a guinea a pint; he sed it licked cod liver oil, castor oil; or
paraffin oil. Castor oil, he said, war varry gooid for ther bowels,
cod liver oil for ther liver, an' paraffin oil for ther leets (whear
they'd noa gas), but buttermilk wor better nor all three put together,
an' he ad vised me to tak it. "Why," aw sed; "what's th' use o'. me
takkin it when aw dooant ail owt?" "Ther's noa tellin' ha sooin yo
may," he said, "an' an it's a varry simple remedy, yo'd better tak it
whether yo do or net." "Reight enuff," aw sed, "simple things
sometimes do th' best. Aw once knew a woman 'at had been confined to
her bed for twelve year, an' her husband cured her in a minit, after
all th' doctors at th' infirmary had gien her up." Th' doctor pricked
his ears when aw sed soa, an' wanted to know all abaat it, soa aw at
it an' tell'd him. "Sally an' her husband lived at th' Arred Well,
but he oft used to goa as far as th' Coit Hill ova neet to have a pint
an' enjoy an haar or two i' company, an' when he gate haoam he used to
catch it, an' finely too, aw con assure yo, for altho shood ligg'd i'
bed soa long, shoo had'nt lost th' use ov her tongue, an' her felly
said 'at shoo hadn't lost th' use ov her teeth nawther, for shoo could
ait as weel as iver shoo could. One neet as he wor gooin hooam, he
bethowt him he'd try a bit ov a dodge on, for although he felt varry
sooary for his wife, yet he could'nt help thinkin' it wor partly
consait at shoo'd suffer'd throo; soa when he gate in, shoo began a
blowin' into him i' fine style. 'Th' owd time, lad! It shows what tha
cares for me! Aw hav'nt had a wick soul to spaik to sin tha went aat,
but it's all one to thee! Tha'll come hooam some time an' find me
ligg'd deead, an' then tha can spree abaat throo morm to neet.' 'Nay,
lass, aw dooant think aw should spree abaat any moor nor aw do nah.
But who does ta think aw met to neet?' he said. 'Ah know nowt abaat
it, nor care nawther.' 'Why, but as aw war comin' up bith' Brayvet
Gate, aw met Betty Earnshaw, an' soa aw went gaiterds wi her a bit,
an' that's reason aw'm soa lat.' 'Oh! tha mud weel be lat! Shoo war
an' owd sweetheart o' thine, wor Betty.' 'Eea, shoo war axin me ha
tha wor gettin' on, shoo seems vany sooary for thi.' 'Sooary be
hanged! aw want nooan ov her sooarys! If shoo could nobbut get me aat
o' th' gate, shoo'd be all reight. Did shoo ax when tha thowt tha'd be
at liberty?' 'Nay shoo did'nt, but shoo did say at shoo thowt tha
lasted long, but shoo pitied thee an' me.' 'Pitied thee, did shoo!
An' what did shoo pity thi for, aw should like to know? Shoo happen
thowt shoo could do better for thee nor what aw've done, but if shoo
wor as badly as me shood know summat. 'Eea, but shoo isn't, for aw
nivver saw her luk better i' mi life, an' shoo talks abaat commin'
i'th' morn in' to clean up for thi a bit; aw sed tha'd be fain to see
her, an' tha sees if owt should happen thee, shadd be getten into th'
way a bit, an' begin to feel moor used to th' haase.' 'Niver! wol my
heart's warm, Tom. Aw'll niver have sich a huzzy i'th' haase, wheal'
aw am! aw'm nooan done wi yet! aw'll live a bit longer to plague yo
wi', an' as for cleanin', aw'll crawl abaat o' mi hands an' knees
afoor shoo shall do owt for me! Yo think aw'm poorly an' soa aw'm to
be trodden on, but aw'll let yo see awm worth a dozen deead uns yet;
nasty owd ponse as shoo is!" An' as sure as yor thear, Doctor, shoo
gate up th' next morn in' an' kinneld th' fair, an' when Tom coom hoam
to his braikfast all wor ready, an' shoo wor set daan at th' table wi
a clean cap on, an' lukkin as smart as smart could be. When th' chap
saw this, he said, "Lass, aw think aw'd better send Betty backward,"
"Eea, aw think tha had," shoo sed, "an' th'a can send her word throo
me 'at aw may live to donee on her gravestooan yet." Tom bafs in his
sleeve a bit sometimes, an' if iver one ov her owd fits seems likely
ta come on, he's nowt to do but say a word or two abaat Betty, an'
shoo's reight in a minnit. That licks buttermilk, Doctor.
