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Yorkshire Tales Volume I Part 7

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Force of Example

Last May Mr. Goosequill, attorney-at-law, liberally forgave a poor widow the expenses of a trial in which he had been engaged. It is a singular fact that a tom-cat, which had been for years in the gentleman's family, having caught a mouse, let it go for pity's sake the following day.

Gunpaader Plot

Squibs an' crackers! Starleets an' catterin wheels! Bunfires an'

traikle parkin! This is th' time for a bit ov a jollification. Guy Fawkes did a gooid turn, after all, when he tried to blow th'

Parliament haase up; for we should ha' had one spree less i' the' year but for him. Ax twenty fowk this question o' th' fourth o' November, "Are yo gooin to buy ony fireworks this year?" an aw dar be bun to say yo willn't find one i'th' lot but what'll say "Aw've summat else to do wi' my bra.s.s nor to waste it o' sich like fooilery as that." An'

still, aw'll wager at nineteen on 'em buy some after all. Ther's a deal o' difference i'th way they spend it. I' th' country they all sit raand th' fire wi' their parkin an' milk' or else rooasted puttaties, an' they tell tales, an' they laf an' talk till they've varry near burned ther shoo toas off, an' getten soa starved o' ther back 'at they willn't be shut ov a cold for a month; but i'th' taan there's allus th' mooast to do i'th' public haases. Aw think aw shall niver forget a marlock we had th' last plot. It wor in a public haase somewhere between "Spice Cake-loin" an' Whisk.u.m Dandy; ther wor a raam full o' fowk, an' aw nooatised 'at iverybody's pockets wor swelled aat, an' thinks aw, aw shouldn't be capp'd if ther wor a dust here in a while. They just wanted somdy to start. In a bit one on 'em gate up to goa aat, an' th' landlord (he'd a cork leg) drop'd a cracker into his pocket. He hadn't gooan far when bang it went; he turns back an'

leets abaat two dozzen an' sends 'em in to th' middle o'th' raam.

"Nah, lads! for G.o.d's sake show a bit o' sense," says th' landlord, "dooant begin sich like wark as that i' this raam, nah dooant." He mud as weel ha' just whistled jigs to a mile-stoop; aat coom iverybody's stock, an' i' less nor hauf a minit ther wor sich a hullabaloo i' that shop as aw niver heeared afoor. To mak matters war, somdy had shut th' door an' fesened it, an' th' place wor full o'

rick, an iverybody ommost chooak'd. Aw gate under th' seat, an' in a bit somdy smashes th' window an' bawls aat "fire! fire!" I' two or three minits ther coom a stream o' watter into th' raam as thick as my shackle, an' smash went th' chandilleer. Th' landlord wor mad ommost--lukkin gla.s.ses an' picters went one after tother, an' aw faand aat 'as aw couldn't swim, aw should ha' to shift, or else aw should be draaned. Some kind soul managed to braik th' door daan an' we gate aat, but aw could hear th' landlord yelling aat 'at sombdy had stown his cork leg. Ha' they went on aw dooant know, for aw steered straight hooam.

At abaat six o'clock th' next morning, as aw went to my wark, aw saw a cork leg with a varry good booit on it, hangin' to a gas lamp, an aw wonder'd whose it wor.

Th' Last Month

Th' last month o' th' year; an' ther's summat rayther sorrowful abaat th' last o' owt, exceptin' trouble; an' still to me ther's allus summat varry interestin' abaat owt at's "th' last." Aw've watched men when they've been buildin' a long chimley, but aw've niver felt mich interest till it's come th' time for 'em to put on th' last stooan; they've labored day by day, riskin boath life an' limb, an' still aw've felt varry little anxiety; but it's just th' fact on it bein'

