Poems Of Rural Life In The Dorset Dialect Part 17

THE VROST.

Come, run up hwome wi' us to night, Athirt the vield a-vroze so white, Where vrosty sheades do lie below The winter ricks a-tipp'd wi' snow, An' lively birds, wi' waggen tals, Do hop upon the icy rals, An' rime do whiten all the tops O' bush an' tree in hedge an' copse, In wind's a-cutten keen.

Come, madens, come: the groun's a-vroze Too hard to-night to spweil your clothes.

You got noo pools to waddle drough, Nor clay a-pullen off your shoe: An' we can trig ye at the zide, To keep ye up if you do slide: Zoo while there's neither wet nor mud, 'S the time to run an' warm your blood, In winds a-cutten keen.

Vor young men's hearts an' maden's eyes Don't vreeze below the cwoldest skies, While they in twice so keen a blast Can wag their brisk lim's twice so vast!

Though vier-light, a-flick'ren red Drough vrosty window-peanes, do spread Vrom wall to wall, vrom he'th to door, Vor us to goo an' zit avore, Vrom winds a-cutten keen.

A BIT O' FUN.

We thought you woulden leave us quite So soon as what you did last night; Our fun jist got up to a height As you about got hwome.

The frisken chaps did skip about, An' cou'se the madens in an' out, A-meaken such a randy-rout, You coulden hear a drum.

An' Tom, a-springen after Bet Blind-vwolded, whizz'd along, an' het Poor Grammer's zide, an' overzet Her chair, at blind-man's buff; An' she, poor soul, as she did vall, Did show her snags o' teeth an' squall, An' what, she zaid, wer wo'se than all, She shatter'd all her snuff.

An' Bet, a-hoppen back vor fear O' Tom, struck uncle zomewhere near, An' meade his han' spill all his beer Right down her poll an' back; An' Joe, in middle o' the din, Slipt out a bit, an' soon come in Wi' all below his dapper chin A-jumpen in a zack.

An' in a twinklen tother chaps Jist hung en to a crook wi' straps, An' meade en bear the madens' slaps, An' p.r.i.c.kens wi' a pin.

An' Jim, a-catchen Poll, poor chap, In back-house in the dark, vell slap Athirt a tub o' barm,--a trap She set to catch en in.

An' then we zot down out o' breath, An' meade a circle roun' the he'th, A-keepen up our harmless me'th, Till supper wer a-come.

An' after we'd a-had zome prog, All tother chaps begun to jog, Wi' sticks to lick a thief or dog, To zee the madens hwome.

f.a.n.n.yS BE'TH-DAY.

How merry, wi' the cider cup, We kept poor f.a.n.n.y's be'th-day up!

An' how our busy tongues did run An' hands did wag, a-meaken fun!

What plasome anticks zome [=o]'s done!

An' how, a-reelen roun' an' roun', We beat the merry tuen down, While music wer a-sounden!

The madens' eyes o' black an' blue Did glisten lik' the mornen dew; An' while the cider-mug did stand A-hissen by the bleazen brand, An' uncle's pipe wer in his hand, How little he or we did think How peale the zetten stars did blink While music wer a-sounden.

An' f.a.n.n.y's last young _teen_ begun, Poor mad, wi' thik day's risen zun, An' we all wish'd her many mwore Long years wi' happiness in store; An' as she went an' stood avore The vier, by her father's zide, Her mother dropp'd a tear o' pride While music wer a-sounden.

An' then we did all kinds o' tricks Wi' han'kerchiefs, an' strings, an' sticks: An' woone did try to overmatch Another wi' zome cunnen catch, While tothers slyly tried to hatch Zome geame; but yet, by chap an' mad.

The dancen wer the mwost inja'd, While music wer a-sounden.