It's a comfort.
It's a comfort a chap can do withaat what he connot get. It feels
hard to have to do wi' less nor what a body has at present, but if it
has to be it will be, an' it's cappin' ha' fowk manage to pool throo
haiver bad th' job is. It's naa use for a chap to keep longin' for
sum mat better, unless he's willin' to buckle to, an' work for it; an'
a chap wi' an independent mind ne'er freeats becoss he hasn't all he
wants; he sets hissen to get it, an' if he's detarmined he oft
succeeds, an' if net he doesn't sit daan an' mump, but up an' at it
agean. Havin' a lot o' brass doesn't mak a chap happy, but spend in'
it may do, an' if a chap's wise he'll try to spend it in a way 'at'll
bring happiness for a long time to come. Ther's some fowk feeared 'at
they con niver spend brass safely; they're allus freeten'd of loisin'
it; but they've noa need, for if they spent it i' dooin' gooid,
they'll allus be sure o' gooid interest, for they'll be pleased every
time they think on it. Nah, ther's some things i' this world 'at yo
connot looise. It's a varry easy thing to loise a cork aat ov a
bottle, but it's impossible to loise th' hoil aat ov a bottle neck.
Yo may braik th' bottle all to pieces, but th' hoil is somewhear; it
nobbut wants another bit o' glass twistin' raand it, an' yo'll find
it's as gooid as iver it wor, an' it's just soa wi' a gooid action; yo
may loise th' seet on it, but it's somewhear abaat; it nobbut wants
circumstances twistin' raand it, an' yo'll find it's thear--it's niver
lost. If fowk 'ud get into this way o' thinkin', ther'd be a deal
moor gooid done nor ther is. Haiver mich brass a chap has, if he's
moor wants nor he con satisfy, he's poor enuff; an' aw think if fowk
'ud spend a bit less time i' tryin' to get rich, an' a bit moor i'
tryin' to lessen ther wants, they'd be moor comfortable bi th' hauf.
But yo' may carry things too far even i' savin'. Aw once knew a chap
'at wor a regular skinflint; he'd gie nowt--noa, net as mich as a
crumb to a burd; an' if iver any wor seen abaat his haase they used to
be sat daan to be young ens 'at hadn't le'nt wit. Well, he once went
to buy a seck o' coils, an' to be able to get 'em cheaper he fetched
'em throo th' pit; it wor th' depth o' winter, but as he had to hug
'em two mile it made th' sweeat roll off him.. When he gate hooam he
put 'em daan an' shook his heead. "By gow," he sed, "awm ommost done,
but aw'll mak' yo' pay for this, for aw willn't burn another coil this
winter." An' he stuck, to his word, an' wheniver he wor starved, he
used to get th' seck o' coils ov his back an' walk raand th' haase
till he gat warm agean--an' he says they're likely to fit him his bit
o' rime aat. "Well," yo'n say, "that chap wor a fooil," an' aw think
soa misen, an' varry likely if he'd seen us do some things he'd think
we wor fooils. We dooant allus see things i'th' same leet--for
instance, a pompus chap wor once tawkin' to me abaat his father. "My
father," he said, "was a carver and gilder, an' he once carved a calf
so naturally that you would fancy you could hear it bleat." "Well, aw
didn't know thi father," aw sed, "but aw know thi mother once cauved
one, for aw've heeard it bleat." Yo' should just ha' seen him when aw
sed soa!--didn't he pull th' blinds daan, crickey!
Progress.
