T' EEL TYAMMER
(by the late Eddie Maccabe, West Cumberland)
Ah thowt Ah wuz gud at trainen' animals an' things till Ah tries mi hand wid a conger eel, an' that gev me summat to deu an' neah mistek.
It wuz yan ev them snyak wimmen in a curcus `at furst put t' idea inta mi heed - Ah wuz that tyan up wid them snyaks writhen' ower her body `at Ah went to t' back efter t' show an' ast her fer a few tips! Than Ah bowt me sell a la-al grass snyak at t' pet shop to practiss wid, an' Ah fund ther' wuz nowt till it - Ah hed it eaten' oot ev mi hand in next to neah time
Than Ah leuked fer summat bigger, but whoar can ye git a big snyak aroond these parts? Forbye Ah wuz a bit dubious aboot t' poison fangs. Seah Ah gits mesell doon on t' shore wid mi crab yeuk an' waders at low-tide, an' efter howken under t' Gilstun rock fer a bit, Ah landed a reet fine conger eel, tuk it hyam, an' put it in t' wesh tub.
Ta start wid, Ah tickled it under t' chin like ye deu wid sammon. Sumbody tell't me `at eels were partial to cheese, but Ah varra seun fund oot `at the' like nowt better ner human flesh, specially fingers. But Ah persevered, till yah day Ah tyan my sark an' vest off just like t' lass in t'curcus an' gently lifted mi substitute snyak oot ev t' watter. It wriggled up mi amn an' accross mi showders an' than turned roond an' crowled on mi kist: than just when Ah thowt Ah'd got it trained, it catch't a sight ev me fyace an' myad a targe reet fer mi snout, an' that put paid to that!
Next Ah thowt Ah wud try that Indian snyak charmen' trick, seah Ah bowt mesell a tin whistle an' practissed t' Blue Bells ev Scotland on it till Ah wuz sick ev t' sound ev them, an' t' eel myad neah response at a'. T' nearest thing till a snyak charmer's pipe at Ah cud git wuz a set ev bag-pipes an' by gox it responded to them a' reet - Ah'd hardly gitten a cupple ev peals ev t' bells oot when it jumped oot ev t' weshtub an' tore t' bagpipes to ribbons! That eel can't hev hed any Scotch bled in its veins, er mebby Ah shud ev put sum whisky in its watter: Yah thing Ah wus sure of - yan ev us wasn't musical!
An wuz determined nut to let it beat me, cos Ah cud see `at Ah'd got a gud eel if Ah cud oany find oot what it really liked to deu, seah Ah tried to teach it a' t' usual fish tricks `at ye can see on t' telly, an he cum on amain. He wasn't se hot at balancen' a bo' on his snout, - his tyall slipped frae under him, but he could jump thro hoops an' sec like as geud as any sea-pig.
But Ah wasn't satisfied wid ordinary tricks, Ah wanted summat off t' common, like writing its oan nyam in t' sand (which wuz ower ticklish fer it ennyway - it wriggled si much it rubbed it oot agyan).
Than Ah tried to teach it knots like a boy scout. Ah got a bit ev skipping ryap an' efter Ah'd larnt them ower agyan, Ah showed mi tyam eel hoo it wuz dun. Weel, giv it its deu, it tried, but ye knoa hoo it is wid eels, ther' that wet an' slape, t' knots wouldn't stop in.Seah Ah packed it up an' sent it away till a zoo whoar it spends its time, day be t' length, tryen to tie itsell up in knots - slip knots. Yan ev these days it'll owther chowk itsell er hing itsell.
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NORTHERN DISTRICT WINNERS (22/05/04) Cumbria Young Farmers Clubs dialect Competition
First Place WINNIE BROUGH'S FATE by Fiona Hardy, Brampton YFC
Winnie Brough frae 'allbankgate Wus ast t' open Parish fete. Wid powder un lipstick ower her fiace She donned a frock aw frills un lace. A bonnet t' gan and a bag in hand In 'er high `eel sploits she was lucken grand.
She landed ower seun, s' to pass t' time Went fur a wander int summer sunshine. She mon av taen advice frae reet country fwolk, They kent weather wud change. She wus in fur a soak. Vanyur reet away t' rain was stotten. Thunner roared. Day hud turned rotten.
It dawned on 'er she'd gitten rang track. Wat cud she diu, wad she fin' her way back? Her luck was in, Laal Jack cum bye - Sech a gran' lad - t' help he'd try. He sed, "ga doon lonnin and lowp ower t' wa' Thu'll be reet theer at village ha"'
T' lonnin was slape and ower she cowpt. She wus feelin waffey but up she lowpt. Her claes wur clarty but she sed, "nivver heed If ah gan reet stiddy as ganna succeed." She slithered doon lonnin un clammert the wa'
But there was wass waiten at t' village ha'. Will to leuk at yon! She's covered in clart! Ivverbody was laffin. It brok 'er `art. But an old farmer biath wise and kind Gev her advice that we a' should mind, "Divvent worry, it'll blaw ower like caff, Thoo'll live a lang time efter folks laff."
*** *** *** Second Place. MEG by James Little, Caldbeck YFC
Nobbut bout it t'other day Ha way, gan owt, ga by. I thowt she's cheap, sit down an stay Dista fancy she's got much of an eye. Meg comebye comebye to me Good dog, good dog ha way, Noo divven't just hide ahint that tree Git oot, sit doon and stay....
Here to me noo that's the style Creep around every lamb. She'll m'be gar bye if I put on a smile Divven't showt and flair her back yam. Come in t' me lass gotta be mad Quietly, t'me slowly come here. There's nee need t' look se painfully sad I think y' far owr dear.
Feckless larl bitch scratch her lug Better git a pocket o'steanes. Beginning t' think it's me that's the mug Thous pout but skin an' byones. Yance mare, afower we both give up Git oot y' brainless hoond, She's off, she's away she's cowped the tup Hiv y' iver heard seck a soond.
Shut up, git doon, leave them be Thy'll be kessen all owr tha hill Meg sit doon, come in to me Or I'll larrup ya so help me I will, I will. Sit doon, sit doon y' hopeless case Thow thinks it's just bloody fun, But I'm telln'y noo git that smile off ya faece Or I'll gar back yam for the gun.
Stop poap'n aboot an git in a'hint Thoo'l hadter wark some day Gut doon thow dozy bint Oh bugger, she's ran away, ran away....... !
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by Helen Withers, Drigg YFC Auld Jim t' farmer on market day, Selt a cuw en a ton of hay! Dressed in his best corduroy pants, Nowt but t' best is what he'd want! At yam he'd trail all oe'rt spot, Duing jobs that want duin a lot! He'd meck a new midden wid lots of muck, Auld Jim he needed lots of luck! He's hardly gitten his new gripe used, When his back gev a crack - Oh what bad news! He crowled in tilt house like a sneil, But jus got as far as t'auld milk pail! From time t'time his back gev out, But he wouldn't sell up, case his stuff selt fer nowt! Farmin was all he knew how t'do, While Maggie was in't house mekin a stew! But Jim nivver spok and sent him away wid a yelp! T'cabbage and taties were riddy t'weed, Maggie was worried they wouldn't succeed! Harvest's a job t'mek ya thrang, But auld binder giv out and t'string did hang! Time cem for t'cuws t'lig in - Jim's nut keen, He sed "grass on t'auld pastures still good n green! When wad a fella listen t'some sense, Cos Maggie knew he waddnt mend t' fence! Christmas cem n Christmas went, Jim sed "Maggie tho's heaven sent!" A seal was arranged for t'middle o'May Then auld Jim could sel rest o' his hay! *** *** ***
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