Open Writing

Nah it wor some varry stuck-up fowk knawn as Pharisees 'at unknowin'ly got Jesus ter tell one of 'is mooast famous tales. Tha sees, they'd been chunterin' an' carryin' on because Jesus wor spendin' a lot of 'is time talkin' ter tax-gatherers an' such-like — fowk 'at t' Pharisees thowt as common as muck. An' one day Jesus turns ter t' Pharisees, an' 'e says ...

The' wor once a well-ter-do farmer 'at 'ad two lads. T' youngest on 'em comes up to 'is fatther, an' 'e says: 'Fatther, will ta gi'e me my share o' t' land?' T' farmer must a' been reight ta'en aback bi this. T' deeacent thing ter do is ter cahr quiet till thi fatther dees afooare tha starts axin' fer thi legacy. 'Ahiwer, t' fatther thowt 'e'd gi'e t' lad a chance — see what 'e could do on 'is awn, like — so 'e gev 'im 'is share o' t' land.

Well, would yer credit it? No sooiner does 'e gerr 'is 'ands on it than t' lad sells it all, taks all t' brass, an' goes off inter foreign parts. An' theeare 'e 'as a grand owd time, blewin' in all 'is brass, wi' all 'is mates, an' plenty o' fancy-women. 'E stays up till all 'ahrs, an' mooast o' t' time 'e's as drunk as a shovel.

Ah, but when 'e'd spent all 'is brass, it wor a different tale! 'E'd no mates then, ner lady-friends nawther. An' 'e ended up wi' a bit of a job on a farm, lookin' after t' pigs. By Gum! What a come-dahn fer a Jeew! The' think ther's nowt muckier ner a pig, tha knaws, does t' Jeews. But even though it sickened 'im off — 'e 'ad ter do it. Ee! an' 'e wor that 'ungry 'e could 'ave getten dahn on 'is 'ands an' knees an' etten t' pig-swill!

Then, all of a sudden, t' lad comes to 'is senses. 'Ee, Ah am a fooil!' 'e says to 'issen. 'A reight blether-'eead! Ther's fowk workin' fer mi fatther 'at can eyt an' sup ter the'r 'eart's content. An' 'ere am I, pinin' ter deeath! Ah mun go back to mi fatther. Ah s'll say to 'im: 'Fatther, Ah've done wrong. Ah'm nooan fit to be a son o' thine. Gi'e us a job as one o' thi farm-workers. That's all Ah ax.'

So 'e sets off back 'ooam, an' after trailin' monny a mile 'e lands up i' regs an' tatters, an' wi' an empty belly. But a long while af-ooare 'e gets ter t' farm 'is fatther sees 'im, an' instead o' goin' off 'at t' deep end, 'e rushes aht to meet 'im, thraws 'is arms rahn t' lad an' kisses 'im — 'E felt that sorry fer 'im, tha sees.

T' poor lad starts t' speech 'at 'e'd re'earsed: 'Fatther, Ah've done wrong. Ah'm nooan fit to be a son o' thine —' But 'is fatther butts in, an' calls aht ter t' servants:
'Come on! Frame yersens! This lad's starvin' aht 'ere — frozzen ter deeath! Bring 'im summat wahrm ter weear — bring 'im mi top coit ... An' 'e's nowt on 'is feet. Bring 'im a pair o' booits ... An' go an' kill yon cawf i' t' mistal — t' one 'at we've been fettenin' up. We're bahn to 'ave a celebration ... Ah thowt this lad o' mine wor deead — an' e's alive ageean! Ah thowt 'e wor lost — an' 'e's come back 'ooam!'

An' sooin the' wer' 'evin' a proper 'ooam-comin', wi' food, an' mewsic an' lively dancin'. It wor a reight gooid do, Ah'll tell thi!

But t' lad's elder brutther wor still workin' aht i' t' fields. At t' end o' t' day, when 'e got near t' 'ahse, 'e 'eeard mewsic an' dancin'. 'E says ter t' servants: 'What's up? What's all t' celebrations abaht?' 'It's thi' brutther!' they answer. "E's come back 'ooam, an' thi fatther's as pleased as Punch, cos 'es nut come to onny 'arm.'

But t' elder brutther wor fewrious. An' 'e stood theeare i' t' yard, sulkin' away, an' refewsin' ter go in. In a bit, 'is fatther come aht to 'im, an' started pleadin' wi' 'im to come in, an' stop bein' such a jealous mawk.

'Nay, farther,' says t' lad. 'Ah've slaved fer thee all these years. Ah've worked mi' fingers ter t' booane, an' Ah've niwer done owt to upset thi. But tha's nut gi'en me even so much as a bit o' gooat-meyt, so Ah could thraw a party fer mi' mates. But as sooin as this son o' thine turns up, after chuckin' all that brass dahn t' drain, an' livin' wi' fancy-women — tha' goes an' kills t' fetted cawf fer 'im!'

'Nay, lad, says t' fatther. 'Tha's allus been one o' t' family — an' tha can 'ave owt tha wants — but terday's summat special. Wi couldn't but mak a bit of a fuss. Wi thowt this brutther o' thine wor deead — an' 'e's alive ageean. Wi thowt e' wor lost — an' 'e's come back 'ooam.'

Well, that's wheeare t' stooary ends — but Ah bet it gev yon Pharisees summat ter think abaht — 'cos the' wer' just like t' elder brutther, tha knaws — allus takkin' a pride i' the'r achievements. An' when Jesus said 'at t' Almighty — like this fatther — 'ould fergive 'is childer, so long as they awned up the'd done wrong — the' didn't like it one bit ... The' wer' funny-ossities wer' t' Pharisees — An' Ah reckon ther's plenty on 'em abaht terday, an' all ... Nay, y'd 'a' thowt yon lad 'ould 'a' been glad ter see 'is brutther — t' self-reighteous monkey! Eh dear! Ther's nowt so queer as fowk.