This is the age of progress; and it is not slo progress nawther. The
worst on it is, we're all forced to go on whether we like it or net,
for if we stand still a minit, ther's somedy traidin' ov us heels, an'
unless we move on they'll walk ovver us, an' then when we see them
ommost at top o'th' hill, we shall find us sen grubbin' i'th' muck at
th' bottom. A chap mun have his wits abaat him at this day or else
he'll sooin' be left behund. Ther's some absent minded fowk think
they get on varry weel i'th' owd way an' they're quite content, but
its nobbut becoss they're too absent minded to see ha mich better they
mud ha done if they'd wakken'd up a bit sooiner. Aw once knew a varry
absent minded chap; he wur allus dooin' some sooart o' wrang heeaded
tricks. Aw' remember once we'd booath to sleep i' one bed, an aw gate
in fust, an' when aw luk'd to see if he wor commin', aw'm blow'd! if
he hadn't put his cloas into bed an hung hissen ovver th' cheer back.
Awm sure aw connot tell where all this marchin' is likely to lead us
to at last, but aw hooap we shall be all reight, for aw do think
ther's plenty o' room to mend even yet, but the deuce on it is,'
ther's soa monny different notions abaat what is reight wol aw'm
flamigaster'd amang it. Some say drink is the besetting sin; another
says 'bacca is man's ruination. One says we're all goin' to the devil
becoss we goa to church, an' another says we'st niver goa to heaven if
we goa to th' chapel, but aw dooant let ony o' them things bother me.
'At ther is a deeal o' sin i'th' world aw dooant deny, an', aw think
ther is one 'at just bears th' same relation to other sins as a split
ring bears to a bunch o' keys; it's one 'at all t'other things on: an'
that's _selfishness_, an we've all sadly too mich o' that. We follow
that "number one" doctrine sadly too mich,--iverybody seems bent o'
gettin, but ther's varry few think o' givin'--(unless its advice,
ther's any on 'em ready enuff to give that; but if advice wor stuff
'at they could buy potatoes wi', ther' wodn't be as mich o' that
knockin' abaat for nowt as ther' is).
We're all varry apt to know the messur o' ivrybody's heead but us own;
we can tell when a cap fits them directly, but we con niver tell when
ther's one 'at just fits us. Miss Parsnip said last Sunday, when
shoo'd been to th' chapel, "at shoo wondered ha Mrs. Cauliflaar could
fashion to hold her heead up, for shoo niver heeard a praicher hit
onybody harder in all her life," An' Mrs. Cauliflaar tell'd me "'at if
shoo wor Miss Parsnip shoo'd niver put her heead i' that chapel
ageean, for iverybody knew 'at he meant her' when he wor tawkin' abaat
backbitin'." An'soa it is; we luk at other fowk's faults through th'
thin end o' th' spy glass, but when we want to look at us own, we turn
it raand.
"O, wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us,
It wad fra many a blunder free us
An' foolish notion.
What airs in dress an' g'ait wad lea' us
An' ev'n devotion."
Selfishness may do varry weel for this world, but we should remember
it isn't th gooid one does to hissen 'at he gets rewarded for after--
it's th' gooid he does to others, an' although we may be able to mak'
a spreead here, wi' fine clooas, fine haases, an' sich like; unless we
put selfishness o' one side an' practise charity it'll be noa use
then.
"For up above there's one 'at sees
Through th' heart o' every man;
An' he'll just find thee as tha dees,
Soa dee as well as t' con."
Try Again.
Look around and see the great men
Who have risen from the poor
Some are judges, some are statesmen,
Ther's a chance for you I'm sure.
Don't give in because you're weary,
Pleasure oft is bought by pain;
If unlucky, still be cheery,
Up and at it! _try again_.
Jealousy.
It wad be a poor shop, wad this world, if it worn't for love! But
even love has its drawbacks. If it worn't for love ther'd be noa
jaylussy--Shakspere calls jaylussy a green-eyed monster, an' it may
be for owt aw know, an' aw dooan't think 'at them 'at entertain it
have mich white i' theirs. If ther's owt aw think fooilish, it is
for a husband an' wife to be jaylus o' one another; for it spoils all
ther spooart, an' maks a lot for other fowk; an' aw'm allus a bit
suspicious abaat 'em, for aw've fun it to be th' case 'at them 'at do
reight thersens are allus th' last to believe owt wrang abaat others.
