum? Aw shud think se! Just let her an' Tommy start ony time tegither, an' Tommy wad seen two Sarahs when she wes as sober as a judge. She cud stand it. So they war byeth varry glad when he wun such a prize, for they cuddent afford te buy one, an' it wes New Eer's time. Next mornin they expected thor forst-Jut, an' it wes lucky 0' Tommy, " Se varry lucky," Sarah said; an' so did Tommy,-they war pleased. But what a damper it was upon the poor aud fellow's happiness when the foreman called an' tell'd him he wad heh te work that neet. Gan te wark on New Eer's .Eve ! What a shem! But hoo cud he help't? He mun did; 'twes a gud job he had, an' he cuddent loss't. So off he went, promisin te be hyem the next mornin as seun as possible, an' left Sarah the monork ova' she cud see. Two oors passed away, an' bang went the Time-Gun, as if it wed ihift the High Level Bridge te the Meadows Hoose. It wes next eer ! ! ! Chapter the Second. The neybor next door wes a real canny chep I-one 0' them real canny cheps that'ill agree wi' onything ye say, as lang as thor's t~ree.happorth i' the road, an' aivvor fall oot wi' ye if thor's only the chance ov a smell. Noo, this real canny chep thowt the best thing he cud de wes Ie keep Sarah kumpney till Tommy com hyem. So in he went, an' wished her a' the happy returns 0' the seasin, an' mony 0' them, an' a' the gud things imadginable. Sarah wes quite delited with the forst-fut, tho she diddent fancy him cummin in empy-handed, It wassent lucky! It wassent reet, iv a New Eer's mornin, 'at ony rate. But as he had com, he wad

heh te stop, an' she'd myek the best ov a bad bargain. So the bottle wes browt oot,-an' 'the reel canny chep kept Sarah up i' tawk that weeI she seun forgot the ne-bottle business i' the injoymint ov her awn. But bottles 0' rum 'ill not last for ivor, supposin ye heh a' the reel canny cheps i' the world te tawk te ye. An' afore half-an-cor wes ower half 0' the rum was! Noo, here wes a fix, ye wad think,-for Tommy had tell'd her he wad bring two or three ov his shopmates wiv him te hey a glass an' a sang tegither. An' te myek things warse, thor wes a knock at the door noo. But afore it wes open'd, Sarah-s-wiv a prisence 0' mind that's worthy 0' greet admirayshun-fiII'd the bottle up wi' the syem kind 0' liquid that's see often used wi' byeth lanlords an' coo-keepersAdam's wine! Chapter the Thord. The door wes open'd ! An' Tommy, wiv his aud-fashin'd, happy-like fyece cuvor'd wi' any amoont 0' smiles, introduced his frinds, wishin ivrybody a happy New Eer! "Gie them a glass 0' rum a-piece, Sarah," says Tommy, an' he nivvor luckt as prood iv his life as when he said se. poor Tommy! Sarah, wishin them ivry kompliment, poor'd oot the mixtor, that luckt mair like pale brandy or shorry wine then the real Jimickor, an' handed it roond i' that hyemly manner that myeks {oaks feel kumfortable. " That's queer stuff!" says one, settin doon his glass an' luckin at it as if he wassent sure where he was. "Where did ye get it?" says anuther, an' he lucks at Tommy as ifhe wes poisin'd. "Whey, d'm me, it's wet/or!" says the ruther, spittin oat as if he had been tyekin salts. " Ay, ye may weeI tawk !" says Sarah, wiv a luck at Tommy, as if she wad eatin him. "Tawk te him there: he owt te think shem ov he'sel, gawn an' buyin the cheapest rubbish he cud get, an' he waddent tyek maw advice, the poor mean-spirited thing; aw divvent knaw where aw got such a man!" Poor Tommy! Aw'I1 say ne mair.

A LETTER FRAE THE HIGH LEVEL BRIDGE.

DEER JOE,

Ye heh ne idea hoo much aw'll be obliged te ye if ye'll contridict the riport that sum 0' me enemies's set aboot aboot me. They actwilly heh the impittince te say that the Reedheugh Bridge is a yung bruther 0' mine; but divvent ye beleev'd, maw hinny. It may be the skeliton ov an aud un, but that's a', for thor's nivvor been a bruther 0' mine born as skinny as him afore he got lang cIaes on. Aw had a bit rlspect for the aud fellow that stud aside us se lang, an' aw wes varry sorry te loss such a canny aud frind, but whativor thor dein te myek him a substitute aw cannet tell. They've been botherin on !ang eneuff te heh got a breed 0' me be this time. Nivvor mind. Whey, the warst wish aw heh them is-that they'll fill thor places as wee! as he did. An' if they can beer the wite aw've seen an' felt i' maw day-espeshly at boat races-aw'Il say thor gud stayers, an' c•.n stand handycappin. As an aud Tynesider (the audest noo), aw wad like te see ivry one de weel, an' me.sel just as wee! as anybody else. Ye'll mebbies say that aw's weel paid for; that's reet eneuff, but we need sum profit for a gud artickil. Gie me kind Iuv te all inquirin frinds, an' oblige Yors, till deeth,

THE HIGH LEVEL BRIDGE.

Frank Carr sends his rispects te yor UnkiI, an' the syem te yor frind the Pawnbroker.

SPORTIN NEWS.

THE RING. Mally Snuffynose's nearly lost heart 0' gettin one.

THE TURF Lucks varry weel when it's green, but green uns shud heh nowt te de wid.

FUT·RACIN'S A' reet if ye knaw whe hes te win the handicap, but if yor not i' the secret ye knaw nowt aboot it, If ye ask the handicapper he's sure te gie ye the tip, but the rang un, mind ye I 29


BOB CHAMBERS.

A DREAM AN' A REALITY.