th' last stooan; an' aw've hardly been able to tak my een off it till it's been finished an' th' last man's come safe daan. But still it's a sorrowful saandin' word is "last." Th' last farewell--th' last look--th' last breath--an' th' last restin, place; it sets fowk thinkin what there'll be after "th' last." Th' last month i'th' year isn't a bad time to luk back an' see ha we've spent th' past eleven, an' aw think ther's few but what'll be able to see monny a place where they've missed it. An' if soa we'd better mak th' best o'th' few days left to mak what amends we can. Owd Christmas comes in smilin', with his holly an' his mistletoe, an' his gooid tempered face surraanded wi' steam of plum puddin' an' roast beef--tables get tested what weight they can bear--owd fowk an' young ens exchange greetin's, punch bowls steam up; an' lemons an' nutmegs suffer theresen to be rubbed, scrubbed, sliced, an' stewed; an' iverybody at can, seems to be jolly at Christmas. Some fowk luk forrard to Christmas just for th' sake of a gooid feed, an' aw've seen odd ens, nah an' then, 'at can tuck it in i' fine style. Aw recollect one Christmas when Jooan o' Jenny's (we used to call him Jooan long stummack) went to London (he'd one o'th'

best twists aw iver met wi'), an' he wor takken varry wamley for want ov a bit ov a bitin on, soa he went into a cook's shop an' ax'd 'em ha mich they'd mak him a dinner for? "Eighteenpence, sur," said th'

maister, "come, sit daan an' help thisen." Soa he sat daan just at th' front ov a lump o' rooast beef, an' cut a piece off as big as a brick, an' he worn't lang i' polishin' that an' cutting another. Th'

landlord wor rayther capped when he saw it goa like that, an' he says "Tha'rt hungary, lad, aw think! Will ta have, summat to sup?" "Noa thank yo, sur," says Jooan, "not just yet." He varry sooin put th'

second lot where it could keep th' furst company, an' began cuttin' a third; this made th' maister seem varry uneasy, an' he says, "Tha'd better have summat to sup, lad! Mun aw fotch thi a pint o' drink?"

"Noa, thank yo," said Jooan, "aw mak a practice niver to sup till aw've hauf, done." "Why, lad," says th' landlord, "haitch will ta tak'

to drop it?" "Well" said Jooan, "if yo dooant like my company aw'm sooary aw've come, but aw shouldn't like to leave this table for less nor hauf a craan, if aw do aw shall be a loiser." Th' old chap pooled awt hauf a craan an' banged it on to th' table, an' says, "Tak' it, an' tak' thisen away, an' niver put thi fooit i' my haase agean as long as tha's a day to live; tha'd ruin me in a wick." "Why, maister," he says, "yo cap me sayin' soa, for aw can't ait as mich bi a caah head as once aw cud. Aw'll tak' th' hauf crawn; gooid day, maister; you've made a shillin 'at me."

Mediated Strike

At a meeting of the tax-collectors of the W--- R---g of ---shire, held in one of the cells beneath the Town Hall it was proposed, "That we, the tax gatherers and rate collectors of the W--- R---g of ---shire do intend to throw up our offices, unless our wages are reduced or our labours increased, for being like unto other men, possessed of consciences, we are frequently tormented with the thought, that we are receiving more than what is our due, and by that means wronging the public." Mr. Christopher Delphian moved as an amendment, "that they should dispose of their consciences, that being a readier way of getting over the difficulty." The chairman put the amendment which was carried, and the consciences were sold in one lot, for 7 3/4 d., which was carried to the fund for the entertainment of Mr. Calcraft, the president, whenever he should visit the district on a professional tour.

New Year's Parties

Its net oft at aw have mich to do wi' parties. Th' fact is aw'm wed, an' young fowk dooant want me, becoss they say aw've made my markets, an' wed fowk dooant oft ax me becoss aw suppose aw dooant oft ax them.

But this month last year aw did get a invite to a doo, an' aw went.

Aw'st net forget in a hurry what a fidget my owd woman gate into.

Shoo brushed me daan aboon a duzzen times, an' turned me raand like a rooastin jack to see ha aw luk'd, woll aw wor as mazy as a wheel heead, an' th' childer luk'd up i' my face two or three times afoor they could believe it wor me. Aw heeard awr Abram telling Betty 'at "he believed his fayther wor gooin to get kursen'd or summat." "Ho eeah! why what are they baan to call him?" shoo says. "Nay, aw dooant know, but my mother's been callin' him 'gaumless,' happen that's it."

Gaumless enuff aw thowt, an' after rubbin' my hat raand wi' a weet sponge (woll th' wife declared it wor as hansum as a j.a.pan tea caddy), aw set off. Aw seized howd o'th' n.o.b when aw gate to th' door, an' aw gave a gooid pawse, same as aw do at hooam, A fine young gentleman oppen'd it, an' after starin' at me for two or three minits, he said, "Walk in, sur." Aw doff'd my hat an' did soa; an' he! what a smell!

