Yorksher Puddin Part 8

The nurse took Lord John, and the doctors stood round, And examined the child and his clothes; Whilst a fussy physician, with looks most profound, Wiped his aristocratical nose.

"It is, I declare, most uncommonly fair, And its voice, oh! how sweet when it cries; It really would seem like the child of a dream, Or an angel just dropt from the skies."

Now, it seems very strange, &c.

Now, poor Johnny Lord and his mother were laid, Both fainting and cold on the straw; No doctors would come there unless they were paid, Or compelled to be there by the law.

No comforting word heard poor Mistress Lord, As o'er her babe bending she sat, And each one who saw it cried with one accord, "What a little detestable brat."

Now, it seems very strange, &c.

The two babes became men as the years rolled away.

And Lord John sported carriage and pair, Whilst poor Johnny Lord working hard for poor pay, Was content with what fell to his share.

Lord John went to races, to b.a.l.l.s and to routs, And squandered his wealth with the gay, Till at last came the reaper, and sought them both out, And took Lord John and John Lord away.

Now, it seems very strange, &c.

Very soon a grand monument stood o'er Lord John, To show where the great man was laid, But over John Lord was no mark and no stone, It was left as when left by the spade.

But the time yet shall come when John Lord and Lord John Shall meet in the realms far away, When the riches and t.i.tles of earth are all gone, Then which will be greatest, friends, say?

Then, though it seems strange, yet it's true what you've heard, And a lesson throughout it is cast, Which should comfort the poor working men like John Lord, For we all shall be equal at last.

As sooin as he'd finished quaverin on th' last noat but one, ther wor sich a knockin o' gla.s.ses an' thump in o' fists, wol th' lonlady coom in agean, an' th' cheerman felt it his duty to order "as befoor," which order th' lonlady worn't long i' executin. "Gooid lad! c.o.c.ky!" sed Ike, "if aw'd a voice like thee aw'd travel! Tawk abaat Sims Reeves! He niver sang a song like that sin he wor creddled! Nah Maister Cheerman, keep up th' harmony, we're mendin on it aw'm sure. 'Gow, aw'll have another pipe o' bacca o' th' heead on it' nay, raylee, aw niver did hear sich a song," savin which he sat daan an' hid his astonishment behund a claad o' reek.

"Well," sed th' cheerman, "as Ike seems soa anxious, aw think he'd better try an' let's see what he con do." "Hear, hear!" on all sides, an' two or three pulled him up whether he wod or net, an' after a gooid deal o' sidelin abaat, he axed if he mud have his cap on, for he could niver sing withaat cap. "That's to keep th' mewsic throo flyin aght o'th' top ov his heead," sed one. "Order!" sed th' cheerman, "if Ike wants his cap on let him have it, may be he'll loise th' air withaat it."

Ike luk'd very solid for a minit, an' then he struck a lively tune in a voice abaat as musical as a saw sharpener.

Let us have a jolly spree, An' wi' joy an' harmonie, Let the merry moments flee, For mi love's come back.

O, the days did slowly pa.s.s, When aw'd lost mi little la.s.s, But nah we'll have a gla.s.s, For mi love's come back.

O, shoo left me in a hig, An' shoo didn't care a fig, But nah aw'll donce a jig, For mi love's come back.

An' aw know though far away, 'At her heart neer went astray, An' awst iver bless the day, For mi love's come back.

When shoo ax'd me yesterneet What made mi heart so leet, Aw says, "why can't ta see it's 'Coss mi love's come back."

Then aw gave her just a kiss, An' shoo tuk it noan amiss An' aw'm feear'd aw'st brust wi' bliss, For mi love's come back.

Nah aw'm gooin to buy a ring, An' a creddle an' a swing, Ther's noa tellin what may spring, For mi' love's come back.

O, aw niver thowt befoor 'At sich joy could be i' stoor, But nah aw'l grieve noa moor, For mi love's come back.