"Fareweel te the world's finest Ohampein, An' defeated be deeth tho yebe, It cannet tyek yefrae wor hearts, lad, An' yor form lang i' mem'rywe'll see." LYIN asleep, an' not 'asleep! Dreamin, an' not asleep! War ye ivor that way, sor? I' that dreamy sort ov a trance that sumtimes we can se weel enjoy, whenplissint thowts creep throo the sIumberin mind an' myek ye wish ye waddent waken, for all ye knaw yor not asleep. Aw've been that way, sor, monya time, an' thowt 0' times an' foaks that's gyen; an', man, aw've really porsway ded me-sel they war at me side agyen i' that half-sleep, an' aw've been se disappointed at me dream aw've wish'd that aw haddent waken'd quite se seun. The tuther neet, i' bed an' i' this mood, me thowts flew back te eers gyen by,-an' whe de ye think aw thowt on forst? Whey, poor Bob Chambers! Wor canny frind, wor greetest Champein, Bob, poor Honest Bob! A man! iv ivry sense a real gud man I Aw thowt time teuk us back te fifty-nine, the eer that Chambers gain'd such gallint vict'ries. Aw thowt 'twes Vepril,-an' as fine a neet as we cud wish for,myed thoosinds flock a' roond the banks 0' Tyne to see the contest. An' whe between? Tom White an' Bob Chambers. Aw mind hoo Chambers, when he wnn his side, held up his hand and cried, " Lads, it's all ower! " An' hoo he lafft as he pull'd past the boats that held his backers. But seun a change that stopt the anxshus breeth ova' his frinds myed thoosinds greet for Bob. For scairseley had they pull'd a half-a-mile, when White bor'd Chambers reet intiv a keel, an' there he fix'd him. Then away the Cockney went abuva hundrid yards afore brave Bob cud better his condishun, But when he did"Gan on, maw canny Bob!" His boat wes like a dart, a fish, a bird. an' seun it flew alang as swift as ivor. Away they went, the Cockney leadin still a hundrid yards, just like a winner. An' ivrybody thowt him sure te be the victor.

Except Bob Chambers. An' Bob, the honest, manly, game an' true, had nivvor thowt se, -for wi' fresh vigour iv his greet lang stroke he foIlow'd bravely, an' then foaks saw the lion-heart 0' Bob, the Tyneside Champein. What White mun thowt aw nivvor yit cud tell, when he saw Bob gamm. Gainin at ivry stroke. At last thor level, amang such a scene as nivvor yit wes witness'd, an' nivvor will agyen 1 But thor's a foul. " Let's start agyen," says Chambers; "let's away-aw only want. a race that's strite an' fair! " Then off he went, an' nobly wun the day, that day se famous.
This wes me dream, an', man, aw liked the dream that faithfully portray'd what aw had seen i' fifty-nine.

Aw wish we'd mair like Chambers on the Coaly Tyne.

WANTED, for a workin-man, a hoose ov two or. three rooms, at a reasonable rent. He hes a wife an' three bairns, an' 'ill guarantee they'll heh ne mair. If the lanlord's character's suitable, he can hev a gud tenant. The lanlady can heh the weshin an' cleanin on application, as the late weshorwife's ron away wiv a sowljor. Ne cats.

NE FRINDSHIP I' DRINK.-Charley Smith had a lot 0' companions, an' they a' myed a vast on him. He wes varry fond ov his drop wes Charley, an' always had a gud supply 0' whiskey i' the hoose. What a lot ov his mates used te call an' see him on the Sunday mornins! The hoose wes full; an' they did smack thor lips efter the doses he goh them. But Charley fund the drink wes dein him harm, so he torned teetotal. Ye nivvor saw such a change it yor life. He had ne mates noo; as seun as the whiskey wes deun, they a' vanished. An' noo Charley fund that his best frinds wes themate ov his bosom an' his awn family.

Drink may hearten ye up, myek ye laff, chaff, an' wink, But thor issent a bit 0' true frindship i' drink.


BILLY SHYFELLA'S LUV STORY.

" They tell'd us te forget her,
'Twes easier said then deun :
For if ye'vethowt owt ova lass,
Ye'l! not forget her seuu."

SHE wes the bonniest lass aw ivor saw-aw mean the lass aw fell i' Iuv with. If aw wes writin a' the hard words i'the Reedimmyedeasy, aw cuddent myek ye believe what she wes like withoot ye saw her, an' seein's deceivin! She had one 0' them bonny-Iuckin fyeces an' reed rosy cheeks that ye'U nivvor forget if yor owl like me; an' her form wes fit for the finest chair thit wes nivvor paid for J She wes a pictor! an' mony a time aw've wished aw had her framed; an' tho she's myed maw poor frame ake wi' nowt but Iuv, that Iuv'iIl stick like glue te the pictor that's always i' me heart an' mind. Aw's tawkin sad noo, an' so aw is. Aw cared mair for that lass then ivor Harry Wardle cared for the best tarrier that ivor went doon Puddin Chare. But lissen te me story. Aw met her forst i' Collinwood Street, one bonny day: aw called a bonny day becas ivrything Iuckt se bonny that day te me. Sint Nicklis Chorch te me luckt bonnier then ivor; an' Gregson's jewlor's shop glissint brighter then it ivor did before. But a' the dymir:ds an' watch fyeces there had ne chance wi' the fyece 0' that lass, maw Iuv ! Her eyes fair 'cIipsed the dyminds iv his rings! Aw luckt at her fairly mesrnerised. She Iuckt back-but not at me. No! it wes te see what time it wes ! Awenvied that luck. Aw diddent "wish aw wes a bard," but aw wished aw wes a clock. She passed us, an' aw went te wark, or else aw wad followed her; but me dinner-cor wes nearly up, an' aw dornet loss half-a-day, [or aw'd lost three quarters that week alredy, That neet, before aw left the shop, aw weshed me-sel at the tap, au' dried me-sel on a pocket-handkercher aw had worn three weeks, an' combed me hair oot wi' me tin can lid. An' what for? For fear aw shud meet that lass ! But aw diddent ;-not that neet, Aw gat hyem, an' started te clean me-sel ower agyen.

"What are ye puttin yor Sunday's claes on the neet fod" me muther says. This wes a staggerer! Aw diddent knaw what te say; for aw'd nivvor offered te put them on throothe week before, exceptin on a Setterday neet, when aw knew they war at hyem. So aw mum; miled sumthing i' that feulish way that neither ov us knew what aw wes sayin. " Ye had mair need tyek them off, an' tyek care 0' them, for ye cannet tell hoo seun ye'll get anuther suit," says me muther; "an ye knaw hoo dear ivrything is !" Wiva sigh eneuf te knock doon Roger Tichborne, aw teuk them off, an' then teuk me-sel off te bed. Aw wes ower vext te gan oot then. " What's the mettor wi' ye the neet, Bill? ye nivvor gan te bed this seun ; an' thor's whole threepennorth 0' tripe for Geordey, an' ye an' me, at supper time! " Aw tell'd me muther aw wes sleepy; an' that wes one 0' the biggest lees aw ivor tell'd i' me life• •• Are ye bad?" she says. "No, muther!" says aw; tho aw knew aw wes, an' that wes bad i' luv; for aw knew that aw wes in luv-me forst luv-an' at forst sight-wi' that bonny lass aw had seen i' the mornin; aw had nivvor felt such a funny sensayshun afore. Aw rowled frae side te side i' bed; shut me eyes, an' tried te myek me-sel believe aw wes asleep; but aw cuddent, for ~w knew aw wassent. Next mornin, aw teuk mair pains wi' me-sel te gan te wark then aw'd ivor deun ; an' at dinner. time aw met that lass agyen_ She luckt bonnier then ivor. Aw cuddent help but stop an' stare at her-mind ye, stop an' stare at her! She goy us a luck that myed us blush like a greet bairn, an' aw warned mony a time she's thowt aw wes as daft as pig's weshins. That neet aw nivvor offered te cum oot. "What are ye kickin me for?" growls wor Geordey, as we lay i' bed tegither; for aw's a varry quiet sleeper, an' he teuk badly wi' me bein se restless, for he wassent used wid. Awpretended te be asleep; but aw cuddent tyek him in; for, a few minutes efter, when me fut just acksidently touched him, aw nivvor knew till he goy us such a kick that sent us sprawlin on the floor, i' the dark. An aw dorsent shoot; aw wes frightened me muther wad hear us; so aw

