BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Henrg W. Snge 1891 .^..Z..-rf..Z.<^.S:e. ■ .3.6:/.Js^//..f, Cornell University Library The original of tiiis bool< is in tile Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026537773 Cornell University Library PE 2031.J54 Dialect of the west of England 3 1924 026 537 773 THE DIALECT OF THE WEST OF ENGLAND, PARTICULAKLY ^oiners!ttsiI)ire* " Goo little Reed ! " Afora tha vawk, an vor me plead : *• Thy wild nawtes, mar-be, tha ool hire "Zooner than zater vrom a lare. " ZlL that thy Maester*s pleas'd ta blaw 'em, " An haups in time tha'U come ta knaw 'em. " An nif za he tha'll please ta heai, ** A'U gee zum moor another year."— TA« Farewell. THE ]xdtd ai % Mt^t of ingtenir, PARTICUtAELY SOMERSETSHIRE; WITH A GLOSSAEY OF WORDS NOW IN USE THERE ; ALSO WITH POEMS AND OTHER PIECES EXEMPLIFYING THE DIALECT. By JAMES JENNINGS, HONOBABT SECRETARY OF THE METROPOLITAN LITERARY INSTITUTION, LONDON. SECOND EDITION, THE WHOLE REVISED, CORRECTED, AND ENLARGED, WITH TWO DISSERTATIONS ON THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS, AND OTHER PIECES, By JAMES KNIGHT JENNINGS, M.A., Late Scholar av^L Librarian, Qweems' College, Cairibridge; Vicar of Haghottm, Berkshire : and Minist&r of Catcott DonativCf SomemetsMre. LONDON : JOHN RUSSELL SMITH, 36, SOHO SQUARE. MDCCCLXIX. ^^.■^ 2-0^5'^ TO THA DWELLERS O' THA WEST. Tha Fruit o' longvul labour, years, In theaze veo leaves at last appears. Ta You, tha Dwellers o' tha West, I'm pleas'd that tha shood be addresst : Vor thaw I now in Lunnun dwell, I mine ye still — I love ye well ; And niver, niver shoU vorget I vast drdw'd breath in Zvmmierzet ; Amangst ye liv'd, and left ye zorry, As you'll knaw when you hire my storry. Theaze little Book than take o' me ; 'Tis all I ha just now ta gee. An when you rade o' Tom/my Gool, Or Tommy Game, or Pal at school. Or Mr. Guy, or Fanny Fecn; — (I thank you'll shod vor her a tear) Tha Boohery, or Mamfs Crutch, Tha cap o' which I love ta touch, You'll vine that I do not vorget My naatal swile — dear Zummerzet. JAS. JENNINGS. PEEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. In preparing this second edition of my relative's work, I have incorporated the results of observations made by me during several years' residence in Somer- setshire, in the centre of the district. I have also availed myself by kind permission, of hints and suggestions in two papers, entitled "Somersetshire Dialect," read by T. S. Baynes in 1856, and reprinted from the Taunton Courier, in London, in 1861. During the forty years which have elapsed since the first edition, very much light has been thrown on the subject of Provincial Dialects, and after all much remains to be discovered. I consider with Mr. Baynes that there is more of the pure Anglo-Saxon in the west of England dialect, as this district was the seat of classical Anglo-Saxon, which first rose here to a na- tional tongue, and lasted longer in a great measure owing to its distance from the Metropolis, from which cause also it was less subject to modem modification. I shall be happy to receive any suggestions from Philological scholars, which may increase the light thrown on the subject, and by which a third edition may be improved. Hagboum Vicarage, August, 1869. PREFACE. The usefulness of works like the present is too generally admitted to need any apology for their publication. There is, notwithstanding, in their very nature a dryness, which requires reKef : the author trusts, therefore, that, in blending something imaginative ■with the details of philological precision, his work will afford amusement to the reader. The Glossary contains the fruit of years of unwearied attention to the subject ; and it is hoped that the book will be of some use in elucidating our old' writers, in affording occasional help to the etymology of the Anglo-Saxon portion of our language, and in exhibit- ing a view of the present state of an important dialect of the western provinces of England. A late excursion through the West has, however, induced the Author to believe that some valuable information may yet remain to be gathered from our Anglo-Saxon dialect — more especially from that part of it still used by the common people and the yeo- manry. He