"By gow, lad," aw said, "its enuff to mak my maath watter is this, ther's nowt awm fonder on nor onions, an' aw con smell ther's some cookin'--they'll be frying some liver, aw dar say. Are ta th'

maister's lad?" aw axed. "Noa, sur," he said; "a'wm th' waiter."

"Why tha needn't wait o' me," aw said, "aw'll luk after mysel."

"Come this way, sur." he said, "aw'll introduce yo'. What name shall aw say, sur?" "Does ta think aw am not known?" aw says; "nah aw'll tell thi what it is: if tha keeps diddlin after me like tha has done sin' aw come in, as if tha thowt aw wanted to stail summat, awst just twist thi neck raand." Th' maister heeard me tawkin, an' coom to shake hands wi' me, smilin' all ovver his face delightedly. He hook'd his arm i' mine, an' walked me into a grand raam full o' ladies an'

waiters (aw made 'em aat to be waiters coss they wor dressed like him 'at stood at th' door.) "This is my old friend, the Almenack maker,"

he said, an' they all gate up an' sat daan agean. When aw luk'd raand aw thowt, "Aw'm in for it this time," for aw could mak it aat to be nowt but a meetin' to kursen a lot o' childer', an' varry likely they wanted me to stand G.o.dfayther for 'em. Aw saw noa babbies ony-where, but then aw'd heeard fowk tell abaat th' quality havin' weet nurses for ther bairns, an' aw made it aat 'at thease must be um, on accaant o'th' way they wor dressed, for they wor all i' white, an' ther's nowt easier weshed, an' aw thowt to mysen, "Aw'll tell my owd woman to have her gaon made i' th' same pattern when shoo's ony more to suckle, for it must save a deal o' trouble, an' be for ivver better nor havin' a lot o' hooks an' eyes botherin' abaat th' child's face." But thear aw sat, an' as noabody said owt to me, aw said nowt to noabody. In a bit ivery body began pairin' off, an' th' maister says, "Come, my friend, you must take a lady to dinner," an' a reight grand young woman coom an' tuk howd o' mi arm, an' we follow'd aat i' prussesshun, like they do at a burrin. When we gate into th' next raam aw fan aat mi mistak abaat all th' chaps being waiters, for they sat daan to th' table same as th' maister an' me, soa aw thowt varry likely they wor locals, or summat i'th' missionary line. Aw niver saw as mich stuff to ait i'

all my life, except in a cook shop. "Shall I pa.s.s you a little soup,"

said th' maister? "Noa, thank yo," aw said, "aw weshed me afoor aw coom." "Not soap, my good friend, I mean soup," he said. "Oh! broth, is it? Aw did'nt know what yo ment. Eeah, aw'll tak a soop o' broth, if yo please, an' a bit o' suet dumplin,' if yo have a bit." When aw said soa, a lot began a cough in', the same as if they'd a boan i'

ther throit, an' th' maister oppened sich a shop 'at aw thowt th' top ov his heead had come off, but aw reckoned to tak noa noatice an' aw worked away wi my gapin' stick woll th' maister axed me ha aw liked my ox tail soup. "Dun yo call this ox tail soup," aw said, an' aw beld up a caah tooith ommust big enuff to mak a knife heft. Aw thowt it war a gooid joak, but noabody else seem'd to see it, an' th' mistress ordered th' waiter to tak it away instantum.

When we'd all etten woll we' wor om most brussen they browt a lot o'

black bottles wi' silver necks in, an' we'd all a gla.s.s o' some sooart o' pop. By th' heart an' it wor pop too. "Dun yo mak this yoursen, mistress?" aw axed. "By gingo, this licks awr traitle drink into fits, yo mun give me th' resait, if yo have it." "This is shampane, sur,"

shoo said. "Aw dooant care whether it's sham or not, it's as gooid as owt o'th' sooart aw've tasted, aw'll thank you for another drop,"

"Help yourself, my friend," said th' maister, an aw did, aboon a bit, but ha long aw wor at it or ha monny bottles aw emptied aw niver knew, for some ha aw fell asleep, an' when aw wakken'd aw wor at hooam, an' my owd wornan wor callin aat, "Are ta baan'ta get up, yond's th' last whew."

