Letter From America: Guid An’ Bad Noos Abaht Legs
Yorkshire lad Ronnie Bray brings us a reight grand tale told in rhyme.
‘E’d nivver ‘ad gud legs,
Sin’ ‘e wor twenty-fahve.
‘Cos ‘at’s when ‘e cummed off his bahk
An’ wor lukky ter bi alahve.
‘E’d okkered for a duzzin yahrs
Abaht avin’ ‘em fixed up reit,
Cos ‘is doctor telled ‘im if ‘e din’t
‘E’d bi gimped bi fot’ty-eyt.
An’ sooa, wen one ‘ad gait sooa bad
As ‘e ‘s nobbut ‘Obson’s choice
‘E tuk hissen te’t’ospital
An’ telled ‘em, "Du thi wust!"
They rubbed ‘im dahn wi’vinnigar
And stuck ‘im in a dress
‘At wor clooased at’t’frunt
But oppen to a rearwads icy blast.
‘E supped sum stuff they givved ‘im
An’ the next thing as ‘e noo
‘E wor wakkin’ up an’ laffin’
Lahk ‘e did wen ‘e wor brewed!
An’t doctor chap wor standin’ theear
An’ lukkin’ summat grim.
"‘A’ve getten summat okkard
As that mun nooa," ‘e sed tu ‘im.
"Ther’s summat gud, and summat rum,
An’ it’s really up ter thi
Which un tha wents ter know for’t fust,
And which un tha’ll weit ter see."
Ther wor a minnit’s sahlence then
As patint shuk ‘is ‘yed,
As if ‘e wor afiggrin o’er
What the surgin chappy sed.
"Tha sez tha’s summat gud ter say,
and summat ter mak me bust.
If ‘at’s thi messidge, sawbones,
Tha kin tell mi’t wust un fust."
Well, t'doctor man lukked troubled
But ‘e bent dahn to ‘is ear,
an’ wisppit in his shell lahke,
‘Ave cut off rang leg, ah fear!"
"Tha’s wot!" the patint shahted,
An’ graahled lahk a rabid setter.
"An’ wots thi gud news, tell me!"
T'doc laffed, "Thi other un’s gerrin’ better!"
© 2010 – Ronnie Bray
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http://yorkshiretales.com/journalsnormagoodwin/
