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
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
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 LEV EL 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.
V OTE
BE BA LLOT 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.
A CROSTIC 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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