therefore respectfully solicits communica- tions from those wio feel an interest in this department of our literature ; by which a second edition may be, materially improved. To a native of the west of England this volume will be found a vade-mecum of reference, and assist the h X PREFACE. reminiscence of well-known, and too often unnoted peculiarities and words, which are fast receding from the polish of elegance,' and the refinement of literature. In regard to the Poetical Pieces, it may be men- tioned that most of them are founded on West Couniry Stories, the incidents in which actually occurred. If some of the subjects should be thought trifling, it must not be forgotten that the primary object has been, to exemplify the Dialect, and that, common subjects oflered the best means of effectuating such an object. Of such Poems as Good Bwye ta thee Got ; the Rookery ; and Mary Ramsey's Crutch, it may be observed, that had the Author felt less he might, perhaps, have written better. Metropolitan Literwry Institution, London, Murch 25, 1825. CONTENTS. Dedication . . . v . Preface to the Second Edition vii Preface to the First Edition ix Observations on some of the Dialects of the West of England, particularly Somersetshire xiii — xxiv A Glossary of Words commonly used in Somerset- shire . . . 1 Poems and other Pieces, exemplifying the Dialect of the County of Somerset 79 Good Bwye ta Thee Cot 81 Fanny Fear 84 Jerry Nutty 90 Legend of Glastonbury 102 Mr. Guy 103 TheEookery 104 Tom Gool Ill Teddy Band — a Zong — Hunting for Sport . . .115 The Churchwarden 119 The Fisherman and the Players 124 Mary Ramsey's Crutch 126 Hannah Verrior 128 XU CONTENTS. Remembrance 129 Doctor Cox 130 The Farewell 138 Farmer Bennet an Jan Lide, a Dialogue . . . 139 Thomas Came an Young Maester Jimmy, a Dia logue 140 Mary, Ramsay, a Monologue 142 Soliloc[uy of Ben Bond . . . . . . 144 Two Dissertation? on Anglo-Saxon Pronouns . .150 Miss Ham on the Somerset Dialect .... 164 Concluding Observations . . - . .164 OBSEEYATIONS, &c. The followiiig Glossary includes the whole of Somerset, Easi of the Eiver Parret, as well as adjoining parts of Wiltshire and Gloucestershire. West of the Parret many of the words are pro- nounced very differently indeed, so as to mark strongly the people who use them. [This may be seen more fully developed in two papers, by T. Spencer Baynes, read before the Somersetshire ArchaBological Society, entitled the Somersetshire Dialect, printed 1861, 18mo, to whom I here acknowledge my obligations for several hints and suggestions, of which I avail myself in this edition of my late relative's work]. The chief peculiarity West of the Parret, is the ending of the third person singular, present tense of verbs, in tli or eth : as, he lov'Oi, zee'th, &c., for he loves, sees, &c. In the pronouns, they have Ise for I, and er for he. In fact the peculiarities and contractions of XIT OBSERVATIONS. the Western District are puzzling to a stranger. Thus, her is frequently used for she. " Har'th a doo'd it," is, she has done it," (I shall occasionally in the Glossary note such words as distinguishingly characterise that district). Two of the most remarkable peculiarities of the dialect of the West of England, and particularly, of Somersetshire, are the sounds given to the vowels A and E. A, is almost always sounded open, as in father, rdtlier, or somewhat like the usual sound of a in balloon, calico, lengthened ; it is so pronounced in ball, call. I shall use for this sound the circum- flex over the a, thus d or a. E, has commonly the same sound as the French gave it, which is, in fact, the slender of A, as heard in pane fane, cane, &c. The hard sound given in our polished dialect to the letters th, in the majority of words containing those letters [as in through, three, thing, thinJc], expressed by the Anglo-Saxon «, is fre- quently changed in the Western districts into the sound given in England to the letter d : as for three, we have dree for thread, dread, or dird, through, droo, throng, drong, or rather drang ; thrush, dirsh, &c. OBSERVATIONS. XV The consonant and vowel following d, changing places. The slender or soft sound given to th in dui polished dialect, is in the West, most com- monly converted into the thick