Boston (Mass.). Election Dept.

Jim and Nell: a dramatic poem in the dialect of North Devon online

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Scene, Guenever Varm.

•• SjjW ! dang et Will— Ott art about ?
^ An' ditlin't muve, I'll gie th' a clout —
Yen ma thick Cris'mus brawn :
An' dra' thick settle nigh tha clock,
An' auff tha brand is tak' tha crock,
Yer's Maister a-cum haum.

" Doant strake about tha house, bit muve,
Tha stinpole lout ! — 'Od rat it you've

Smal time to git things vitty :
Cum, doo be peart a-bit — tha mux
A-tap the draxel*s up ta hux,

I'm vexed tha keaks be clitty.

" We've hailed tha neck, torned pegs ta arish,

We'm gwain ta zee up haff tha parish,

Fegs, they'll be yer azoon ;

Ott a gurt busker toad thee art !

I thort thee'st got et all by heart,

Where have 'e clapped tha spune ?
a 2



" Jan, clare tha 'cess in t'other houze,
Vrom they old kex, an' bring tha browze,

And cricks vrorn Cockhedge plat ;
Muve, bloggy, clopping blindego !
Whare is voaks docity a- go ?

They doant know ot be at.

" Giles, git zuiq stroyl out o' tha shippen,
And carr et down to tha bee-lippen ;

Tha bee-butts be all bare :
An' whare tha busks an' barras be,
Tie a bullbagger to tha tree,

I zeed tha acknials thare."

" Lord, dame, doant agg an' argy zo,
Bin' 'e wur aprilled hours ago,

'E've creusled vur tha day ;
I niver zeed 'e zo vore-wained,
Avore tha cock-leart all wur clained,

Zo ott's tha use vor zay."

" I don't drill time in thease gude place,
Wanged or no, mine's tutwork pace,

Zo ott's this hackle vor ?
Chewers ban't gwain to crick my back,
Britting o' thick an crazing thack,

But yet I'll do my coure."


" Yer be tha voaks ! I'm glad vor zee- em,
An brort Jan Scrape tha Crowder wi' 'em :

Well, Gaffer Voord, how be ?
And Gammer too ! Dame, how d'ye doo ?
And Scrimmit Joe, an' lanky Loo,

We'me cruel glad vor zee.

•' An' leetle Bob ! tha daps o's veather,
i Hoi, wull, us did count on un, reather :)

Yer Bobby yer's tha crickett,
Tha chield's avroared, tha conkerbells
Be hangin' to un — Yett theesel,

Bob — Yen thick auther thicket.

" Ah, Bob, thee wisn't biver there,
Tbee cricket kip by Granny's chair ;

How all at home d'ye laive ? "
•' Why Zukey's pinswell's going wrang,
An' Nance 's got a nimpingang,"

An' Urchy tha bone-sheave."

" Ay, wnll, ther always is a summet,
Laist Zinday wi' a drap o' runnet

I jist a junket made,
An' whe'r twur wort or mazzard pie,
Ur whe'r it wur tha junket, I

Zem 't hurt my leetle maid."


" Why, now you mine ma, wan vornoon,
Hur mitched vro' schule, an' I'll be boun'

Hur ait zum greenish trade.
Sloans, bullans, and haigles be about,
I'll warney now as el turn out

'Twur they that harmed tha maid/'

" Jist put her tooties in hot watter,
An' gie'r a few Strang argans arter,

Or else zum featherfowl ;
I zarve my man zo when he is sick,
Et dith more gude than kautcky vizzick,

'Tes gude vor young an' oul' !

" Well, Giles tha hatch as well may hapse :
Cum, cum you buoys, hitch up yer caps,

We'll try vor pick a bit.
Cum, naybors, doo dra nigh tha board,
Tha very best us can avoord —

Cum, all know wharc vor zit.

" Vrens, yer's a squab-pie ; there's a guse ;
Zum laver ; whitpot ; o't d'ye chuse ?

Zee, yer's zum yerly chibbol.
Doant look vor lathing, Iimmers. Be
Them taties cladgy ? Rabbin, zee ;

Doo hayt if 'e be ibble.