Aw once knew a chap 'at wor jaylus, an' his wife had a sore time wi'
him. If shoo spake to her next-door neighbor, it wor ommost as mich
as her life war worth, an' shoo wor forced to give ovver gooin' to
th' chapel, becos if shoo luk'd at th' parson he used to nudge her
wi' a hymn book. Th' neighbours pitied her, an' set him daan for a
fooil; but he gate cured at last, an' aw'll tell ha.' Once he had to
set off, an' as shoo worn't varry weel he couldn't tak her wi' him,
but he gave her a lot o' directions afoor he went, an' tell'd her 'at
he might be back ony minit. Well, if iver ther war a miserable chap
it wor Jim, wol he wor away; but he coom back as sooin as he could,
an' what should he see but a leet up stairs. His face went as white
as chalk, an' he wor just creepin' to th' winder to harken, when a
chap 'at knew him happened to pass. He knew how jaylus Jim war, soa
he thowt he'd have a lark. "Halla, Jim!" he said, "coom here; aw've
summat to tell thee. Tha munnot goa in yor haase just nah, for tha
ar'nt wanted."
"What ammot aw wanted for, awst like to know?" said Jim.
"Well, keep cooil, an' aw'll tell thi. Tha knows tha's been away a
day or two, an' aw think it's my duty to let thi know 'at last neet
ther wor a young chap coom to yor haase to luk at thi mistress; an'
shoo's niver been aat o; door sin', nor him nawther; an' my belief is
they're in that room together just this minit."
"Aat o' my rooad!" sed Jim, "let me goa in If aw dooant pitch him aat
a' that winder, neck an' crop, my name isn't Jim." Up stairs he
flew. "Nah then, whear is he? whear is he?" he haw'led, an' seized
hold o' th' pooaker.
"Aa, Jim," shoo sed, "Tha wodn't hurt th' child surelee?" an' shoo
held up a bonny little lad abaat two days old, 'at stared at him as
gaumless as gaumless could be, an' 'at had his father's nooas an'
chin to nowt.
"By gingo, aw'm done this time!" said Jim, as he tuk it in his arms
an' kust it. "Aa, what a fooil aw've been! tha'll forgie me, lass,
weant ta?"
"Sure aw will, Jim," shoo sed. An' after that they lived happily
together, as all dacent fowk should.
Winter.
Winter's comin'! Top coits an' nickerbockers begin to be sowt up. A
chap enjoys his bed a bit better, an' doesn't like gettin' up in a
mornin' quite as weel. Tawkin' abaat enjoyin' bed makes me think ova
young chap aat o' Midgley at' gate wed an' browt his wife to Halifax
to buy a bed, an' nowt wod suit her but a shut-up en, like her father
an' mother had allus had: an' they wor't long befoor they fun a
second-hand en, 'at they gate cheap, an' as they knew a chap 'at coam
wi' a milk cart throo near whear they lived, they gate him to tak it
hooam for 'em, an' it worn't long befoor th' beddin' an' all wor
nicely arranged, an' they war snoozelin' under th' blankets. They
hadn't been asleep long befoor he wakken'd wi a varry uncomfortabie
feelin', but as his wife wor hard asleep he didn't like to disturb
her. He roll'd o' one side an' then o'th' tother, an' rub'd his legs
an' scratched his back, but he couldn't settle do what he wod. In a
bit summat made him jump straight up ov an end, an' if he hadn't been
dacently browt up, it's very likely he mud ha' sed some faal words,
Wi' him jumpin' up soa sudden, th' wife wakken'd, an' jumpt up as
weel, but as th' bed heead war abaat six inch lower nor that shoo'd
bin used to, shoo hit her neet cap agean th' top an' fell back wi a
reglar sass. "Whativer is ther to do, Sammy," shoo sed, as sooin as
shoo could spaik, "strike a leet' wi ta!" Sammy gate a leet, an'
blushed an ovver his face, for it wor th' fust time onybody had seen
him dressed that way sin he wor a little lad. "Aw dooant know what
ther is to do," he sed, "but aw cannot bide i' that bed, an' that's a
fact." "What!" shoo says, "are ta ruein' o' thi bargain bi nah? but
tha's no need to freat, for aw con spare thee at ony time." "Nay,
Jenny," he sed, it's nooan thee 'at maks me uneasy, but aw fancy
ther's summat wick i' that bed besides thee an' me.' "Is ther," shoo
said, an' shoo flew off one side; "why whativer is it, thinks ta?"