scrammiled inte bed agyen the best way aw cud, shakin like a piece 0' tishey paper, an' just as useless. "What de ye mean be gawn on this way?" says Geordey; "this is the seckind neet ye've gyen on that way. If ye cannet sleep yorsel, ye heh ne call te hinder me; besides, aw'll not let onybody kick me for nowt !•• Aw tried te quiet him wi' the kindest words aw cud find on me trimilin tung; for Geordey's a canny fellaw, only kind 0' hettempered like. "Geordey," says aw, "aw's l' luv 1" " Yor i' what?" says he. "Aw's i' Iuv l " says aw. So aw tell'd him awl aboot us tyekin such a fancy te that. bonny lass; an' when aw'd tell'd him, aw felt as leet as if sumbocly had lifted a cairt-load 0' white Ieed off me stomick. Geordey wes a lang time i' gein us an ansor, but at last he says"Is she a gud-luckin lass? " "Yis !" says aw; an' aw c1aspt me hands the syem way as aw de when aw say me prayers. "Aw'lI gan wi' ye an' hev a luck at her the morrow dinnertime," says he, "an' aw'll tell ye what aw think on her, for aw reckin me-sel a bit ov a judge! ,. He went wiv us the next day, an' aw expect aw stared at her i' the syem stupid way aw had before. She gov us a kind ov a smile. A bonny smile! Still aw cuddent help but think it wes one i' pity for me shyness an' me igorance. "What de ye think on her?" says aw te Geordey, efter she passed us. "She's a fine donor!" he says. "Aw think she is!" says aw; an' aw felt at that momint just the syem as if she really thowt 0' me, an' knew for a sartinty what aw thowt ov her. That neet, aw drest me-sel an' went oat. Many a time aw walked roond the Market, Grainger Street, or any uther street where aw thowt aw might see her. At last aw did I 'Twes i' Grainger Street! She wes biv her-sel ! She saw us ! Aw followed her alang one street-then anuther-an' then

 anuther; sumtimes close tiv her, an' sumtimes a hundrid yards behint, But whenivor aw got nigh hand her, me heart always failedus. Aw wesower shy; aw stood bamboozled; aw wondered what te de; an' when aw had the corridge te luck roond us,-she wes gyenl An' monya dayan' neet went on like this. At last, one neet, aw myed up me mind te speek, for ivry smile she'd gien us throo the day had myed us like her mair then ivor; an' aw begun te think aw had a chance. So that neet, wi' mair confidence i' me-sel then ivor aw thowt aw wad hev, eftor aw'd nearly spoilt the luckin-glass wi' Iuckin in't se lang, aw bent me wayte where aw wesmyestlikely te meet her. At last she comI If aw haddent been i' luv before, aw wad heh been then. She nodded te me! She nodded te me! Aw started! an' stud! an' started agyen I Awfollowedher, an' got closetiv her. Aw tutched her airm I her airm ! She torned roond. Aw wesgawn tespeak;-aw tried; but me heart or sumthing else stuck i' me throat. The wetter started i' me eyes, an' there aw stud. Aw cuddent speak. Meairm on hers-an' still aw cuddent speak. Aw let go, an' thowt aw wesgawn te famt ; aw stud like a greet thickheed, iva cad swet, when aw saw her gan slawlyaway. Hoo awgot hyem aw divvent knaw; hoo aw kickt i' bed that neet aw divvent knaw; hoo aw got up aw divvent knaw; an' hoo aw did me wark the maistor only knaws. But he goy us the bag I The next Sundayneet, mad wi' Iuv an' desperashun, detarmined te knaw me fate, aw rushed up the MoorEdge. It wes awful dark. Blind as aw am at ony time, the darkness wes ower much for me. Aw stared inte ivry lass's fyece aw met; knocked one ower; an' tummiled agyen anuther; got me eye blackt wi' one 0' thor lads that aw nivvor saw; an' staggered a' waysbut the reet one. At last a lamp-post stopt us, an' there aw stud. Stud, wi' me blinkin eye luckin for the cause 0' me affecshun an' refleckshun,

What wes that aw saw be the refleckshun 0' the lamp? It wes her, me lass! But thor wes a lad wiv her! Aw saw them pass. Ideas like leetnin nearly struck us daft. But thor wes ne mistyek: aw had seen her linkin past us wiv a lad. Aw had lost her throo me narvisness. What wes aw te de? Aw wad see whe it wes that had sharpt us ! Aw rushed doon the crood 0' happier foaks then me, an' stuck me-sel agyen the forst lamp-post that they'd pass. They com near us i-they nodded! Byeth 0' them J They nodded I-nodded te me ! " What are ye dein here, Billy?" says a weeI-knawn voice. Aw luckt up at the lad, an' me brains (if aw hey ony) wes obscured wiv a feelin 0' madness that aw dornet gie vent te, when his eyes met mine. It wes wor Geordey ! Me awn bruther had sharpt us! Aw cannet say ony mair, for aw's heartbroke; but A man might as wee! dce As be as shy as me.

JOE AND TOM "WILSON, TWIN BROTHERS

"So yor bruther Tom an' ye's twins!" says Mistress Bell te me the tuther day. "Yis," says aw. II Ye'll be byeth one age then I" says she, Il No," says aw, "Hoo's that?" says she. "Aw's twenty minnits auder then Tom," 'says aw, "Bliss me!" says she, openin her eyes an' haddin up her hands, "what a pity it is that he's not twenty minnits auder then ye, an' then ye wad be byeth alike! n

LYIN BAD l' BED!

MRS. CLASH AN' MRS. GOSSIP'S IDEAS ABOOT IVRYTHING.