" Us killed a peg laist Muuday, but
Tha natlings an' tha bliddy-pot

Both turned out gude vor nort.
But howmsonidever us ded wull,
The corbetts be wi' beacon vull,

Bezides dree stanes o' mort.

" Doo let me belp 'e, Varmer Hayl,
Vrom thease yer dibben o' roast vayl,

Or vrorn thease niuggett pie."
"No, I've a-doo, but if 'e plaise,
I'll ha a crub wi' vinhed chaise,

Tis 'most too gude vor I.

" Yer, eetle Bobby's plate's aslat ;
Till un a traunchard vrom tha tack

Wi' zum nice doucet pie.
Bobby, doant ait them trade o' cruoiplings,
Shalt ha' thee vill o' appul dumplings

An' clotted crayme bam-bye.

i; Lewy, hell Bet a cup o' zider ;

Or, Jan, thee zitt'st tha naist o' zide her,

And doattiest 'pon tha gurl.
Why, buoy, art bosky, or scootchy-pawed ?
Thee'st slottered all thee drink abroad,

Ott maks tha luke sa thurl ?


" Tlier's Lew a-glinting at thy maid !
I marvel Lewy isn't vraid,

Thee'rt zich a stuggy hrute :
Why ott clith luke sa gallied vor ?
Tha luve that hath a jillus mor'

'11 hear a hitter vruit.

" I'll warn, thee neesn't vear o' Bess,
Her used vor slammocky hur dress,

Bit now hur frap'th up tight ;
Hur used vor ha' a poochy way,
But now hur's mostly peart an' gay,

Laist Re-el set her right.

" Lawks, good-now, nayhors, hav 'e din ?
I sem 'e 've hardly yit begen."

Ees, ev'ry squinch es vull :
Jist now es veelt unkimmon leary,
I'm glitted now wi' vaisting weary,

So ait na moor I wull."

" Wull, if 'e 've din, zay grace out loud,
An', Janny Scrape, go get tha crowd,

And crowd a merry toon !
Dame Voord 11 sug a hit 'ner chair,
An' Gaffer p'raps '11 snoozle wi' 'er;

We'll daunce in t'other room.


•' Bit now I think on't, on tha plaunchin',
Our veet'll zet et all a-scraunchin',

Go zwaip tha zand away ;
Giles, git a mite o' rubbly cawl
They've drawecl a wallage on o' small,

'T 'as smeetched all tha day.

' ' Now let it blunk, us bant afraid
Poor Bobby's hands wi' cold be spraid,

Don't scrap 'em to tha vire,
A derrymouse might nest wi' you,
And snooze away tha winter dro'

An' not vor spring desire.

" Jim is all reart ? Now, Scrape, thee toon !
Nelly, my chuckie, mainy to 'un,

And tell un ott vor crowd !
Cum, hands acrass, tha middle down,
An' up again. War wing ! turn roun',

I'm in a parfick soud.

"Us ha' a kintry daunce sa sil'm,
I be a'most a-choked wi' pilm,

Do gie's a drap o' trade !
When 'e be tired o' dauncing, try
A game o' bunky bean bam-by e,

Or let us bunky Ned.


" How inenny vingers do 'e zee ?
Darney, 'tis dhnuiit all ta me,

I dinnaw wher I'm gwain ;
Kip ma tha vire an' winder vrom,
Why wher' he all tha voaks a-gone '?

Ther's noan he yer, 'tis plain.

" I've heed a quarter he tha watch,
Oh, lawks ! I've trad upon a patch,

I'm veaved a shall go scat ;
The plaunching's lick a gliddered pond,
I used o' hlindy-huff he vond,

But I must zee, that's vlat!

"Ah! I ha' cotched tha ! If 'e plaise '
'Tis pudgy Will. I've lost ma paise,

But 'it I'll hould en vast.
Darney ! et es na use vor pote
Er tussell zo. I've vound 'e out,

And you'll be hunked ta last.

" Et mak'th a pusky chap vor blow,
I oughdn't ta he pussed up zo ;

Et made ma amost mazed :
I moody hearted got to he,
Jist as a poked ma hand on thee,

I wur most nation taysed.