Smiles, Tears, Getting on.

Smiles are things aw like to see, an'. they're noa less acceptable becoss sometimes ther's a tear or two. A chap at's a heart ov a reight sooart under his waistcoit cannot allus be smilin'. Awve met a deal o' sooarts o' fowk i' my bit o' time, an' th' best aw iver met had a tear i' ther ee nah an' then. If ther's owt aw hate to see, its a chap at's allus smilin'; an' if iver yo meet sich a one set him daan to be awther a haufthick or a hypocrite--yo'll be sure to be reight.

It'll be time enuff to be allus grinnin' when all th' warkhaases an'

th' prisons are to let--when lawyers have to turn farmers, an'

b.u.mbaileys have to emigrate--when yo connot find a soldier's or a policeman's suit ov clooas, except in a museum--when ther's noa chllder fun frozen to th' deeath o' London Brig--an' when poor fowk get more beef an' less bullyin'. If iver sich a time comes woll aw live, aw'll laff wi' th' best on em, but till then a claad sometimes will settle on mi here,--an awm glad 'at it is soa.

Aw niver see a chap 'at's tryin to get on but what he reminds me ov once gooin to a Baptist chapel to see a lot o' fowk kursened.

Everybody wor feightin' for th' front pews, an' them 'at gate 'em had to haddle e'm an' net be perticular abaat ther shirt collar--an' when a chap starts aat for a front place i' this life he has to rough it, an' if he succeeds aw wonder sometimes if he's ony better off nor them 'at gate th' front seeats i'th' chapel, for all 'at wor behund 'em seem'd to be tryin' to shove 'em ovver into th' bottom, an' nah an'

then aw noaticed odd uns 'at could bide noa longer, an' gave up th'

spot they'd fowt soa hard to get, an' sombdy behund, 'at had hardly tewd a bit dropt into th' seat. And sich is life: it isn't allus th'

workers 'at succeed, net it marry! its th' skeeamers! it's them 'at keeps ther een oppen. But aw con allus thoil 'em owt they get, if, when they're climbin' up th' stee, they niver put ther heel on another chap's neck, by traidin' on his fingers, to mak him lawse his hold.

It's a wrang nooation 'at some fowk have getten, to "get bra.s.s honestly if yo can, an' if yo cannot, try to keep a easy conscience, an' do baat it." Some chaps 'll niver get on; they're allus gooin' to mend, but they niver start. Sich like should tak a pattern throo th'

Almenack makkers--they've lost eighteen haars this last three years, an' if they didn't mind they'd loise six mooar this time, but they tak care net to do soa,--they shove a day extra into February to mak it up, and they call it "leap year," and it ud be a rare gooid job if fowk wod tak a few laups this year;--laup aat o'th' alehouse on to th'

hearthstun at home--laup aat o' bed i' time for th' church ov a Sunday momin'--laup aat o' th' clutches o' th' strap shop--laup aat o' th'

gate o' bad company--laup up to yo're wark wi' a smile, an' laup back hooam wi' it, an' yo'll find th' wife's heart ul laup wi joy to see yo comin' back cheerful, an' th' childer ul laup on to yo'r knee, an'

yo'll be capt ha easy it'll be to laup over ony bits o' trouble 'at yo' meet wi'. But alus laup forrard if it's possible; for if yo try to laup backards yo'll run th' risk o' braikin yo'r neck, an' noabody pities them 'at laups aat o' th' fryin' pan into th' fire, an' it's a easy matter to miss it.--Aa dear o' me! aw think it is!--and yo'd think soa if yo'd seen what aw saw once. A mate o' mine courted a la.s.s, an' he'd monny a miss afore he gat throo wi it. He used to go an' tawk to her throo a brokken window 'at ther wor i' th' weshhaase, an' one neet shoo'd promised to meet him thear, an' he wanted to kuss her as usual, but he started back. "Nay, Lucy," he said, "aw'm sure thar't nooan reight. Has ta been growin' a mustash?" Mew! mew! it went; an' he fan aat he'd kuss'd th' owd Tom cat. When th' neighbours gate to know, they kursened him "Kusscat," an' they call him soa yet.