or obtuse sound of the same letters as heard in the words this, these &c., and this too, whether the letters be at the beginning or end of words. I am much disposed to believe that our Anglg-Saxon ancestors, used indiscriminately the letters d and « for D only, and sounded them as such, as we find now frequently in the "West ; although our lexicographers usually have given the two sounds of th to D and « respectively. The vowel is used for a, as hond, dorke, lorhe, hort, in hand, dark, lark, heart, &c., and other syllables are lengthened, as voote, lade, dade, for foot, bed, dead. The letter in tw, gold, &c., is sounded like aw in awful ; I have therefore spelt it with this diphthong instead of a. Such word as jay for joy, and a few others, I have not noted. Another remarkable fact is the disposition to invert the order of some consonants in some words ; as the r in thrush' Irush, rush, run, &c., pronouncing them.dirsh, birsh, hirsh, hirn ; also transposition of p and s in such words as clasp, hasp, asp, &c., sounded claps, haps, aps, &c. I have not inserted all XVi OBSERVATIONS. • , these words in the Glossary, as these general rema^-ks ■will enable the student to detect the words which are so inverted. It is by no means improbaple that the order in which such soiinds are ntiw repeated in the West, is the original order in which they existed in our language, and that our moie polished mode of expressing them is a new and perhaps a corrupt enunciation. Another peculiarity! is that of joining the letter y at the end of some verbs in the infinitive mood, as well as to parts of different conjugations, thus, " I can't sewy, nwrsy, reapy, to sawy, to sewy, to nursy, &c. A further peculiarity is the love of vowel sound, and opening out mono- syllables of our polished dialect into two or more syllables, thus : ay-er, for air ; boo-ath, for both ; fay-er, for fair ; vi-er for fire ; stay-ers for stairs ; show-er for sure ; vroo-rst for post ; boo-ath for both ; bre-ash for brush ; chee-ase for cheese ; kee-ard for card ; gee-ate for gate ; mee-ade for mead ; mee-olk for milk ; &c. Chaucer gives many of them as dissyllables. The verb to be retains much of its primitive form: thus / &e, thou, or thee, beest, or list, we he, you he, OBSERVATIONS. Xvii they he, tha he, are continually heard for / am, &c., he be is rarely used : but he is. In the past tense, war is used for was, and were : I war, thou or thee wart, he war, &c., we have besides, we'm, you'm, they'm, for we, ym, they, are, there is a constant tendency to pleonasm in some cases, as well as to contraction, and elision in others. Thus we have a lost, agone, abought, &c., for lost, gone, bought, &c., Chaucer has many of these prefixes ; but he often uses y instead of a, as ylost. The frequent use of Z and V, the softened musical sounds for S and F, together with the frequent increase and multiplica- tion of vowel sounds, give the dialect a by no means inharmonious expression, certainly it would not be difficult to select many words which may for their modulation compete with others of French extraction, and, perhaps be superior to many others which we have borrowed from other languageSj much less analogous to the polished dialect of our own. I have added, in pursuance of these ideas, some poetical and prose pieces in the dialect of Somersetshire, in which the idiom is tolerably well preserved, and the pronunciation is conveyed in letters, the nearest to the sound of the words, as there are in truth many sounds for which we have neither letters, nor combinations of letters to XVUl OBSERVATIONS. express them. [I migM at some future period, thought advisable, go iato a comparison betwee the sound of all the letters of the alphabet pn nounced in Somersetshire, and in our polishe dialect, but I doubt if the subject is entitled 1 this degree of criticism]. The reader will bear i miad that these poems are composed in the dialei of Somerset, north east of the Parret, which is b far the most general. In the Guardian, published about a century ag is a paper No. 40, concerning pastoral poetr supposed to have been written by Pope, to ext his own pastorals and degrade those of Ambroi Phillips. In this essay there is a quotation from pretended Somersetshire