" I zee, Jim's tired o' this yer sportin',
He'd zoonder Nelly Brown be courtin',"'

" Her's vit vor live ta town ;
I'd ray ther awn her purty mou'
Than ha' our rnewstead's beggest mow

Or vang up veevety poun' ".

'" Well, Jim, to tak' her at thy waartin,
Thee kisn't think to ha' 'er, that's sartin ;

So pitha, tell na more ;
Dwellin' o' maids thee kisn't ha',
'11 werritt all thee loive away,

An vill thee brow wi' vores.

•' Nor welgars, no nor withy bans,
11 vix ther herts ner bin' ther hans,

When all sems gwayin' suant,
Jist when 'e sem 'e've schuled ther hart,
An' a' yer awn's a-gettin' sart,

Yer schollard rin'th a-truant.

" I've zeed a power o' nice young wimmen,
But cum vor knaw mun an' what be mun,

The chits be leetle vally ;
Avore I'd be as I've a-beed
I'd 'stead of daysent niching reed

Dra' popples wi' a Malley.


" Bet zee, they be tha pawns a-draying,
An' harkee ! ott's our Bess a-zaying ;

Tha awner o' thick thing
Mus' kiss tha velly o' tha butt,
An' on tha sharp a dashell put

Avore 'a hath es ring." •

Away Dick rin'th. Now vor tha naist
Mus' grip es maid around ur waist,

An' tak' ur to tha barn,
An' shet tha curt an' gurden geats,
An' stay vor wimb a strik' o' wets,

An' gie tha maid tha earn.

" 'Tis Jim an' Nelly Brown ! I warn
Jim's not o'er queck vor wimb tha earn,

Well, niver min'. Let's yer!"
" Tha next v'ra turn o' hood mus' laid
'S gurl to tha linhay in tha meiid,

An' kiss a yaw that's ther'."

•< lawks ! 'tis little Bobby. Whuse

Thee maid, Bob ? queck, cheeld, 'ich dith choose.

" Is Granny Voord in rume ?
I doant lick gurt axwaddle Sal,
Nor pimping duggytratty Mai,

Gran's worth a dizzin o' em."


" Yer's Jim an' Nell ! (all auver doust ;)
Why, Nell, thee handkecher's a-foust,

Ott vor dith hike sa wist ?"
" 'Tis thick gurt hunk. I tell 'e all
Auver tha passon's desk I'll vail

Avore I wool be kist."

" Law, Nell, doant quarley, 'tis bet fun,
I zem Jirn Barrow's lick ma sun ;

Ye'U zing anither tune
Avore the braun's a- burned again ;
I'll warn yer vust rewtratter's gwain,

Fegs I'll be gossip to 'un.

" I 'sure 'e Jim's no drumbledrane,
Drashel an' mattick 's all tha zame

T' he, — 's a likely lad ;
A beat'th mun all vor hack an' hail,
An' if he shar'th yer feather-pail

Ye needn't be o'er zad.

" Yer Vaarmer Voord, wher be ? Ya knaw
Jim always was my dollylaw.

Cum, us be wull to-do ;
We've yarned anew' vor eetle Bob,
I want 'e build vour waalls o' cob

Vor thaise yer purty two."


" Wi' all ma bert. Ees, Jim an' Nell
E've zarved yev Dames an' Maisters well.

And yer rayward sliall vend ;
I'll gie tha 'ouse, hoy, an' hadge roun ;
Sniaal-acker Close vor gurden groun',

An' proud to caal th'a vrend.

" Jim's jist tlia chap as I admire,

♦Frank Berry's bukes mak' menny a 'Squire,

They can't yet mak' a man ;
Thee'st din thee dooty all thee live,
Now do thee dooty to thee wive —

Nelly gie Jim thee hand.

" And naybors all, 'tis gitting neart,
So, Giles, go geese ould Brock up teart,

Jim, zee all shore an' sartin !
An' thees day month, if all be well,
Our Jim, plaise God, '11 marry Nell-
All meet ta Whitveel Bartin."

* Francis Bony was long the chief steward of the North
Devon landlords. His " bukes " held, consequently, the great
claim to squiredom.