But that worn't all; for when he went to get wed he wor soa fl.u.s.tered woll he stood i' th' wrang place, an' when th' time coom for him to put th' ring on, he put it on th' woman next to him--he thowt it didn't mean, for he cud get it swap'd after, but when it wor ovver they all began to find aat ther'd been a mistak. "Why, Kusscat," said one, "what's ta been doin'? Tha' s getten wed to thi mother." Th'

parson look'd glum, but he said, "It's noa use botherin' nah, its too lat, you should ha' spokken afoor--an' aw think he's fittest to be wi'

his mother." But he roar'd like a bull, an' begged th' parson to do it ovver, an' do it reight; but Lucy said, "He'd noa cashion, for shoo'd live an' dee an owd maid for iver afoor shoo'd have ony chap second hand." But her heart worn't as hard as shoo thowt, soa, shoo gave in, an' th' next time they managed better.

Mysterious Disapperance.

A short time ago Mr. Fitzivitz, of Rank end, was seen to be swimming at a great rate and making a most extensive spread in the river plate.

Several friends cautioned him not to go so far out of his depth, but he was utterly heedless of advice, he dived still deeper, and was observed to sink over head and ears in debt, leaving a large circle of friends to bewail his loss. His body has since been recovered, but all that could have comforted his anxious friends had fled, alas for ever.

Sam it up.

Ther's a deal o' things scattered raand, at if fowk ud tak th' trouble to pick up might do 'em a paar o' gooid, an' my advice is, if yo meet wi' owt i' yor way 'at's likely to mak life better or happier, sam it up, but first mak sure yo've a reight to it. Nah, aw once knew a chap at fan a topcoit, an' he came to me, an' says--"A'a lad! awve fun one o' th' grandest topcoits to-day at iver tha clapt thi' een on." "Why, where did ta find it?" aw says. "Reight o' th' top o' Skurcoit moor."

"Well, tha'rt a lucky chap," aw says, "what has ta done wi' it?" "Aw niver touched it; 'aw left it just whear it wor." "Well, tha art a faoil; tha should ha' brout it hooam." "E'ea! an' aw should ha' done, but does ta see ther wor a chap in it." Aw tell'd him he'd made a fooil on me, an' aw consider'd mysen dropt on, but noa moor nor he wor wi' havin' to leave th' coit. "Neer heed," he said "fowk can allus do baat what they can't get," an' aw thowt ther wor a bit o' wisdom i'

what he said. But what caps me th' mooast is at fowk tug an' tew for a thing as if ther life depended on it, an' as sooin as they find they cannot get it, they turn raand an' say they care nowt abaat it. We've all heeard tell abaat th' "fox an' grapes," an' ther's a deal o' that sooart o' thing. This world's full o' disappointments, an' we've all a share. Th' Bradford Exchange wor oppened this month, 1867, an' aw luk on it, that wor a sad disappointment to some. "Exchange is noa robbery," they say, but if some fowk knew what it had cost, they might think it had been a dear swap. Ther are fowk at call it "a grand success"--but then awve heeard some call th' Halifax Taan Hall "a grand success," but they haven't made me believe it. It may do a deal o' gooid, aw'll not deny that; it may taich fowk to let things alooan at they dooan't understand--let's hooap soa. Ovver th' door-hoil they've put "Act Wisely," an' it's time they did. Its summat like telling a chap to be honest, at the same time yo'r picking his pocket.

But we've noa business to grummel, its awr duty to "submit to th'

powers that be" (if they're little ens); but a chap cannot help langin' for th' time when brains an' net bra.s.s shall fit a man for a Taan Caancillor. But fowk mun get consolation aat o' summat, soa they try to fancy th' Taan Hall luks handsome. Its like th' chap 'at saw his horse fall into th' beck;--he tugg'd an' pool'd, and shaated an'

bawl'd, but th' horse went flooatin' on, plungin' its legs abaat, makkin' th' watter fly i' all direckshuns but it wur noa use, for it wur draanded at th' last. When he went hooam he tell'd th' wife abaat it

"What does ta say?" shoo says; "is it draanded?"

"E'es, it's draanded, la.s.s; but it ud ha' done thi e'en gooid to ha'

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Yorkshire Tales Volume I Part 7 summary

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