Sammy turned daan th' clooas, an' it just luk'd as if sombdy had been
aitin' spice cake an' letten all th' currans drop aat. Tawk abaat
fleas! They worn't fleas! they wor twice as big, an' they wor
marchin' away like a rigiment o' sodgers. He stared wi' all th' een
in his heead, an' shoo started a cryin'. "A'a, to think 'at aw
should iver come to this, to be walked over wi' a lot o' pouse like
that! What mun we do?" "Do! we mun catch 'em, aw expect," he sed,
an' he began wi pickin' 'em off one bi one, an' droppin' 'em into
some water 'at wor cloise by. "Well, mi mother tell'd me," he sed,
"'at when fowk gate wed they began o' ther troubles; an' it's true
an' all, but aw didn't expect owt like this, for if aw'd known, aw'd
ha' seen th' weddin' far enough; aw did think 'at a chap wad be able
to get a neet's rest anyway." "Tha can goa back to thi mother," shoo
sed, "an' stop wi' her for owt aw care, an' aw wish tha'd niver left
her, for aw'st get mi deeath o' cold wi' paddlin' abaat wi' nowt on;
but does ta think tha's catched 'em all?" "Aw think soa, an' if tha's
a mind we'll get to bed agean." "Nay, tha can goa to thi mother as
tha freats soa," shoo sed. "Tak noa noatice o' what aw sed," sed
Sammy, "tha knows aw wor put abaat a bit, an' it war all for th' sake
o' thee." "Tha'll tell me owt," shoo sed, "put th' leet aat, an'
let's see if we con get a bit o' gradely sleep." They gate into bed
once more, an' shoo wor off to sleep in a minit, but Sammy wor
rubbin' an' scrattin' hissen. "Wen, aw've heeard tell abaat things
bein' ball proof and bomb proof, but aw niver knew 'at anybody wor
bug proof befoor." Wi' him knockin' abaat soa mich shoo wakken'd
agean. "Nay, Sammy," shoo sed, "aw'm reight fair stawld, it's all
consait, aw'm sure it is." "Consait be hanged!" he bawled aat, "just
feel at that blister an' then tell me if it's all consait." Nowt
could keep awther on 'em 'i bed after that, an' they paraded abaat
all th' neet like two gooasts, wait in' for th' cock crow. Mornin'
did come at last, an' Sammy worn't long befoor' he had th' bed
aatside. "What are ta baan to do wi' it nah?" ax'd his wife. "Aw'm
baan to leave it wheal' it is wol neet," he sed, "an' if they havn't
forgetten which road they coom, aw think ther's as monny as'll be
able to tak it back to Halifax." Next neet they made a bed o'th'
floor, an' slept like tops, an' next mornin' when they gate up, th'
bed wor off. Whether th' cumpny 'at wor in it had taen it or net,
Sammy couldn't tell, but he niver went to seek it. Fowk 'at buy
second-hand beds, _tak warnin._"
Persevere.
If you fail don't be downhearted,
Better times come by-and-by;
Soon you'll find all fears departed,
If you'll only boldly _try_.
He who would climb up a mountain,
Must not sit him down and cry;
At the top you'll find the fountain,
And you'll reach it if you'll _try_.
Though your comrades call it folly,
Persevere, you'll win the day;
Never let Dick, Tom, or Polly,
Stop you on your onward way,
There is always joy in striving,
Though you fix your goal so high;
Nearer every day arriving,
You may reach it if you _try_.
Booith-Taan Election.
_This place 'is nearly a mile from the good old town of Halifax._
Aa! ther wor a flare-up at Booith-Taan Hall that neet! It had been
gein aat 'at they'd to be a meetin' held to elect a new Lord-Mayor,
for New-Taan, Booith-Taan, an' th' Haley Hill, on which particular
occashun, ale ud be supplied at Tuppence a pint upstairs. Ther wor a
rare muster an' a gooid deeal o' argyfyin' tuk place abaat who shud be
th' chearman. But one on 'em--a sly old fox--had kept standin' o' th'
floor sidlin' abaat woll ivery other chear wor full, an' then after
takkin a pinch o' snuff, he said, "Gentlemen, aw see noa reason aw
shuddent tak this place mysen, as iverybody else has getten set daan."