poem. But it is evidei Popeknew little or nothing about the Somersetshi dialect. Here are a few lines from " this old We coimtry bard of ours," as Pope calls him : " Cicely. Ah Eager, Eager, cher was zore avraid, " When in yond vield you kiss'd the parson's maid : " Is this the love that once to me you zed, " When from tha wake thou broughtst me gingerbread f Now first, this is a strange admixture of dialed but neither east, west, north, nor south. Chez is nowhere used ; but in the southern pa utche or iche, is sometimes spoken contracted che. [See utchy in the Glossary]. OBSERVATIONS. xix Yield toT field, should be veel. Wake is not used in Somersetshire ; but revel is the word. Parson, in Somersetshire, dealer, is pdson. In another line he calls the cows, kee, which is not Somersetian ; nor is, be go for begone: it should, be gwon ; nor is I've a be ; but I've a bin, Somersetian. The idiomatic expressions in this dialect are numerous, many will be found in the Glossary; the following may be mentioned. I'd 'sley do it, for 1 would as lief do it. I bave occasionally in the Glossary suggested the ety- mology of some words; by far the greater part have an Anglo-Saxon, some perhaps a Danish origin; [and when we recollect that Alfred the Great, a good Anglo-Saxon scholar, was born at Wantage in Berks, on the border of Wilts, had a palace at Chippenham, and was for some time resident in Athelney, we may presume that traditional remains of him may have influenced the language or dialect of Somersetshire, and I am inclined to think that the present language and pronunciation of Somer- setshire were some centuries past, general in the south portion of our island.] XX OBSERVATIONS. In compiling this Glossary, I give the fruits of twenty-five years' assiduity, and have defined words, not from books, but from actual usage ; I have however carefully consulted Junius, Skmner, MinsTww, and some other old lexico- graphers; and find many of their definitions correspond with my own ; but I avoid conjectural etymology. Few dictionaries of our language are to be obtained, published from the iuvention of print- ing to the end of the 16th century, a period of about 150 years. They throw much light on our provincial words, yet after all, our old writers are our chief resource, [and doubtless many MSS. in various depositories, ^vritten at different periods, and recently brought to light, from the Eecord and State Paper Of&ce, and historical societies, will throw much light on the subject] ; and an abundant harvest offers in examining them, by which to make an amusing book, iUustrativeof our provincial words and ancient manners. I think we cannot avoid arriving at the conclusion, that the Anglo-Saxon dialect, of which I conceive the Western dialect to be a striking portion, has been gradually giving way to our polished idiom ; and is considered a barbarism, and yet many of the sounds of that dialect are found in Holland and OBSERVATIONS. xxi Germany, as a part of the living language of these countries. I am contented v/ith having thus far elucidated the language of my native county. I have omitted several words, which I supposed provincial, and which are frequent to the west, as they are found in the modern dictionaries, still I have allowed a few, which are in Eichardson's Johnson. Thee is used for the nominative thou; which latter word is seldom used, diphthong sounds used in this dialect are : uai, uoa, uoi, uoy, as guain, (gwain), quoat, buoil, buoy ; such is the disposition to pleonasm in the use of the demonstrative pronouns, that they are very often used with the adverb there. Thedze here, thick there, [thicky there, west of the Parret] theasam here, theazamy here, them there, themmy there. The sub- stitution of V for F, and Z (Izzard, Shard, for S, is one of the strongest words of numerous dialects.) In words ending withp followed by s, the letters change places as : hasp — haps ; clasp — claps, wasp — waps ; In a paper by General Vallancey in the second xxii OBSERVATIONS. volume of the Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy, read Dec. 27, 1788, it appears that a colony of English soldiers settled in the Baronies of Forth Bargie, in the county of Wexford, in Ireland, in 1167, 1168, and 1169 ; and that colony preserved their customs, manners, and language to 1788. There is added in that paper a vocabulary of their language, and a song, handed down hy tradition from the arrival of the colony more than 600 years since. I think there can be no question that these Irish colonists were from the West of England, from the apparent admixture of dialects in the vocabulary and song, although the language is much altered from the Anglo-Saxon of Somer- setshire.