As mud ha been expected, they applauded Ike famously, but th' cheerman wor hard asleep agean, an' it tuk a gooid shakkin to wakken him, an'

then he didn't seem to be altogether thear, an' as sooin as they left him aloan he dropt on agean.

"Aw think th' cheerman's ommost sewed up," sed Ike. "Net he! he's noan sewed up," sed Mosslump, "it's that song o' thine 'at's sent him to sleep! who the shames does ta think could keep wakken for sich a song as that? aw knew tha'd do it as sooin as aw heeard thi begin." "Come, aw'll sing thee for a quairt any day," sed Ike, "tha fancies coss tha'd once a uncle 'at could sing a bit, 'at ther's some mewsic born i' thee; but if aw'd a public haase aw wodn't let thee sing in it for a paand, for aw'll bet tha'd turn all th' ale saar." "Tha am't worth tawkin to, Ike, an' as for thee havin a voice, Why! tha arn't fit to hawk c.o.c.kles an' mussels." "Well, an if aw did hawk 'em aw'd tak gooid care aw didn't sell thee ony unless aw gate th' bra.s.s befoorhand, soa tha can crack that nut." "Does ta mean to say 'at aw dooant pay mi way? aw've moor bra.s.s commin in ivery day nor tha can addle in a wick." Aw saw it luk'd likely for a row brewin, soa aw sed, "nah chaps, we've had a verry nice evening soa far, an' aw shouldn't like ony unpleasantness, for yo see th' cheerman's had a drop too much, an' aw think we owt to try to get him hooam if ony body knows wheear he lives." "Eea!" sed one chap 'at had been varry quite all th' neet, "aw dooant think he'll pay for owt ony moor, soa we mud as weel get shut on him." "Ther's Frank standin'

at th' corner," sed another "aw dar say he'll tak him." "Who's Frank, aw asked." "O, it's a donkey 'at they call Frank," sed Ike, "th' chap 'at bowt him had him kursened Frank i' honor o' Frank Crossley bein made a member o' parliment." "Varry weel," aw sed, "then let's get him onto it." One or two came to give a lift, an' wi' a bit o' trouble we gate him aghtside. Th' donkey wor thear, but as ther wor a gurt milk can o'

each side on it, aw couldn't see exactly ha to put this chap on. "O,"

sed Ike, "he'll ride nicely between' em," soa we hoisted him up, an'

gave th' chap 'at belang'd donkey a shilling to see him safe hooam. Off they went at a jog trot, an' aw fancy if he'd niver known owt abaat th'

can can befoor, 'at he'd have a varry lively noation o' what it meant befoor he'd gooan two mile daan th' hill. When we'd getten him away, some o'th chaps went back into th' haase, but aw thowt my wisest plan wor to steer straight for hooam, which aw did, an' although aw believe my old woman had prepared a dish o' tongue for mi supper, as aw went straight to bed an' fell asleep, aw'm net exactly sure whether aw gate it or net. When aw wakken'd next mornin, aw began thinking abaat th'

neet befoor, an' aw coom to th' conclusion, 'at "Widdop's Rest" might be all varry weel once in a way, but if a chap had weary booans, he'd be able to rest a deal better in a comfortable bed at hooam.

Tinklin' Tom.

Some time ago I was accidentally thrown into the im company of a number of workmen, who were just wondering how to pa.s.s the remainder of the dinner hour agreeably; and, as they were all indulging in the favourite after dinner pipe, with one exception, it was proposed that this one, whom they called Amos, should tell them one of his stories. Amos, nothing loth, and, evidently accustomed to occupy the position of a story teller, without any apology commenced:--

