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Yorkshire Dialect: A Windy Welcome

Mike Shaw tells a windy dialect tale.

We're dooin' sooa weel fer weather just naah 'at Jack Bamforth an' me 'ave been aat walkin' tuthri tahmes a week. It wer fair grand an' sunny, wen we set off t' other mornin' fer a walk up onta t' tops ovverlookin' t' valley.

Th' air wer just lahke champagne up theer, an' we met quaht a few other fowk 'at wer aat enjoyin' th' autumn sunshane.

A couple o' lasses on 'orseback trotted past us, an Ah telled Jack 'at Ah'd allis thowt that wer t' best way to see t' countrysahde. "Ah promised missen 'at wen Ah retahred Ah'd bah a 'orse an' trap, but wen t' tahme came Ah fun aat aah mich it wer baan ter cost an' that wer th' end o' that idea," Ah sed. "Ah allis envied yond farmer, Willie Brook, 'at drove raand i' a 'orse an' carriage wen we wer lads. Dosta remember 'im?"

"Aye, Ah remember 'im awlreight," replahd Jack. "E 'ad a 'orse called Dolly an' 'e used ter gooa raand in 'is trap as if 'e owned t' bloomin' spot."

"They used ter tell a reight gooid tale abaat Willie, tha nooas," Ah sed as we stopped fer a breeather. "Apparently, 'is wahfe's brother, a posh fella fra London, wer comin' ter stop wi' Willie an' 'is missus fer a few days.

Sooa Willie thowt it'd impress 'im if 'e went daan ter t' station in th' 'orse an' trap ter pick 'im up off t' train.

"Dolly wer trottin' along nahcely past t' Rooase an' Craan wen awl on a sudden shoo broke wind an' let aat a reight raspberry. Willie wer a bit embarrassed, o course, sooa 'e turned to 'is brother-in-law an' sed: "Ah'm varry sorry abaat that, Edward."

"Oh, that's quite alright," replahd Edward, in 'is posh accent. "If you hadn't mentioned it I would have thought it was the horse!"


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