Scene out ta Whitveel Bartin.

tELL, Grace, ray banns be out to-day,
Jim has a'reddy bin' vor zay,
"lis cruel hard vor wait.
Lawks, Varmer Voord's a-trattin in
Wi' Dame Voord (bless hur mappet chin) ;
They'm close aneest the yeat.

"0, Gracey ! I be all ageest,

Ott be niun cum vor ? I've a-guest !

Oh — I'm sa timmersom'."
" Now doant make-wise an' finey zo,
Yer galdiment must zoon be Wo,

Vor yer is Jim a- cum.

" How nice a look'th wi's bran new coat
An' bits o' buoy's-love stickt in to't ;

Oh ! ott a sight o' vlowers !
Sweet butter-rosems, gooly cups,
Whit-zindays, snap-jacks, goosey vlops,

An' baisiers too in pours.


" Pollyantice an' Cuckoe too i' fegs,
Lent roses, withy-wind, butter 'n eggs,

Yew brimmel too sa early,
Zayhaddick, that vine barb vor bosses,
Zarretb to kip us all vroni crosses,

Zoursalves, an' biles o' barley.

" Well, Jim, bow be ? Urn in man. urn !
Doant stand drabreecbing to tba durn,

Bit step wayin tba zell.
Play vore tby leg min. Pitbee spaik,
Or else poor Nelly's bart'll braik —

Why doant 'e spaik to Nell ? "

" Nelly, tba day's a-cum ta-last,
When us twain '11 be linkt up fast :

I zim'd 'twid niver cum :
Ees fegs, I thort my nits wur deeve.
Zaid I, ' Od zooks, I can't beleeve

I shall carr Nelly haum.'

' ' Thees morn I yeard the gladdies zing,
And drishes too lick enny thing,

I thort my heart 'd bust ;
A reed-mote 'd a-knact ma down
Thort I, zo zweet wur ivry zoun'

When I zecd Nelly vust.


" Bet now, I zeni I cou'd laype owre
Guennever pool or Mar'od tower ,

Ees fey, I zem, I be
Sa lissom an' sa limber, Grace,
That if thee sbaw'st that purty face,

Fath, I shall towsell thee !

li Bit yer cuius Maister." " How bee, Nell ?
Ott's matter, Gracey b'ant bur well

Nan? is our Nell apurt ? "
" Tha frump o't Varmer, as may zay,
Hur layv'th us all, 'e zee to-day,

An' veelth a littul hurt."

" Pitha, git out ! No looking down,
Jim dithn't car 'e in ta town,

Ye'll ha a varmeric loive ;
"lis Lime-ash vloor an' a cob-wall'd home,
But thof yer cheney '11 be cloam

He'll mak th' a happy woive.

" I've zeed voaks clapped in manor-houzes
Wi' herts no bigger than a lowzes,

And knawed the pimpin'st place
Wi' bowerly maids, an' vore-right men ;
The gurt-house shou'd a' be vor them,

They wid tha Manor grace.


" Well, how d'ye fadge, Nell ?— better? boy ?
Cum dress, maid, e'U be late bam-bye,

Do, Gal, as 'e be bidden."
" Lawk, Voord, doant werrett. How d'ye try ?
(Wan drap o' gommer-margeiy,

'E ke'pt'k on zicb a lidden.)

" Ay, wull, I tbort hur'd crickle-to ;
Now, Jim, jist while tha maids be go,

I must commerce wi' thee —
When 'e be jined, thof things go wrangy,
Not e'en the passon can untang'e,

Zo strive vor both agree.

" Thee'st got thy latch Nell vor thee woive,
I know thee lov'st her as thee loive,

I ausney zich a farra' !
But, Jim, doant dra thee stroile away,
The shetlake that rin'th out to-day,

Can grind no grist ta-marra. -

' ' I mind an alkitotle o't
Avore a month had got a-quot

How us did documenty !
Tis ninnyhammer's work I zay,
To graunge an' guddle all tha day,

Being guile things be sent 'e.


" Nell isn't a gurt fustilugs

0' cart-hoss heft, an' hulking dugs,

Hur shant he pauched ahout,
Tho' thee'rt in desperd haydigees
Doant flerry Nell. But hy degrees

Ha thee vull shillard out.

" Hey, yer hur com'th vor pruve her truth ;
Hur zmell'th ta me like elder blooth."