Aw cannet tell hoo lang aw lay, but aw waken'd weak an' feeble te me senses, if aw hevony, an' aw heard, at forst not c1ivor, but still aw heard sum voices tawkin iv a kind 0' half-whisper that myed us keep me eyes shut te myek them imadjin aw wes still asleep. Aw knew thor voices nicely-they belang'd te Mrs. Clash an' Mrs, Gossip. "It's a pity he's se bad!" says Mrs. Clash. "Aw doot it's a bad job for him; he's been bad a lang time noo !" "Sarves him reet t" says Mrs. Gossip; "he owt te tyek care ov he-sel when he's wee!. Aw cannet tell hoo foaks can lie se lang i' bed when thor bad! Aw wes nivvor bad except when aw wes laid up, an' then aw wes always up i' three days! " "Ye've been a strang wummin !" says Mrs. Clash; "for mony a time aw've been bad an' gein up; an' maw poor man said it wad hev been a gud job if aw had gyen, espeshly when he wes iv a pashun. Aw mind when wor little Jackey deed, aw went an' borrow'd a black dress ov Mrs. Langnose, an' she had the cheek te ax us for'd afore a fortneet wes ower. 'Mrs. Clash,' says she, •it's high time ye were gein that dress back!' "'Aw'll heh me len oot!' says aw, 'an' aw'll keep't as lang as aw like!' an' she actwilly had the cheek te say that aw wes impittent. " ••God forbid!" says Mrs. Gossip; "anybody that lens owt tiv onybody owt te run the risk!" "Yis!" says Mrs. Clash. "What a nawful thing it is hoo the world gans on, when we owt teleeve i' peace an' quietness, an' agree a' tegither I-that wes what me poor gud-man used te say I" "What a queer thing men shud gan off i' that way!" says Mrs. Gossip, "when war still alive; an' then they heh the narve te say that it's us that kills them; but the female porshun 0' the popilashun wes always the sufferers i' this inyewman world !" "It's a pity that poor sowl i' bed 'ill not dee I" says Mrs. Clash, "for aw cud borrow a goon ov Mrs. Dumps for the fewnril, an' it wad de te gan te Mrs. Smasher's tea pairty when the club bricks up!"

" What a gud thing them clubs isI" says Mrs. Gossip. " Mrs. Short got fowerpund oot 0' one whenher man deed! " "Aw suppose Jack Lang's been on the fuddle.ivor since the LeckshunI" says Mrs. Clash; "it's a nawfuljob this vote be ballot!" "What de ye call vote be ballast?" says Mrs. Gossip; "aw alwaysthowt the ballast weswherethe lasses dances i' the Panto·mime!" "The vote be ballot," says Mrs. Clash, "is thls=-thor's two dandy-likechepscom inte the hoose an' teuk Jack oot an' myed him drunk, an' the next mornin when he wes bad they teuk him away iv a cab te put hisnyem iv a box, te say whe he voted for; an' he sayshe wes that much knockt aboot an' deev'd wi' cheps shootin at byeth sides, 'Whe are ye gawn te vote for?' that he'll vote ne mair fornebody!" "Aw supposeJack's gawn te get married!" saysMrs. Gossip; "it's mebbiesfor the best, for he wesalways a heedstrang feuI,an' he wants te knaw what it is te be kept doona bit! " " Aw wunder if that poor sowl i' bed ivor says his prayers?" says Mrs. Clash, " It'ill be a badjob if he dissent!" saysMrs. Gossip; "for loaks shud alwaysstart te pray whenthey torn bad I" , "Stor thefire,Mrs.Gossip!" saysMrs. Clash; "it's cawdhere, an' it dissent matter hoo monycoalswe usewhen we hevint te pay forthem. Coalsisa nawfulprice noo,an' meat'sa shiIIina pund !" " Meat's meat noo!" saysMrs. Gossip. " It's a blissinit isI" ."Y. Mrs. Clash; "aw got two pund last weeknearlya' byens I" "Thor's a bonnycoffinaw sawi' Newgate Street aw think wad be his size!" says Mrs. Gossip. " They've a grand show0' coffins yonder for them that wantste use them! " "May the day be lang distant when we'll need them!" says Mrs. Clash. "Is thor any whiskeyleft i' the bottle? " "Ay, thor's still a few glassesI" says Mrs. Gossip. " Foaks always need a drop te cheer thor hearts under dowley sorkumstances! " "What de ye think 0' them Gud Tipplers, wi' thor publick hooses wi' ne drink?" says Mrs. Clash. "They mun heh sum interest sumway, ye knaw, for teetotelorsneed profitjust as weelas onybodyelse! "

"Yor reet!" says Mrs. Gossip; "it's ivrybody te thor trade. bliss ye! Wor Timothy wes a striker, but preachin paid him better! A gud tung myeks mony a man I" "Wassent it a shym for Bob Mack te s.teal the cat he myed a prissent te wor Fred?" says Mrs. Clash. "It wes a gud ratter; but just for a little bit spite he stoled, efter Fred behavin se weel tivhim I" " It wes the hight of base ingratitude, as the pate says!" says Mrs. Gossip; "an' he'll nivvor knaw ne gud on't." "He nivvor did!" says Mrs. Clash; "for the cat got used te wor hoose, an' it waddent stop wi' him; so ye see that payshuns an' vartue's always rewarded!" "It wes villiny defeated!" says Mrs. Gossip, " an' vartue triumphant! " " Aw suppose Roger's gawn te get the state!" says Mrs. Clash; "he's an ill-used man, whether he's the man or not! " "Ay, ivrybody should heh thor awn I" says Mrs. Gossip; "an' what belangs tiv him shud be his, whether it belangs tiv him or not!" " Yor reet there!" says Mrs. Clash. "Let's hey anuther drop 0' medsin!" "This is better medsin then the lad i' bed gets!" says Mrs. Gossip, smackin her lips an' wipein them wiv her apron. •• He mun heh been a wunderful man that invented whiskey I" ••What de ye think aboot the boat races?" says Mrs. Clash. " That Lally mun be a cawshun! " " But Bagna.ll's a cawshuner !" :say::; Mr::;.Oosstp, "That Jimmy Taylor's a queer un ! •• says Mrs. Clash. "He's ower mony for Kelley! " says Mrs. Gossip. •• What a nawful job that Barber's strike wes!" says Mrs. Clash; " but strikes nivvor did ne gud; it cost war Tommy thrippence te get his hair cut. Aw've broke a baysin ower his heed, an' nivvor chairged him nowt for'd !" " Aw wunder what they'll charge for a decent heerse? " says Mrs. Gossip; "things 'ill heh te be got up forst. rate, for hIs i' three clubs! " "Let's hey anuther drop 0' whiskey, an' wish he may rest i' peace! " says Mrs. Clash. " Man was made te mourn!" says Mrs. Gossip; "an wummen tee. Here's yor very gud hilth, Mrs. Clash I"