* The words nouth, knoweth ; zin, sin, vrast, frost ; die, day ; Zathardie, Saturday ; Zindii, Sunday; and a few others, indicate an origin west of the Parret. There are many words which with a trifling alteration in spelling, would suit at the present time the north eastern portion * This subject has been more fully treated in the following work : A Glossary, with some pieces of verse of the old dialect of the English colony in the Baronies of Forth and Bargy, Co. Wexlbrd, Ireland. Formerly collected by Jacob Poole, of Growton, now edited with Notes and Introduction by the Eev. W. Barnes, author of the Dorset Poems and Glossary, fcap. 8vo, 1867. OBSERVATIONS. xxiii of the county : as blauther, bladder : crwest, crust ; smill, smell ; shiVy to rise in the air [see sheer] ; vier, fire ; vier, a weasel ; zar, to serve ; zatch, such, &c. From such vs^ords as ch'am, add cKuh, the southern part of the county is clearly indicated. I think the disposition to elision and contraction is as. evident here as it is at present in Somersetshire In the song, there are marks of its having undergone change since its first introduction. Lowthee is evidently derived from lewth [see Glossary] lewthy, will be, abounding in lewth, i. e. sheltered. The line " As ly mizluck wus I pit f drive in" would ia the present Somerset dialect stand thus : " Tliat hy misluck war a put ta dreav in." That by mis luck was placed to drive in. In the line '• Chote well ar aim wai f yie ouz n'eer a hlowe," the word chete is, I suspect, compounded of 'ch' \iche\ and knew, implying 1 knew, or rather I knew'd, or knewt* * The following is from an amatory poem, written in or about the reign of Henry II., during -which the colony of the English was estahlished in the county of Wexford. " Ichoz- from heune iz is me sent.." Xxiv OBSEKVATIONS. The modern Englisli of the line will then be, 1 knew well their aim was to give us ne'r a How. I suspect zitchel is compounded of zitch, snch, and the auxiliary verb will. I view ame, is a veo o'm ; that is, a few of them. Ernethee, is emmtey, that is, abounding with ants. Meulten away, is melting away. Th'ast ee pait it, thee'st a paid it ; thou hast paid it. In the English translation which accompanies the original sov^ in General Vallancey's paper, some of the words are, I think, beyond controversy misin- terpreted, but I have not room to go critically through it. All I desire should be inferred from these remarks is, that, although this Anglo-Saxon curiosity is well worthy the attention of those who take an interest in our early literature, we must be careful not to assume that it is a pure specimen of the language of the period to which, and of the people to whom, it is said to relate. In Jolinsoii's History of tiie English Language, page liii. it is thus translated — " I wot (believe) it is sent me from heaven." To an admirer of our Anglo-Saxon all the lines, twelve in number, quoted by M. Todd with the above, will be found a rich treat : want of space only prevents my giving them here. A • GLOSSARY OF WORDS COMMONLY USED IN THE CDuntp of ^oimrgft, BUT WHICH ABE NOT AOOCEPTBD AS LEGITIMATE WOBDS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE; OE WORDS WHICH, ALTHOUGH ONCE USED GENBEALLV, AEB NOW BECOME PROVINCIAL. 9 A GLOSSARY OF WORDS USED IN SOMERSETSHIRE. A. A. adv. Yes ; or pron. He : as a zed a'd do it ; he said he'd do it. Aa'tli, s. earth. Ab'bey. s. The great white poplar: one of the varieties of the populus cdba. Ab 'bey-lubber, s. A lazy, idle fellow. Abought. part. Bought. See Vaught. Abrood'. adv. When a hen is sitting on her eggs she is said to be abrood. Ad'dle. s. A swelling with matter in it. Ad 'died. a. Having pus or corruption ; hence Ad'dled-egg. s. An egg in a state of putrefaction. Affeard'. a. Afraid. .A_fo ro ^ Afo' ( prep, and adv. Before ; afore, Chaucer. Again, prep. Against. Agon'. J adv. [these words literally mean gone.] A goo'. \ Ago ; agoo, Chaucer; from the verb to ffoo, i.e. to go ; he is up and agoo ; he is up and gone. 4 GLOSSARY. Alas-a-d^y. interj. A-lack-a^day. Ale. s. A liquor, brewed witli a proportion of malt from about four to six bushels to the hogshead of 63 gallons ; if it contain more malt it is called heer ; if less, it is usually called small beer. Aller. s. The alder tree. Alles. adv. Always. All'once. 