The briskest chap ov all the lot Wer Tom, that danc'd hizzelf so hot, He doff'd his cwoat an' jump'd about, Wi' girt new s.h.i.+rt-sleeves all a-strout, Among the madens screamen out, A-thinken, wi' his strides an' stamps, He'd squot their veet wi' his girt clamps, While music wer a-sounden.

Then up jump'd uncle vrom his chair, An' pull'd out aunt to meake a peair; An' off he zet upon his tooe, So light's the best that beat a shoe, Wi' aunt a-crien "Let me goo:"

While all ov us did laugh so loud, We drown'd the tuen o' the croud, While music wer a-sounden.

A-comen out o' pa.s.sage, Nan, Wi' pipes an' cider in her han', An' watchen uncle up so sprack, Vorgot her veet, an' vell down smack Athirt the house-dog's s.h.a.ggy back, That wer in pa.s.sage vor a snooze, Beyond the reach o' dancers' shoes, While music wer a-sounden.

WHAT d.i.c.k AN' I DID.

Last week the Browns ax'd nearly all The naghbours to a randy, An' left us out o't, girt an' small, Vor all we liv'd so handy; An' zoo I zaid to d.i.c.k, "We'll trudge, When they be in their fun, min; An' car up zome'hat to the rudge, An' jis' stop up the tun, min."

Zoo, wi' the ladder vrom the rick, We stole towards the house, An' crope in roun' behind en, lik'

A cat upon a mouse.

Then, looken roun', d.i.c.k whisper'd "How Is thease job to be done, min: Why we do want a f.a.ggot now, Vor stoppen up the tun, min."

"Stan' still," I answer'd; "I'll teake ceare O' that: why dussen zee The little grinden stwone out there, Below the apple-tree?

Put up the ladder; in a crack Shalt zee that I wull run, min, An' teake en up upon my back, An' soon stop up the tun, min."

Zoo up I clomb upon the thatch, An' clapp'd en on; an' slided Right down agean, an' run drough hatch, Behind the hedge, an' hided.

The vier that wer clear avore, Begun to spweil their fun, min; The smoke all roll'd toward the door, Vor I'd a-stopp'd the tun, min.

The madens cough'd or stopp'd their breath, The men did hauk an' spet; The wold vo'k bundled out from he'th Wi' eyes a-runnen wet.

"'T'ool choke us all," the wold man cried, "Whatever's to be done, min?

Why zome'hat is a-vell inside O' chimney drough the tun, min."

Then out they scamper'd all, vull run, An' out cried Tom, "I think The grinden-stwone is up on tun, Vor I can zee the wink.

This is some kindness that the vo'k At Woodley have a-done, min; I wish I had em here, I'd poke Their numskulls down the tun, min."

Then off he zet, an' come so quick 'S a lamplighter, an' brote The little ladder in vrom rick, To clear the chimney's droat.

While I, a-chucklen at the joke, A-slided down, to run, min, To hidelock, had a-left the vo'k As bad as na'r a tun, min.

GRAMMER'S SHOES.

I do seem to zee Grammer as she did use Vor to show us, at Chris'mas, her wedden shoes, An' her flat spreaden bonnet so big an' roun'

As a girt pewter dish a-turn'd upside down; When we all did draw near In a cl.u.s.ter to hear O' the merry wold soul how she did use To walk an' to dance wi' her high-heel shoes.

She'd a gown wi' girt flowers lik' hollyhocks, An' zome stockens o' gramfer's a-knit w' clocks, An' a token she kept under lock an' key,-- A small lock ov his heair off avore 't wer grey.

An' her eyes wer red, An' she shook her head, When we'd all a-look'd at it, an' she did use To lock it away wi' her wedden shoes.

She could tell us such teales about heavy snows, An' o' rans an' o' floods when the waters rose All up into the housen, an' carr'd awoy All the bridge wi' a man an' his little bwoy; An' o' vog an' vrost, An' o' vo'k a-lost, An' o' pearties at Chris'mas, when she did use Vor to walk hwome wi' gramfer in high-heel shoes.