" Heh ye been readin i' the papers aboot them queer carryins on the Shakershes?" says Mrs. Clash; "'it's sumthink disgustin, upon my word!" ••What de ye call Shakers?" says Mrs. Gossip; "for aw's ne scholard!" "Them foaks that calls thor-sels relidjis!" says Mrs. Clash; "but they hey a queer way ovshowin't: they dance, kiss, cuddle, squeeze,an' de owt they like the time thor sayin thor prayers! " " May the divi!tyek them, but not tyek us !" saysMrs. Gossip; " thor warsethen the Mormons! " " An' they'rebad eneuff!" says Mrs, Clash. "Te think ovaman wi' twenty wives or mair at the syem time; thor not wimmin, hinny. Is thor a drop whiskeyleft, Mrs. Gossip?" "Aw believe thor is, Mrs. Clash; but what wi' the price o' provishunsan' the New License Act, it tyeks foaksa' thor time te get a drop i' cumfortnoo!" "May he hey a quiet end!" saysMrs. Clash; "for aw divvent like te seefoakssuffer; may we forget hisfaIts, for all he had such a lot; but we a' heh them, mistress; an' may he seun be i' hivvin!" "Awmen !" says Mrs. Gossip, as she finished the last drop; "awmen! " Awfell asleep. COAL DUST. THE Gallowgate Lad might heh gyen wi' the Lanlord's Dowter; but them's thingsweheh nowt te de with, so nyen 0' yor impittince. Lazeynesswes the muther ovinvenshun. The war i' Sandgit's not i' the History ov Ingland. Man wes myed te mourn at neet as wee!as onyuther time. Gie maw rispects te the tripe wifeye war tawkin aboot, an' nivvorfall oot wi'onybodythat's i' yor debt. Aw divventsayyor i' mine, mind ye! Thor's ne place like Walker.

ACROSTIC ALLAN

 A 11ye that like a quiet read, L et Allan noo supplyyor need; L et his collecshunyor eyesmeet, A n' ye may sairch fraestreet te street,'N yen i' the toon his stock can beat.

HOO CHARLEY PRINCE SHOT THE BULL.

CHAPTER I.

"THE TEMPTAYSHUN"

"CHARLEY," says Bags the Butcher, one neet, te that worldrenoon'd rifleman, Charley Prince, "aw wad like te hey a bit crack wi' ye on varry important bissness ! " Charley drew nigher hand Bags, wiv a luck 0' wisdum thet wes varry seldum seen on his broad, gud-tempered fyece, except when he went te church on the Sundays, an' that was only when the priest set his eyes at him, if he thowt Charley wes gawn te sleep. " Charley," says Bags, "aw've sumthin varry porticklor te say te ye!" Charley ansored wiv a nod, as much as te say, "A' reet l gan on, aw's Iisnin !" "Charley," says Bags agyen, "the question aw want te ax ye is this-De ye think ye can shut a mad bull?" "Whe are ye pickin yor fun oot on?" wes the ansor 0' the noble Prince, an' Charley fairly reedined agyen. "Aw's pickin ne fun at a'," says Bags. "Aw've bow! one frae Jimmy the Farmer, an' aw's fritened te gan inte the byer te feII'd; an' aw thowt as ye war a volunteer, wiv a gun, an' a gud shot, ye might gan in an' shut it." "Me?" cries the rifleman, tumin as pale as a pillow-slip, an' staggerin as if he had committed sewyside. " Ay, ye !" says Bags, as serious as Samson when he killed one 0' Wombwell's lions. "What are ye fritened on? Aw'll pay ye for'd; an' yor sartinly not a sowljor if yor fritened te shut a bull! " "But it's mad!" says Prince. " The better reason it shud be shot!" says the butcher. " So get yor gun, an' aw'll find powther an' shot. Aw knaw the lanlord 0' the' Broken Gas Pipe' hes sum." "Whey, ye sartinly divvent expect us te gan inte the byer tid?" says Charley; an' the blud 0' the Princes seemed te be sink in Intiv his Wellingtin beuts. "Aw'lI tell ye what we can de, then," says Bags, as if an idea had struck him an' pleased him; "we can gan up i' the hayloft, an' ye can hit him throo the trap-door where the lether is; an' ye'll be as safe as Albert the Greet was i' the cairt 0' hay! Besides, aw's

not porticklor tiv a bob or two; an' aw'Il myek ye a prissint 0' the heed on't, an' it's big eneuffte myekpotted-heed te sarve a ridgement 0' hungry porter-pokemen !" "Whey, yor surely not gawn te selI the karkus for yewman fud ? Yor not gawn te sell a mad bulI for foaks te eat?" says Charley, as ifhe wes gawn te heh the bile iv his stomick. "Ye greet cull!" says Bags, wiv a luck 0' butcher's contempt; " hoo are ye te kna w hoo mony mad bulls ye've eatin? So say the words: will ye gan or not? Thor's ne danger, an', if thor is, aw'l! tyek all upon me-sel ! " " AW'Il gan the neet J" says Charley; "it's settled!" an' when he said this, he luckt as if he only wished it was. But he had gien his word, an' the word ov a rifleman wes nivvor knawn te be broken.

CHAPTER II."THE TRADJIDY."

IT's neet; an' Bags, wi' Charley Prince carryin a gun iv his trimilin hand, myek thor way slawly te the scene ov ackshun, where Jimmy the Farmer's waitin for his celebrated visitors. " Is that ye, Jimmy?" says Bags, when he saw a leet aboot the size ov a fardin candle glimmerin a few yards off. "Yis; aw've browt a lanteren, for fear 0' the hay tyekin fire!" says Jimmy iv a whisper that myed Charley's blud creep intiv his veins like bugs intiv a blanket. Wi' the bravery ov a Noodle at the Ridin Skeul Drill he followed Bags ••n' Jimmy intiv a back-yard that led the way te the loft. But a growl frae the byer stopt him till a growl frae Bags myed him gan on. At last they got upstairs amang the hay. " All amang the hay I " "Charley," says Bags te that Prince ov Warriors, "gan beside the hole yonder, where the lether gans doon, an' Jimmy 'ill haud the eet, an' the retIey ye see its heed, fire! •• "But if it cums up the steps?" says Prince ; an' he shivered as if the croon ov his heed wes falIin on tiv his shoolders. " Hoo can the bull cum up the steps, ye feul?" says Jimmy, when a blair com frae the byer like one ov Airmstrang's breechloaders.