" Oh, Nelly, my dare Nell,
Vrom all the woiT were I to chusy,
'Twid still be thee. I widn't cusey,

Vor Queen Victoria's seP.

" Stap ! Ot's the dringet ta the door ?"
"Up vour-an'-twenty maids an' more,

Dame dithn't zem tha fuss ;
But they've a strubb'd vlower knats an' heaths,
And fudgeed up zum purty wreaths

To waalk ta church way us.

" Ees, there is burly-faced Jan,

And Urchy Thorn's bonehealthing's gan,

Or layv'd behind ta Bartin ;
And Joe an' Will have each a-bro't
A main peart o' the leet they've got,

Gosh 'e'll ha quite a vortin.
b 2


" Urchy, 'th a-made 'e pair o' crooks,
Joey codgloves an' copperclouts,

Vor when 'e vreeth tha badge ;
And leetle Bob 'th bro't Nell zum daffer
A new-fardelled Bible vrom es Gaffer,

A veiling plough an' a dradge.

" An' Bobby 'th vaught 'e vor es sel'
Haimses, a hanniber, a veil,

A drapper vor tha calves,
A barker, barraquail, a bittle,
A ribb an' cheesewring. That's no little ;

Bob dithn't gie by halves.

" Us wur betwitting Bob to-day,
Vor gieing all es things away,

Begummers, us wur cort.
Akether, ' bin ma kit's ago,
I can't work w'e'r I wull or no,

I'll maunch an' drink vor nort.'

" But, Jim, I've tould 'e bit tha earning ;
Dame, gie's a morgt vor thy house-waarming,

Thcc needst git leet' thysel',
An elsh vourpost wi' vittings prappcr,
A few Welsh flannin' vor a flapper,

A bed-tye, too, vor Nell.


" Dame send'th, too, a skillet, cowal, an' trundle,
A kieve, o' pillor- drawers a bundle,

Tay dishes, keigers, waiters,
Zum inkle, gurts vor bliddypots,
A latten lantern, stales vor mops,

A standard, an' four heaters.

" Two carmantrees, a pony-sadclle,
Witch ellem limbers vor mewstaddle,

Amost tha courtlage vull ;
A seedlip, scuffle, skerryflier,
Saltrees an' whink vrom Varmer Dyer,

Way use of his prime bull.

" A two-bill, tichcrook, an' tormentor,
Gude when vor burn tha pile 'e ventur',

A piler, an' paddle iron,
A pair o' kittibats, an' gallaces ;
They was, gudenow, es puir buoy Wallis's.

All thaise vrom Varmer Hiern.

" But more an' that, I'm towl'd by Gaffer
To gie tha Sparkie, that prime yaffer

That's down in Goiley mead ;
An' I've a-zent to thee pegs' looze,
Vrom my laist farra' two young zows ;

I'm glad they wasn't speyed.


" My ould asneger '11 doo vor put
Into a little gurry butt,

That Varmer Yoss has sent 'e ;
An' girts, a guidestrap, hayvor seed,
A gaff, dree picks vrom Varmer Reed,

An' two gude zoles (wan's plenty ! ")

" Ould, northering, gurbed, hadge-tacker, Dick,
Hath brort (I zed 'twas lick-a-to-lick)

Dree pearts o' Dick's awn yusen ;
Skeerings o' wormeth, tweeny legs,
Clum, lhnp'skrimp, velvet docks, so Fegs,

I'd burn it, bit doant refuse-'en."

" Stap, stap, I yer a dap ta door,
1 thort the oss 'd bin avore,

Poor ould piebaldish thing !
Doant creem me, Nell, nor sem unwillin' ;
Git up by Jim, tap o' the pillin' ;

James, hav' 'e got tha ring ?"

" Jim, we'll jist ha' a dash-an-darras."
" No, Voord, 't'll mak' en auver dairous,

I want ha' Nelly dered."
" I'm drow, 'tes buldering, Dame, ta-day.
No geowering Voord, mind ott I zay,

Or I shall be afeared.