Two or three 'at wor his friends said "Hear, hear," an' two or three
'at worn't said "Sensashun!"
When iverybody's pint had getten fill'd, he blew his nooas, tuk
another pinch o' snuff, an' stud ov his hind legs to oppen th'
proceedins. "Bergers and Bergeresses," he began, "aw've a varry
unpleasant duty to perform to-neet, which is, namely, to propooas 'at
we have a fresh mayor," (Cries ov "Shame," "Gammon," "Th' mayor we
have is ommost allus fresh!" (etsetra, etsetra etsetra.) "Gentlemen,"
he began agean, "what aw have to say is this,"--
"Luk sharp an get it said, then," said Stander, th' grocer.
"If tha doesn't hold thy noise, Stander, tha'll get noa moor snuff off
me, aw con tell thi that; aw mayn't be as flaary a talker as thee, but
what aw say is to'th' point, an' aw think 'at a constituency like
Booith-Taan owt to be represented by somebody ov standin'."
"Better send th' chearman, he's stud den long enuft," said one.
"Prathi sit thi daan, if tha connot talk sense,"
said another.
"Its's time for sombdy to stand summat, for all th' pints is empty,"
said th' lanlord.
"Well, gentlemen," went on th' chearman, "th' question just dissolves
itsel' into this: Who has it to be? Has it to be a Doctor sombdy, or
a Professor sombdy, or a Squire sombdy, or has it to be a plain
Maister?"
"Oh I let it be a Squire," said one. "E'ea, Squire Broadbent ul do,"
said another.
"Nah, lads, yo' 'Ie heeard th' chearman's resolushun, an' aw sit daan
to call upon Mr. Stander, Esquire, grocer, to address yo."
Th' chearman doubled hissel' into th' shape ov his chear, an' after
they'd gein ovver pawsin' th' table legs, an' knockin' pint pots,
Stander gate up an' began.
"Fellow Municipallers (hear, hear), aw agree wi' what awr chearman
says, 'at we owt to have sombdy o' standin' i' society to represent us
for this subsequent year 'at's forthcomin'."
"Tha happen want's to get one o' thi own relations in," said Snittle.
"It ud seem thee better to keep thi maath shut, Snittle, till tha's
paid me for yond Garman Yeast."--(Shame, shame.)
"Gentlemen, aw propooas 'at this meetin' dissolves itsel' into a
depitation to visit Professor Holloway, to ax him if he'll represent
us for th' next year. Aw dooant know him mysen, but we've all heeard
tell on him, an' we've seen his pills an' ointment advertised, an' aw
think he'd be a varry likely man to work awr business to th' best
interest ov the whole communicants; an' noa daat he'd be able to heal
up ony bits o' unpleasantness 'at's been caused wi' this election. Aw
believe him to be a varry pushin' man, an' one ov a spyring natur; for
as Elijah Barrett says (i' his book on leeanin' to blacksmith), 'One
inch the heighest,' seems to be the motto he works on, for goa where
yo will yo'll allus see one o' his bills a bit heigher nor onybody's
else, an for that reason aw beg to propooas 'at he should be acceptted
as a fit an' proper person.
The chearman stood up an' axed "ony chap to I say owt agean that 'at
dar." Up jumped Billy Bartle, an' said, "Aw object to that in total;
aw see noa reason to goa to Lunnon to find a mayor, soa long as
we've professors at hooam, an aw propoosas 'at we ax--" ("Shut up!
shut up!" "Ta' hold, an' sup." "Gooid lad, Billy,") etsetra,
etsetra. etsetra.
Just then th' lanlord coom in an' turn'd off th' gas, for he said
"they hadn't spent aboon eighteen pence all th' neet."
Th' chearman said he thowt they couldn't do better nor all have a
pinch o' snuff wi' him, an' have a pint i'th' kitchen woll they talked
things ovver; soa they went daan th' stairs, an' somha they managed to
re-elect th' owd en afoor they went hooam, an' six on em hugged him o'
ther heeads to th' top o' Ringby, an' niver heed if ther heeads didn't
wark th' next mornin'.