"Nah, aw dooan't think for a minit, 'at yo all knew this tinklin' Tommy, 'at aw'm gooin to tell yo abaght. Nowt o'th' soort! Its net to be expected! But aw dar say yo've all known a tinklin chap o' some sooart--one o' them 'ats allus boddin an' doin jobs they niver sarved ther time to--a sooart o' jack-o'-all-trades, one 'at con turn his hand to owt ommost. Nah, aw like a chap o' that sooart, if he doesn't carry things too far: but when he begins to say 'at he con build a haase as weel as a mason, an' mak a kist o' drawers as weel as a joiner, or praich a sarmon as weel as th' parson--or playa bazzoon, or spetch a pair o' clogs better nor ony man breathin--then, aw say, tak care an'

ha' nowt to do wi' him. It isn't i'th' natur ov ony body to be able to do ivery thing, an' yo 'll oft find 'at them 'at con do all bi ther tawk, con varry seldom do owt reight.

This Tinklin Tom, 'at aw knew, lived at Northaaram, an' he'd managed to mak fowk believe 'at he wor a varry cliver chap, an' whoiver wanted owt doin they wor sure to send for Tom; an' varry oft he did better nor like, to say 'at he had to do it aght ov his own heead; an' if iver he made a mess o' owt, it wor sure to be th' fault o' th' stuff, or else them 'at held th' leet: it wor niver Tommy's.

It happened one time 'at Tom had a bit o' spare time ov his hands, soa he went up to th' aleus to get a pint o' drink, singing as he went, "Ye lads an' la.s.ses so blithe an' gay, come to the 'Woodlands,' come away."

"Hallo, Tom," said th' landlord, "tha'rt just th' chicken aw wor wantin!

Tha mun gi' us a lift, wi' ta?"

"A lift! What does ta mean? What is it tha wants liftin? Aw dar say aw con do mi share, for aw've seen th' time when ther worn't a chap i'

Awrram 'at could lift as mich as me."

Why, Tom! aw'm capt tha hasn't heeard! Doesn't ta knaw 'at we're goin to have a grand tea-drinkin up stairs to neet, an' a grand ball ta finish off wi'?"

"Noa, ther's niver noabdy tells me owt," says Tom.

"Well, aw thowt tha knew all abaght it--its to be a furst rate doo; tickets to be a shillin a piece, an' them 'at taks two con have' em for one an' ninepence; an' we're gooin to have a peanner, for tha knaws noa beershop's thowt respectable nah, unless ther's a peanner i' th' chamer an' an ale pump i'th' bar, soa as aw dooan't want to be behund other fowk, aw've borrowed one ov a musichener 'at keeps a shop, an' a grand un it is as iver tha clapt thi een on."

"What is it made on?" says Tom.

"Aw dooan't knaw reightly, but aw think its awther mogny or wallmuck--aw forget whether; but there it is. Luk! Sithee!" he sed, runnin to th'

winder, "come help us to get it in."

They booath ran aght to help th' lads at bad browt it, to get it off th'

spring cart, an' they varry sooin had it inside. As sooin as Tom an' th'

landlord wor left to thersen, they began to try to get it upstairs; but they'd a job; they gat it up a step or two, an' thear it stuck.

"Nah, then!" sed Tom, for he wor at th' top side, "nab then, lift! howd on! lift! lift! howd on! lift! What th' shames are ta dooin?"

"Aw'm liftin," sed th' landlord, "what should aw be dooin, thinks ta?"

"Well, try agean," says Tom, "nah then, lift! lift! Oh-h-h! Howd on!

what the hangmit are ta doin?"

"What's up?" says th' landlord.

"Can't ta see, lumpheead! tha's ommost brokken mi fingers ageean that step!"

"Tha should keep thi fingers aght o'th' gate, an' then they willn't get brokken."

"If tha doesn't mind what tha'rt saying, aw 'll pitch booath thee an' it to th' botham; an' it will ha' to goa thear yet, for it'll niver come up this way. They must be fooils 'at mak stuff ta big ta get up th' steps.

Aw once made a mangel 'at aw could tak up steps hauf this width."

"Well, its net gooin up, that's plain enuff, Tom, soa what mun we do nah?"