" Get amangthe hay, Charley," says Bags, "an' yor quite safe; its beenfond Sf! biv experience! But mind, whativor ye de, bit it i' the heed orthe throat, an' foaks'ill think aw'vekilled it me-sel l Of Charleymoved slawlyamang the hay, till he got te the openin, but the noise 0' the hoofs an' chains belaw, an' grunts an' growls, wassent owt 0' the kind he wanted te raise his corridge, for his heart wasgettin that law it might heh ritched wherethe bull was. " Fire noo, man! ••criesBags, as he clickt the leet frae Jimmy. "Fire noo! its heed's this way,an' ye've a grand chance! " " The Lord heh marcyon yor sowl!" moans Charley,as he shut his eyesan' firedat the unfortnit King 0' the Bulls. Bang! A roar! a yell! a what! The wholebuildin wesshakinas ifit hadgot whatit diddent like. " Marcyonus!" criesCharley, "what for becas was aw browt here te shed the blud ovan innicent fellow-creeter ?" "Let's gan doon," says Bags; "aw can easystickt-aw heh me knives wis. Cumon, lads! it's a gud job it wessuch a gud shot; but aw alwayssaid Charleywesa clinker! " Wiv a bit porswayden he followed Bags an' Jimmy, for the nyem 0' bein clivorraised his heed abuv the hay. Bags luckt roond an' examined the pairt nearest tiv him that belanged te the victim0' CharleyPrince. He luckt at the strugglinbeast. "Yor a gud shot, Charley; ye've myeda hole i' one side ov its heed I" saysBagsan' Jimmy i' one breeth nearly oot 0' breeth. A growl frae the uther end myed thema.'luck up i' [rite. " What's that?" saysBags,an' the lantern iv his hand an>the teeth iv his heed played a teun he diddent fancy. He got nearer. " What! " he criesi' rage; II ye've hit it closeagyenthe tail an' spoilt a roond 0' beef! " " I' the abdomen?" falters Charley, usingharder words then he wesusedwith. He staggeredback. The gun fellfcaehis hands. He shot ne mair I

MORAL

The man that shuts a bull Mun be a heedstrang cull.

MISTRISS FOSTER'S DESCRIPTION ov A BOAT RACE.

ONE efterneun, the time aw wes i' Carlisle, aw wes sittin smokin me pipe as cumfortable as cud be, an' reedin the papers. Thor wes nebody but Mrs. Foster (that wes me lanlady) an' me i' the hoose, She's a real canny body,-but she dissint fancy Newcassil at a', ivor since she spoiled her best hat (the varry one she wes married in) when she wes at Newcassil wiv a trip, an' she blames nowt but the smoke an' seut 0' the canny toon te this varry day. As aw wes sayin afore-aw wes sittin puffin away an' reedin the papers aw had sent ower tiv us frae hyem, an' me eye, as nattoril as cud be, went te the sportin collum an' fund oot an accoont ov a boat race that had tyekin place a day or two afore that. H Mistriss Foster," says aw, wishin for once te myek Newcassil shine iv her eyes, "did ye ivor see a boat race?" " What?" says she. " A boat race," says aw, " Ay," she says, as dryas ivor she cud, "aw've seen what ye call a boat race." "What we call a boat race," says aw, fairly tyekin aback an' Juckin at her astonished like; "whey, de ye not think it's fine sport? " "Fine sport," says she, an' she lafft agyen-" if ye call that sport, aw've nivvor seen ony. Aw'll nivvor forget when Foster an' me wes curtin, he teuk us te Newcassil; it turned oot a real wet day, an' ew had me best claes on, an' aw haddint as mony claes then as aw hey noo, for aw wes only a poor factory lass i' middlin sorkumstances, but thenk hivvin, wiv a gud man, aw's as cumfortable as me neybors. Nivvor mind, Foster wad hey us te see what ye call a boat race, for the day cleared up a bit, an' aw got me claes dried at one 0' Foster's frindsis; so he teuk us doon what ye call Dean Street-a bank fit for nebody te gan doon that's onyways stoot, an' aw wes varry near me confinement at the time wi' little Billy (tho aw wassint married, but that wes a' Foster's falt), Weel, eftor we got doon the street aw wes tawkin aboot, he teuk us alang a greet lang dorty place, where it's ne easy matter te keep yor feet, for thor's ne flags i' sum pairts on't. The Close de ye call'd? it's weel nyemed, for it's ower close for foaks, let alyen cairts an' horses. ECtor a lang nesty walk nearly up te the knees i' muck an'

dort, we got on tiv a greet big hill, an' aw divvint knaw hooivor aw got up, for as aw said afore, aw neethor like te gan up or doon banks, for besides bein stoot aw wes varry short-winded. But the warst on't is eftor we did get up there, we had te stand for full three-quarters iv an oor be Foster's watch (an' it's a good timekeeper, for all he wun'd at a raffle) before thor wes ony signs ov a boat-race. At last, eftor me payshuns wes fairly worn oot, an' Foster had bet eighteenpence an' a quairt 0' beer (he wes a varry extravagant lad at that time) wiv a man that stud beside us, we heers a greet shoot an' many a' gan on Bob, hinny' eftor that, an' a' the foaks belaw us wes runnin aboot like a lot 0' gonniels. We sees aboot half-a-dozen steem-boats full 0' foaks, an' they war all shootin at sumthink aw cuddint see. •De ye see the race?' says Foster, an' he wes varry anxshus, for he dissent like te loss muney at ony time, if he can helpt. ' Vis !' says aw, an' aw kept luckin at the steem-boats, an' ivrybody i' them seemed te be madder then ivor. 'Whe's forst!' says Foster, as if he diddent see them. e The Mystery" says aw, an' it teuk us a lang time te see the nyem on't, for the smoke wes eneuff te blind us." " Whey, Mistriss Foster," says aw, interruptin her story, "ye sartinly diddint think it was a race wi' the steem-boats, did ye? " "Yis! " she says, "aw thowt nowt else till thor wes anuther greet shoot, 'There they are.' Aw diddent knaw whe was there till Foster pointed oat two men wi' ne claes on, pullin for bare lift on tang planks 0' wood! " "But wassint it a bonny seet?" says aw, wantin her te say sumthin favorable. "Whey, thor wes only one man on each plank!" says she, "an' aw expected te see a greet lot 0' cheps i' decent sized boats, an' aw cuddint help callin Foster a feu1 for thrawn his muney away ower such daftness, for he lost his eighteenpence, as weel as the beer, an' it started te rain agyen; an' te myek a bad job warse, we lost the train, an' if ye call that sport aw's deun wi' ye !"
ONE of the truest signs ov hard wark an' lazeyness is dorty fingernails. There's Harry Hardup, a chep that nivvor strikes a bat, one 0' the dortiest animals that ivor begged a chow 0' baccy. He hes byeth finger-nails-an' his whole body as much ornamented as if he had been doon the pit for a week, an' forgot to wesh hi-sel, 30

MARY ANNE'S. LETTER TE ME.