'pron. [all ones] or rather (all o'n's) All of us ; Lefs go allonce ; let us go all of us. All o's. pron. All of us. Alost'. pmrt. Lost : ylost, Gha/ucer. Amang . prep. Among. ^^^-^f- \adv. Almost. Amoo ast ) Am per. s. A small red pimple. Anby'. adv. Some time hence ; in the evening. Anear'. \ Ane'ast. \prep. Nigh to; aneast en, near him. Aneoust', ' Aneen. On end, upright. An'passy. s. The sign &, corrupted from and per se. Anty. adj. Empty. Apast'. part, and prep. Past; a/past. Chancer. A'pricock. s. An apricot. Aps. a. The asp tree ; populus tremula. Aps'en. a. Made of the wood of the asp ; belonging to the asp. To Arg. V. n. To argue. GLOSSARY. 5 To Ar'gufy. v. n.. To hold an argument ; to argue. Ascri'de. adv. Across ; astride. Aslen'. adv. Aslope. Assu'e. adj. When a co-w is let up in order that she may calve, she is said to be assue — ^having no milk. Ater. prep. After. Goo ater'n : go after him. Athiu. adv. Within. Athout. prep. Without. Auverdro. v. a. Overthrow. Avaur'. \ AY3Mi-'eii.lprep. Before. Avaurn. } Avoordin. part. Affording. Avraur'. adj. Frozen ; stiff with frost. Awa kid. adj. Awake ; awakid, Chaucer. To Ax. V. a. To ask ; ax, Chaucer. Ax'en. s. pi. Ashes. Axing, s. and paa-t. Askiag ; axing, Chaucer. Ay'ir. s. Air. B. Back'sid. s. a barton. Back'y. s. Tobacco. Bad. adv. Badly. Bade. s. Bed. Ba'ginet. s. Bayonet. Baily. s. A bailiff; a superintendent of an estate. ,6 GLOSSAKY. Ball. adj. Bald. Ballet, s. Ballad. Ball'rib. s. A sparerib. To Bal'Urag. v. a. To abuse with, foul words ; to scold. To Ban, v. a. To shut out ; tp stop. To Bane. ■». a. To afflict witli a mortal disease ; ap- plied to steep. See to Coathe. To Barenbond', ') v. n. (used chiefly in the third person To Banehond'. J singular) to signify intention ; to intimate. These words are in very common use in the West of England. It is curious to note their gradation from Chaucer, whose expression is Beren hem on hond, or bare him on hand; imply- ing always, it appears to me, the same meaning as I have given to the words above. There is, I think, no doubt, that these expressions of Chaucer, which he has used several times in his works, are figurative ; when Chaucer tells us he beren hem in hond, the literal meaning is, he carried it in, or on, his hand so that it might be readily seen. " To bea/r on hwnd, to affirm, to relate." — Jamie- son's Etymological Scots Dictionary. But, what- ever be the meaning of these words in Chaucer, and at the present time in Scotland, the above is the meaning of them in the west of England. Banes, s. pi. The banns of matrimony. Ban'nin. s. That which is used for shutting out or stopping. GLOSSARY. 7 Ban'nut. s. A ■walnut. [Only used in northern parts of county.] Barrow-pig. s. A gelt pig. BawTser. ") s. A stone used for whetting scythes; Baw'ker-stone. j a kind of sand-stone. To Becall'. v. a. To censure ; to reprove ; to chide. Bee'as. Is. pi. [Beasts] Cattle. Applied only to Oxen Bease. J not Sheep. Bee-but. Bee-lippen. Bee'dy. s. A chick. Beedy's-eyes. s.pl. Pansy, love-in-idleness. Beer. s. See Ale. Befor'n. prep. Before. To Begird'ge, \ ^ j . To Begru4e- r- "• ^° ^^'^^^ ^ *° '"^^- Lord Byron has used the verb begrudge in his notes to the 2nd canto of Childe Harold. >• s. A bee-hive. Begor'z. |. . Begum'mer s j ■'■ These words are, most probably, oaths of assevera- tion. The last appears to be a corruption of by godmothers. Both are thrown into discourse very frequently : Begv/nvmers, I ont tell; I cant do it hegorz. Begr um pled, pa/rt. Soured j offended. To Belg. V. n. To cry aloud ; to bellow. ! GLOSSARY. iell-flo-wer. s. A daffodil. 