«'Sa longful while a-muving vore,
They'll be ta latter lammas zure,

Ould Brock's a gittin' gastable ;
I want vor zee 'e clear an shear,
Gie Brock a whop, Jim, while 'e 'm yer,

I wad a-he to Bastable.
" There, lick two culvers they'm a-go ;
Gracey, yen arter 'em thee shoe,

And broodle o' tha day,
When Radgy Vuzz or Rabbin Knapp,
Or zum more weather-lucker chap

'11 help thee to unray.

" Dame, e've a-tiched a allernbatch,
Ye'm always diddling o' my latch,

You doant min 'ott 'e zay.
'Twas don an doff all droo tha spring,
An' now I be a davered thing,
An' not young Gracey Gray.
" Cou'd my poor chumber coander spaik,
'Twid zay my hart ed lick to braik

A creudling auver's letters ;
Till wan day, tachy, hackled, forth,
I zed more tears they wasn't worth,
An' brock mun all ta flitters.



" Why did 'a all tha zummer bother
Me wi' 'es tutties an es vlother,

A-daggling arter me ?
But there, I be a-telling cloil,
Ott dith et argy Dame to roil ;

There's noan, I zem, like he !

" Vump goeth my hart if Robert frown,
Aw, do 'e strive vor much-en-clown,

They zay 'a Tamsin coorts ;
There's nort bit leather-birds be flying,
Larks be turned windles, Love goeth sighiug.

Lawks ! Rab zo put to's shourts.

" Zarch tha whole worl', vrom Guenever
To Squier Mules' ta Muddever,

Moot iv'ry brack about un:
But thof us doant jist uow agree,
Nort Dame shall bock ma luve vor he,

'Tis 'n unket e'th way-out un."

" Lawks, doant be clummed by Rabbin Knapp,
'8a bibbliug, boostering, blinded chap,

A dinderhead badge-boar !
Begorsey! vor a coager's en',
I'll till 'o vievety better men,

Rab was made backsevore.


" 'Sa got a whargle in es eye,

An 's a parfick rames v'rall's sa high,

Isn't ha rarnaking !
An' then 'es swinkum swankurn waalk,
An' taffety dildrums in es talk,

Rucky ta zich a thing !

' ' A lubbercock gurt wangery toad,
'A niver carr'th but half a load,

Tha quirking fule's two-double ;
A panking, pluffy nestledraff,
'e'm too good haveage vor'n by haff,

Ha isn't worth zich trouble.

" Let un take Tam'sin to es mixen,
'A trap'th wi' thick stayhoppin' vixen,

Her's trignornate now to 'un,
Good honest voaks skid kibbits keep,
Ta wallop all zich mangy sheep ;

You shan't, Grace, edge a croom.

li Why, if ha lik'th ta waive in mux,
Let un ward in it to es hux,

Droo iv'ry hole an' drang ;
If ha lov'th jaques, why let un beckon,
Hagegy Bess; wi' zich, I reckon,

Ha now delight'h vor rnang.


" Had 'e bin always iteming,
A flittering, coltree, giglot thing,

'A might a-flinked 'e vrom en ;
The tilty, twily, preckett toad,
'A striv'th vor stample 'e abroad ;

Soce ! why do 'e dwell on en ?"

" Aw, Dame, doant beysle'n all tha day,
Vor I be dunch to all 'e zay,

I luve en as ma loive ;
0, es shall belve vrom hour ta hour,
Ur blake away avore es door,

If 'a mak'th Tarn es woive."

" Doant zoundy now zoaks, vor yer be
The voaks back wi' tha woodquists. Zee !

Poor Nelly 'th got the flicketts.
I zee, Joe Routley's maximing ;
I mind, I blished lick enny thing,

Zich times they wull be wecket !"

" Yer Dame us be ! The job's a-doo !
Vor wull begun es best peart droo,

Eute all a mug o' ale ;
Take, soce, a sliver as a nummett,
Jimmy, your Missus wanty'th zummett,

Ur look'th as if her'd quail."


" Me ? Varmer Voord, I ban't amiss,
But I can't hulder haff zich bliss,"

" Nelly, in this yer nappy;
I wish th' a merry honey-mune,
Grace — be all zingle married zoon,

And all tba marri'd happy !

