May is abaat th' warst pairt o'th' year for a wed chap, for he connot
walk aat, an' he cannot be comfortable at hooam, becoss it's th'
cleeanin' daan time. Talk abaat weshin' days! they're fooils to
cleeanin' days. Buckstun lime an' whitewesh, bees-wax an' turpitine--
black-leead an' idleback, stare a chap i' th' face ivery where. Pots
an' pans--weshin' bowls an' peggy tubs, winteredges an' clooas lines--
brooms an' besoms--dish claots an' map claots, block up ivery nook
an' corner; an' if iver ther is a time when a chap darn't spaik it's
then. If he thinks th' haase is cleean enuff, an' doesn't want owt
dooin' at, his wife's sure to call him a mucky haand, an' say 'at he
wodn't care if he wor up to th' shoo tops i' filth; an' if he says he
thinks it wants a cleean, shoo'll varry sooin ax him if he can tell
her whear ther's another haase as cleean, for shoo doesn't know one,
an' if he does, he's welcome to goa. But it all ends i' th' same
thing--its th' time o' th' year for a reight upset, an' it 'll ha to
have it, whether it wants it or net. Ther's noa way to suit a woman
at sich times, but to be as quiet as yo can. If yo say, "Come, lass,
con aw help thi a bit," shoo's sure to snap at yo, as if shoo'd bite
yor heead off, an' tell yo to get aat ov her gate, for yor allus under
her nooas, woll shoo can do nowt. An' if yo goa aat o'th' gate,
shoo'll ax yo as sooin as yo come in, ha yo can fashion to spend' yor
time gaddin abaat when yo know ha things is at hooam, an' you dooant
care th' toss ov a button for her, but just mak her into a slave, an'
niver think o' sich a thing as liggin' on a helpin' hand. Ther's noa
way to do but to bide it as weel as yo can, an' say little, for it
doesn't last long. But even when its ovver, yo mun be careful what yo
say, for if yo tell her yo think it luks better for th' labor, shoo's
sure to say at "shoo sees varry little difference, an' shoo wor fare
capt, for ivery thing wor as cleean as a pin." An' if yo say yo can
see noa difference, shoo'll say, "Tha can see nowtt,"--but shoo knows
whether its different or net, for shoo's taen aboon a barra' looad o'
muck aat o' that haase that wick. Soa my advice is, to say nowt at
sich times till yo're axed, an then say as they say. Aw once heeard
ov a young couple at wor baan to get wed, an' they made it up allus to
say an' think alike, an' then they'd be sure net to fall aat; soa they
went to th' church an' gate made man an wife, an' as they wor walkin'
hooam he said, "Aw think this is th' happiest day o' awr lives."
"E'ea," shoo says, "aw think it is." "Aw think we shall have some
rain afoor long," he said. "E'ea," shoo says, "aw think it luks
likely for weet." "A'a did ta iver see a faaler bonnet nor that lass
has on," shoo said? "Noa lass, aw think aw niver did," he replied;
"but what a bonny lass shoo is, isn't shoo?" "Nay, nobbut middlin',"
shoo says. "Well aw think her a beauty." "Aw wonder where tha luks,"
shoo said, "but if tha'rt soa taen wi' her, tha con have her astead o'
me." "Nay, lass," he said, "tha knows we've agreed allus to think an'
say alike, an' awm sure shoo's a varry bonny lass." "Well an' awm
sure shoo's as plain a stick as iver aw saw i' all my life, an' if aw
agree to say an' think what tha does, it wor cos aw thowt tha wor
reight i' thi heead." Soa they walk'd hooam lukkin varry glum, an'
differ'd for th' futer same as other fowk. When a chap gets wed he
should be ready for th' warst. Aw once knew a chap at fell i' love wi
a woman 'at he met in a railway train, an' as they lived a long way
apart, they did ther coortin i' writin' an' at last th' day wor fixed
for 'em to get wed. Joa went to fotch her an' walk her to th' church,
an' as they wor gooin' he thowt shoo walked rayther queer, soa he
says, "Susy, does ta limp?" "Limp!" shoo says, "net aw, aw limp
noan." Soa they went on, an' just as they wor gooin' into th' church,
he said, "Susy, awm sure tha seems to limp." "A'a, Joa," shoo says,
"aw wonder what tha'll say next." Soa Joa an' Susy gate wed. When
they wor gooin hooam he said, "Susy, awm sure tha limps." "Aw know aw
limp," shoo says, "aw allus limp'd; is a woman ony war for limpin'?"