MR. EDITTOR,

Deer Sor,-Alloo me te ockipy yor vallyable space te gie vent te me woondid feelins. It wes New Eer's Eve, an' aw sat beside the fire waitin anxshusley for me yung man te be me forst-fur, for he'd promised se faithfully te cum. Aw had ivrything prepared the best way aw cud, an' it really diddent luck bad for a poor body's hoose. The furnitor luckt varry canny i' the candle-leer, an' a clean sheet myed a gud tyeble-cloth. The tyeble contained a glass plate one 0' me neybors lent us, wiv half-a-pund 0' spice loaf on, cut inte ivor se mony little pieces te myek't luck like a lot. We had a gill 0' whiskey on the tyeble, wiv a gill 0' wetter we had filled the bottle with for fear the sporit merchant had sent ower- proof in mistyek; an' still me intended diddent cum, Is thor ne remedy for such bad behavour? Can aw not get damages for Breach 0' Promise? Aw's varry igorant on these subjecks, an' aw think the men foaks mun think that us poor creetors is quite distitute 0' human feelin, an' can be disappointed wiv impunity. He says he'll be me forst-fut next eer, an' that'll myek't a' reet; but aw cannet see hoo it will. If he's followin me wi' honourable intenshuns, aw owt te be his wife before then. But aw suppose aw'll heh te keep me tung still, or else he'll mebbies fan oot wis, an' that waddent de. It dissent luck wee! a lad an' lass fallin oat if they've gyen a lang time tegithor, .50 aw'll just heh te keep up me heart, an' wait till me pashuns an' vartue's rewarded; for When a lass is iv her Inver's pooer, She's just like a slave on orth, aw's sure. That's hoo the men needent be astonished at thewimmen tryin te heh thor awn way eftor marridge, for they've such a vast te put up with afore they de get a man to keep them. Yors afHickshunately, Dumplin Tarriss,

MARY ANNE. Jenewarry, Newcassel-on- Tyne.

TO LET, in Sangit, One Room, Rent 5s, 9d. per week, suitable for a married couple that's not likely te hev ony bairns. Ne uthers need apply, as the rent's low.

SUPERSTISHUS SALLY

" Whe is't that puts the foaks aboot ? Whey, Superstishus Sally, An' fills the breest wi' pain an' doot! Whey, Superstishus Sally. She'll 'give a groan an' shake her heed, An' talk aboot sumbody deed, An' sweer thor deeth she lang foresee'd, A queer aud wife is Sally! ••
SHE is a queer unl Monya time aw've thowt she wes a dissendent frae the Lankyshire Witches, an' if she had leev'd a hundrid eers afore she wes born, they wad burnt her te save funeril expenses. Bliss ye, aw believe if she had been a show actor she wad pass'd for Meg Marilees wiv her Sunday's claes on j an' aw've seen her gum just like one 0' Macbeth's witches roond the kyel-pot, when she's been short 0' broth. Awnivvor saw such asuperstishus.body i' me life; ye wad swore she had seen a' the ghosts i' the "Tails an' the Borders," for she cud tawk aboot nowt else but sumthing 0' that sort. Aw've seen her hey us a' that frighten'd that we cuddent gan te sleep withoot shuttin wor eyes. Thor wes one neet she had us that shakey, aw tummil'd ower the cat on the stairs, an' nearly broke me neck ower a coal-scuttle that wes stannin biv itsel on the stair-heed, an' aw dornet gan te bed without hevin a candle burnin for weeks efter. Thor wes nebody liked her in the street but her awn man, an' he used te fight wiv her se often that we wad been sorryfor her if she had been onybody else but her awnsel, Hewes a preacher on the Keeside i' the Sunday mornins, an' a cobbler throo the week j an' he wad been a gud man if it haddent been for his baddisposishun, for he had as little marcy on his wife's body as he had on the beut-sowls, He cud myek shoes an' sarmins as sharp as onybody, an' deliver them he-sel as seun as they war finished, Sally cud myek onybody's hoose miserable on the shortest notis. Aw've seen her frighten a' wor foaks wi' saying she saw the" Deeth Spate" on the candle, when it's only been a big snot that wanted it's heed cut off. If she saw a piece of dried smoke on the bars, she wad say it wes the "Deeth Leaf I".an' we war sure te hear 0' the deeth 0' sumbody we knew. We waited a lang time once te see if her words wad

cum true, but we heard 0' nebody deein i' porticklor except the " King 0' the Cannibal Islands," an' she said it wes meant for him. Sally prophesied that Bob Stiffun wad be the forst that wes tried i' the New Pollis Coort, an' he wad get clear, but he diddent, He wes put off te the 'Sises, an' got siven eers, an' we've nivvor seen him since he wes sentenced. She said Fanny Thornton's forst bairn wad be a lad, but it turn'd oot twins, an' quite a different breed te what ye send te sarve thor times iv a boiler-yard. One 0' wor neybors once got Sally a Seedlits Pooder as a coolin an' refreshin beverage. She wes studying stars i' the back-yard gud pairt 0' the day efter that. If ivor a dog starts te yowl i' the street opposite onybody's window, she'll say "The blinds 'ill be doon afore lang t " an' her prophetic words nearly always cums reet aboot bed-time.

WOR GEORDEY'S LETTER TE ME. DEARSOR,

Te begin wi' letters ye mun heh the Alphibit afore ye; an' te begin ye mun hev a start, or mair properly speakin a commencement; but hoo te commence afore ye begin's what aw nivvor cud myek oot, an' hoo te myek a beginnin withoot commencin's just the syem as aforesaid. Noo, Sor, when ye rite a letter, ye want te rite one for ivrybody te admire, an' hoo can ye myek Admorayshun withoot the letter A? N00 here ye may mebbies say let her B ! but if aw let her B, ye cannet C what a.w's gawn te D ! or E or anybody else F they divvent like me nonsense wad say G wo! or gan on wi' what ye heh te say,-but when ye think o'me H, aw need tawkin tee, for aw's only a young un, but one that 'ill bother the I ov <my weel-bred skoller 'i J 'ill, or ony uther rlspectible institushun. As aw'm only a K t'rer te foaks that dissent knaw any mair nor me'sel, tho aw try te L-ivate me'sel a little bit, wi' tryin te shuv doon thor throats what they cannet understand, the syem as lots 0' greet speakers 'ill de. But ivry man te his bisnis, bliss ye, maw canny hinny ! M-barkin on a new N-terprise, aw may say, "0 where will aw steer te?" but as aw'm a P-'sibil fellow, ye'U not put us doon as a parfict Q R, for aw nivvor myed a jump yit but aw cud cum te the grund agyen; an'S aw hear Mistor, yor a gud un T a' Tynesiders

an' ivrybody belangin te them, aw cannet be imposin upon V, an' ye'II not put yor V-to on me suppose aw W up wi' tryin te myek this oot withoot an X-planayshun. But Y ye cannet see't noo ye'Il see herefter, becas ye can only expect fondness frev a man's Z that knaws ne better. So ye see as aw wes bother'd hoo te write one letter, aw've gien ye the lot. Noo, ye'll wundor for what purpose; whey, aw'Il just tell ye. It's te lairn ye hoo te reed yor A, B, C's, an' plain Inglish tegither! They'll byeth cum in useful, an'ye'll heh ne refleckshuns upon yor poor aud fether an' muther if ye lairn yor-sel. So if ye'Il tyek maw advice, Sor, ye'll Iairn the Alphibit an' A, B, abs, Efter that, "Jack the Giant KiIler's" varry canny for bairns. Yors i' frindship, GEORDEY. P.S.-Ye needent be offended, for aw's just as much ashem'd 0' ye as ye can be for yor-sel, Think 0' Bob an' Mally, an' thenk yor lucky stars yor not married !