" And now we'd better all make haste
Ta Barracott's tha weddin' vaist,

Zo let us muve along ;
We'll ait thur mait, thur ale we'll quaff,
Till they vorgit in happy laugh

That weddin' days be long."


Scene out ta Barracott.

tTEGS, Nelly, 'twill be veeveteen year,
^ Naist Zinday zennett, we've be yer,
Es voot Time spraddl'th fore ;
An' tho' es sive bet ligbtly vail,
'E ditbn't fail ta skeer down all,
'E dithn't skip a vore.

" Dear Varmer Voord, an' Dame not yer !
An' their poor cracky lie-a-bier !

There's Dame an' Maister's chair ;
Wi' thick I zem they ba'nt a-go,
I hear ' Jan Anderson my Jo,'

An' zee tha ould pair there.

" Plum be tha zoil a-tap their breast ;
May nort vrom out their place o' rest

Less zweet than vi'lets spring ;
May sexton's shoul, or ploughman's veil
Hulve not wan turf where they two dwell-

Their grute's a holy thing.


" Let's hope Death's raapot is a-clit,
Ha zurely wan't clunt more o's 'it,

Tha bell won't always doll ;
Et auffen wulv'th wi' merrier noise.
(Honey ! we've got two purty buoys,

Peart-an'-parcel of our soul ! ")

" Ees, bit jist now voaks lie in swars,
Guns niver blast in ould Death's wars,

Ha zoon vill'th up es stroll :
Tha cocker' d cheeld, tha doylish chun,
Bushed or unbushed, if Death jet'th one,

Ha must obey es call.

" Zum buckle vor a lang time wi'en,
An' zum sluze down an' niver creen ;

Zum git a rudderish nudge,
Wi' zum 'a hold'th a lang corrosying,
Wi' ithers not an hour's a-cosing,

No dawdhng, they must budge.

" Radge Fuzz went slap-dash, pack an' fardel,
Chucked down by Routledge in a quardel,

'A vailed flump on a shord ;
Scummerd wi' blid, es clathers doused,
'A died wi' jeers vrom all tha house,

He calling on es Lord."


Joe, drinking bed-ale wort next day,
Went wi' tlia bellyharm away ;

An' pumble -footed Will,
Wi' croping Churcb-house grilles long fed,
Chammed a crurne mite o' warm clit bread.

An' made a churchyard hill.

Old Jones and Smith, two half-saved fools.
Ait gullamouths o' pixy- stools

To kill a score enoo ;
Young litterpouchy, lop-legged Hunt
Hid Ned the michard in a bunt,

And fairly squeezed en droo'.

The dawcock buoy, young Harry Tulk,
Was pixy-led into a pulk, s

An' there we found en dead ■
Drink had begoodger'd creunting Dick,
An' a cricked his niddick way a pick,

Which made Dick gook his head.

At Varmer Voss, ta Comb's, gurt survey,
A tut turned young Giles topsey turvey,

An' vump a-cum on tha vad ;
Two buoys at their gammets in a brake,
One's sparrabled shoes kicked tither's neck,

Tha horseplay killed tha lad.


Suke died to grubby Sam's upsetting
A-cause ber aller wanted letting,

Or jist a soak in barm ;
Ould Tom tba tucker was strick by dinder,
Es clibby-moutb buoy vailed out o' winder,

Down ta Hulsander Varni.

Stiverpowl George, wi' tb' aigle tootb,
Tbat lerrupped Blake vor kissing Ruth,

Was broached by Gommer's bull ;
A blunk o' vire skrent Chrisemore Nan ;
Buddled in 's drink was runty Jan,

Tha hesk es mostly vull.

Doan sheets cawed poor Want-catcher Ned,
They didn't coalvarty es bed

Down ta tha ' Bunting Tups ; '
A slinnaway stram vrom Balsden's evil
Sent Cat-handed Huphrey to tha ,

Vor all es chucky chups.

" Law ! massy Jim, ot kautch be tellin',
On ivry shammock 'e be dwellin',

Let's cuff another tale ;
Vrom limbick thee shalt ha' a gill,
O't do 'e think o' leetle Will ?

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Online LibraryBoston (Mass.). Election DeptJim and Nell: a dramatic poem in the dialect of North Devon → online text (page 1 of 3)