Читать книгу Folk-Speech of Cumberland and Some Districts Adjacent. Being Short Stories and Rhymes in the Dialects of the West Border Counties онлайн

17 страница из 36

Bee t’ time I gat to Portinskeàl, I’d begon to tire! T’ wedder was slattery, t’ rwoads was slashy, t’ basket was heavy, an’ t’ top sark meàd me het; but t’ thowtes o’ hevin’ forgitten sūm’at tew’t mè t’ warst of o’. I rūstit theear a bit—gat anudder pint, an’ coontit my things ower and ower, “Ten for Betty!—yan for my-sel.” I cūd mak nowder mair nor less on them. Cockswūnters!—what hed I forgitten? Or what was’t ’at meàd mè suer I’d forgitten sūm’at when I’d o’ t’ things wid mè?

I teuk t’ rwoad agean mair nor hoaf crazy.

I stop’t ūnder a tree aside Springbank, an’ Dr.—— com’ ridin’ up through t’ rain, on his black galloway. “Why, Robert,” says he, “ye look as if ye’d lost something.” “Nay, doctor,” says I, “here t’ check an’ t’ tape an’ t’ threed—I’ lost nowte—that’s three. Here t’ soat, an’ t’ seàp, an’ t’ starch, an’ t’ steàn-blue—that’s sebben—I’ lost nowte, but I’ forgitten sum’at. Here t’ tea, an’ t’ sugger, an’ t’ rūbbin’ bottle—that’s ten; an’ here t’ ’bacca—that’s elebben.—Ten for Betty, an’ yan for me! Ten for Betty, an’ yan for me!! Doctor, doctor,” says I, “fwoke say ye ken oa things—what hev I forgitten?” “I’ll tell ye what ye haven’t forgotten,” says he, “ye haven’t forgotten the ale at Keswick. Get home, Robert, get home,” says he, “and go to bed and sleep it off.” I believe he thowte I was drūnk; but I wasn’t—I was no’but maizelt wid tryin’ to finnd oot what I’d forgitten.