CUM HERE AN' AW'LL PICK YE UP! "

CUM here an' aw'I! pick ye up!" says aw te me little bit lad, One day, as he went tummilin doon (he's only two eers aud). But the little fellow did what aw had nivvor seen afore, He diddent rise, but, quite composed, he crept aIang the floor, An' waited till aw pickt him up ;-aw kissed him ower agyen. The bairns sumtimes is just as cute as ony grown-up men.

CHRISMISS.

CHRISMIS Sagyen! The day se anxshusleyluckt forward te cums an' gans i' ne time. It's seun numbered wi' the things that's past, an' as far off as ivor it wes nigh hand; an' the time when "The beef on the tyeble lucks temptin an' lushus, An' tyests se much sweeter wi' bein the prise, An' thehol!y seems noddin as tho' it wes laffin At a' the glad fyeces an' bonny bright eyes,"
vanishes for anuther eer, Mony a lump 0' fine beef's tried, cut, an' quarter'd; many a fine prise beast gets a knock on the heed quite unexpected; mony a fine plumb puddin hes hardly time te knaw whether it's alive or not ; mony a canny lass gans te bed te sleep an' dream aboot nowt but luv an' happiness; an' mony a canny lass gans te bed, an' cannet sleep at a', throo not bein se successful as the one aforesaid, i' the airt 0' kortin; for all it's a time ye wad say
"When foaks bid gud-bye te bad temper an' care."

But we cannet expect ivrything sunshiny i' winter; an' for a' we knaw that mony a belly gets wee! fill'd wi' the gud things i' season, still we knaw thor's mony a poor sow! starvin, that wad like te .see the Chrismiss buns mair extensively sorkilated. To all that we can wish is " A Merry Chrismiss te ye a', A Merry Chrismiss may ye knaw, May them that cannet noo afford, Seun hev a gud an' festive board."

NEW YEAR WISHES.

"Wi' stories an' sangs, fnnny coal dust, an' letters, Aw'd like te please a' the gud foaks i' the North, life opinions te give te byeth equals an' betters, An' leeve them te judge 0' thor sense an' thor worth. Wi' hopes aw'll inIiven The poor foaks that's strivin Te pull throo this world 0' greet trouble an' care, An' shud aw succeed in This queer kind 0' reedin, An' gain thor approval, aw'll want nowt ne mair."

ACROSTIC EMERY

EMERY fill'd each breest wi' pride, M irth-prcvokin sangs he wrote, E neuffte please a' far an' wide, Rich an' racy tiv a note, Y e'd hear his sangs a' roond Tyneside.

VOTE BE BALLOT SECRECY.

CANVESSER.-" Whe are ye gawn te vote for? "

VOTER.-" Whey, yor man, ov course! "

CANVESSER.-" That's the style! We'll send a cab up i' gud -time, Are ye gawn te hev a gill?"

JACK McNEIL wes fearfully bad wi' the drink he had had the neet afore, when he teuk his seat i' the express train for the Sooth, forst thing i' the mornin, He shivered as he luckt roond, an' the tears that stud iv his eyes wes eneuff te gain onybody's sympathy for his sufferins, "Will ye hev a drink?" says a mild luckin gentleman next te Jack, as he handed him a bottle that appeared te contain either rum or brandy. "Thenk God! ye've saved me life!" replied Jack, as he lifted the flask tiv his mooth wi' byeth hands te stiddy't a bit. He teuk a gud drink an' then handed the bottle back, wiv a fyece a' shapes but the reet un. "Ye've gein us salts!" says Jack, as he kept spittin aboot the carridge, as if he wes gornin for baccy, "No! maw frind," says the gentleman, "it's not salts, it's cawd tea, withoot milk an' sugar; aw always carry a bottle on't when aw'm travelin !" "Whey, that may tea for ye!" says Jack, "but it 'ill not tea for me! an' ye've got varry little 0' the milk 0' human kindness te tyek a poor fellow in like that, an' it lucks varry like as if ye war short 0' shul!l:or!" The gentleman wes punished.

DAY efter day 'ill cum an' gan Like Mistress Paynowt's tallyman.

"WHAT'S IVA NYEM?" -Justice Lush says if it wassent for his nyemsake, trade wa" be varry slack wi' him mony a time; an' wor Geordey says he's reet.

ACROSTIC SESSFORD

 S ESSFORD,one 0' wor forst local singers, Enchanted the natives wiv his strains, S ittin singin, myekin music linger, S oonds byeth sweet an' joyful i' refrains. F or Tyneside he sung the sangs se bonny, obligin an' ivor kind wes he, Respected an' weelliked be the mony, Delighted beside him they wad be.

r
IF a wife runs away frev her man, Let her gan, An' the best for yor-sel try an' de What ye can! An' that wes just what Paddy Rooney did, when his wife teuk a fancy te thor lodger, Sandy McSnuffin, an' ron away wiv him. Paddy diddent care much aboot his wife tyekin. her hook, .but he waddent loss ony mair ov his property, an' as they had myed pretty free wi' that, he had them browt back,an' sticks teun frae them; an' as he diddent care aboot stickin te them, he sell'd themfor the gud ov he-sel, an' then let his wife gan wi' the cbep she fanciedyfor he knew if a wummin 'ill run away frev her man, she's not worth ne uther's keepin.
YE shud nivvor cry an' myek a fuss aboot hevin a few warts on yor hands. Ye had mair need gan doon on yor knees, an' be thenkful thor not on yor fyece. Hoo wad ye like te hev a rat on yor nose?

THOR'S sum foaks wad myek ye believe yor a' reet if ye hev a mowl on yor reet side, an' a' rang if ye hev a one on. yor .left. Bill McGurk had a mowl on the left side ov his back.an' he went te church an' badly used his wife the syem as usuaL This shows that mowls myeks ne difference.

ACROSTIC THANKS

THANKS te me canny aud frinds ! Here's gud luck te the new, A n' may they, like me aud frinds, N ivvor patt'rinize an' rue,-'Kind te the Bard, Iike.gud fcinds, S upportin him as true.

FINIS.

THE WALTER SCOTT PRESS, NEWCASTLE·ON'TYNE.


 
 
 

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