Election.
Candidates at an election allus reminds me ov a lot o' bees turned
aat, for they fly abaat th' country buzzin' an' hummin', wol yor fair
capt what a din they con mak; but as sooin as they pop into th' hive
o' St. Stephen's yo niver hear a muff--they're as quite as waxwark.
Aw varrily believe 'at one hauf on 'em niver oppen the maath throo th'
yaar end to year end, nobbut when they're sleepy, then they may gape a
bit, but they do it as quiet as they can. As for them chaps 'at tawk
soa mich befoor they goa, abaat passin' laws to give iverybody a paand
a wick whether they work or laik, an' reducin' th' workin haars to
three haars a day an' three days a wick: Why, its just gammon!
None think Alike.
What suits one body doesn't suit another. Aw niver knew two fowk 'at
allus thowt alike; an' if yo iver heard a poor chap talkin' abaat
somebdy 'ats weel off, he's sure to say 'at if he'd his brass he'd do
different throo what they do.
Aw once heeard a chap say 'at if he'd as mich brass as Baron
Rothschild he'd niver do owt but ait beef-steaks an' ride i' cabs.
Well, lad, aw thowt, it's better tha hasn't it. We're all varry apt
to find fault wi' things at we know varry little abaat, an' happen if
we knew mooar we shud say less. Aw once heeard two lasses talkin',
an' one on 'em war tellin' tother 'at sin shoo saw her befoor, shoo'd
getten wed, an' had a child, an' buried it. "Why, whativer shall aw
live to hear? Aw didn't know 'at tha'd begun coortin'. Whoiver has ta
getten wed to?" "Oh, awve getten wed to a forriner, at comes throo
Staffordshur."
"Well, aw hooap, tha's done weel, lass; awm sure aw do. And what does
he do for a livin'?" "Why, its rayther a queer trade; but he stails
pots." "Stails pots, Betty! A'a aw wonder ha tha could bring thisen
daan to wed a chap o' that sooart. Aw'll keep single for iver, woll
awm green maald, afoor aw'll wed ony chap unless he gets his livin'
honestly." "Aw should like to meet ony body 'at says he doesn't get
his livin' honestly," says Betty; "nah thee mark that." "Well, Betty,
that maks noa difference to me; but aw say agean 'at noa chap gets his
livin' honestly 'at stails--noa matter whether he stails pots or
parkins." "Why, Nancy, aw thowt tha'd moor sense, aw did for sure;--
aw mean, his trade is to put stails on to pots." "Oh! A'a! E'e! tha
mun forgi' mi this time, Betty, aw see what tha meeans; he puts hanels
on to pots: that's it, isn't it." "E'ea." "Why, tha sees, aw didn't
understond." "Ther's monny a one has a deeal to say abaat things 'at
they dunnot understond, an' monny a one gets awfully put aat wi' what
sich like do say; but it isn't advisable to be soa varry touchus at
this day, an' as aw've read somwhear--
Time to me this truth has towt,
'Tis a truth 'at's worth revealin';
Moor offend for want o' thowt
Nor for any want o' feelin'.
An' aw believe that's true; but at th' same time it's as weel to be
careful net to offend onybody if we con help it, for a chap's fingers
luk a deeal nicer, an' moor agreeabler, when they're oppened aat to
shake hands wi yo, nor what they do when doubled up i'th' front o' yor
nooas. Soa yo see, yo connot be to careful o' yor words an' deeds, if
yo want to keep straight wi' fowk; an' it's a wise thing to be at
peeace. And if this is a unsettled time o' th' year, that's noa
reason 'at yo should be unsettled. But as it isn't iverybody's lot to
know ha to get on smoothly, aw'll just give yo a bit o' advice; an' if
yo learn that, an' act on it, yo'll niver rue th' brass yo've spent,
especially if yo tak into consideration at th' profits are devoted to
a charitable institution (that's awr haase).
If wisdom's ways you'd wisely seek,
Five things observe with care;
Of whom you speak, to whom you speak,
And how, and when, and where.
Seaside.