'o Belsh. v.a. To cut off dung, &c., from the tails of steep, leneapt. part. Left aground by the recess of the spring tides, o Benge. v. n. To remain long in drinkiag ; to drink to excess, len'net. v. Long coarse grass, ien'nety. adj. Abounding in bennets. ier'riu. s. [burying] A funeral procession. Beskum'mer. v. a. To foul with a dirty liquid ; to besmear. o Bethink' v. a. To grudge. iettermost. ctd^. The best of the better; not quite amounting to the best. ietwat'tled. pa/rt. In a distressing and confused state of mind. o Betwit'. V. a. To upbraid ; to repeat a past circum- stance aggravatingly. o Bib'ble. v. n. To drink often ; to tope. ib'bler. s. One who drinks often ; a toper. il'lid. adj. Distracted; mad. iUly. s. A bundle of wheat straw. ii'meby. adv. By-and-by ; some time hence. !in. conj. Because ; probably corrupted from, being. lin'nick. s. A small fish ; minnow ; Gyprinus pMoadrms. GLOSSAET. 9 Bird-battin. s. The catching of birds ■with a net and lights by night. Fielding uses the expression. Bird-battin-net. s. The net used in bird-battin. Birch'en. adj. Made of birch ; relating to birch. Bis'gee. s. (g hard), A rooting axe. Bisky. s. Biscuit. The pronunciation of this word approximates nearer to the sound of the French cuit [" twice baked "] the t being omitted in this dialect. To Bi'ver. v. n. To quiver ; to shake. Black-pot. s. Black-pudding. Black'ymoor. s. A negro. Blackymoor's-beauty. s. S-weet scabious ; the musk- flower. Blanker, s. A spark of fire. Blans'cue. s. Misfortune ; unexpected accident. Blather, s. Bladder. To blather, v. n. To talk fast, and nonsensically [to talk so fast that bladders form at the moutK\ Bleachy. adj. Brackish ; saltish : applied to water. Blind-buck-and-Davy. e. Blind-man's buff. BUndbuck and have ye, is no doubt the origin of this appella- tion for a well-known amusement. Blis'som. ad. Blithesome. Blood-sucker, s. A leech. Bloody-warrior, s. The wall-flower. Boar. s. The peculiar head or first flowing of water from one to two feet high at spring tides, in the .0 GLLSSARY. river Parret a few miles below and at Bridge- water, and in some other rivers. [In Johnson's Dictionary this is spelt lore ; I prefer the above spelling. I believe the word is derived from the animal Boar, from the noise, rushing, and impetuosity of the water, Todd gives it " a tide swelling above another tide.'' Writers vary in. their opinions on the causes of this phenomenon. St. Pierre. Ouvres, tom vi, p. 234, Ed. Hamburgh, 1797, describes it not exactly the same in the Seine as in the Parret : — " Cette montagne d'eau est produite par les marles qui entrent, de la mer dans la Seine, et la font refluer contre son cours. On I'appelle la Ba/rre, parce- qu'elle harre le cours de la Seine. Cette barre eat suivSe d'une seconde barre plus elevSe, qui la suit a cent toises de distance. EUes courent beaucoup plus vite qu'un cheval au galop." He says it is called Bar, because it bars the cm-rent. In the Encyclop. Metropol., art. Bore, the editor did not seem more fortunate in his derivation. 3obbish. adj. In health and spirits. \Pirty bobbish, pretty well.] Bonk. s. Bank. Booat. s. Boat. Booath. pron. Both. " Boo'ath o' ye ; both of you. Bor'rid. adj. A sow is said to be horrid whep she wants the male. Bote. part. Bought. GLOSSAKY. 1 1 Bow. s. A small arched bridge. Boy's-love. s. Southernwood; a species of mugwort; artemisia abrotonum. Brave, adj. Well ; recoveriag. Bran. s. A brand ; a. stump of a tree, or other irre- gular and large piece of wood, fit only for burning. Bran-vier. s. A fire made with brands. Bran'dis. s. A semicircular implement of iron, made to be suspended over the fire, on which various things may be prepared ; it is much used for warming milk. Brash, s. Any sudden development ; a crash. Brickie, Brick'] Brim'mle. s. A bramble. To Bring gwain. v. a. [To bring going.] To spend ; to accompany some distance on a journey. To Brit. V. a. To indent ; to make an impression : applied to solid bodies. Brock, s. An irregular piece of peat dried for fuel ; a piece of turf. See Tubp. iadj. Not coherent; easily separable : applied to solid bodies. " My things are but in a bruckle state." Waverley, v. 2, p. 328, edit. 1821. See Brickle. Bruckleness. s. The state of being bruckle. To Buck. V. n. To swell out. To Bud'dle. v. To suffocate in mud. kle ) I ,, ' >adj. Brittle ; easily broken. m GLOSSARY. To Bulge. V. a. To indent ; to make an irregular impression on a solid body ; to bruise. It is also used in a neuter sense. Bulge, s. An indentation ; an irregular impression made on some solid body ; a swelling outwards or depression inwards. Bul'len. adj. Wanting the bull. Bullins. s. pi. Large black sloes ; a variety of the wild plum. Bun'gee. s. (g hard), Any thing thick and squat. Bunt, "1 Bunting,;*- ^''^^^S^l"*^- Bunt. s. A bolting-mill. To Bunt. V. a. To separate flour from the bran. Bur'cot. s. A load. Buss. s. A half grown calf. But. s. A conical and peculiar kind of basket or trap used in large numbers for catching salmon in the river Parret. The term but, would seem to be a generic one, the actual meaning of which I do not know ; it implies, however,* some containing vessel or utensil. See Bee-but. But, applied to beef, .always means buttock. Butter-and-eggs. s. A variety of the daffodil. Bwile. V. Boil. Bwye. interj. Bye ! adieu. This, as well as good-bye and good-bwye, is evidently corrupted from God be with you; God-be- wi' ye, equivalent to the French d, Dieu, to God. Bwye, and good-bwye, GLOSSAKT. 13 are, therefore, hovr vulgar soever they may seem, more analogous than bye and good-bye. 0. Callyvan'. s. a pyramidal trap for catching birds. Car'riter. s. Character. CS,s. Because. Cass'n, Cass'n't. Canst not ; as, Thee cass'n do it, thou canst not do it. Catch corner. A game commonly called elsewhere puss in the corner. Cat'terpUlar. s. The cockchafer; Sca/rabeus tnelo- lontha. West of the Parret this insect is called woch- web, oak- web, because it infests the oah, and spins its web on it in great numbers. Chaity. adj. Careful ; nice ; delicate. To Cham. v. a. To chew. Chamer. s. A chamber. Change, s. A shift; the garment worn by females next the skin. Chay'er. s. A chair ; chayer — Chaucer. Chick-a-beedy. s. A chick. 'Chill. I will. Chimley. s. A chimney. Chine, s. The prominence of the staves beyond the head of a cask. This word is well known to 14 GLOSSARY. coopers throughout England, and ought to be in our dictiouaries. To Chis'som. v. n. To bud ; to shoot out. Chis'som. s. a small shoot ; a budding out. Chit'terlins. s. pi. The frills around the bosom of shirt. Choor. s. A job; any dirty household -work; a troublesome job. Choor 'er, I i. A woman who goes out to do any Choor'- woman, J kind of odd and dirty work ; hence the term char-woman in our polished dialect; but it ought to be choor-woman. To Choory. v. To do any kind of dirty household work. Chub'by. adj. Full, swelling ; as chubby-faced. Claps, s. A clasp. To claps. V. a. To clasp. ClSvy and Cldvy-piece. s. A mantel-piecce. [Cla/ut/ was probably given to that piece of wood or other material laid over the front of the fire- place, because in many houses the keys are often hung on nails or pins driven into it ; hence from clavis (Latin) a key, comes clavy, the place where the keys are hung.] Clavy- tack. s. The shelf over [tacked on to] the mantel-piece. Clear-and-sheer. adv. Completely ; totally. Cleve-pink. s. A species of Carnation which grows wild in the crannies of Cheddar-cliffs : a variety of the Dianihus deltoides ; it has an elegant smell. GLOSSARY. 15 J- V. a. To climb ; to clamber. To Clim. To dimmer. Clinters. s.pl. Bricks or other earthy matter run into irregular shapes by action of heat. Clinker-bell. s. An icicle. Clint, v.a. To clench ; to finish ; to fasten firmly. Oliver-and-Shiver. adv. Completely; totally. Clit. V. n. To be imperfectly fermented : applied to bread. Clit'ty. adj. Imperfectly fermented. Clize. s. A place or drain for the discharge of water regulated by a valve or door, which permits a free outlet, but no inlet for return of water. Coase. adj. Coarse. Coathe. v. a. To bane : applied to sheep. Cob-wall. s. Mud-wall; a wall made of clay mixed with straw. Cockygee. s. Cockagee ; a rough sour apple. Cocklawt. s. A garret ; cock-loft. Originally, most probably, a place where the fowls roosted. Cock-squailing. a. A barbarous game, consisting in tying a cock to a stake, and throwing a stick at him from a distance till he is killed. Cock-and-Mwile. s. A jail. Colley. n. A blackbird. To Collogue. V. n. To associate in order to carry out some improper purpose, as thieves. 16 GLOSSABT. [Two such rascals coZfog'Me together for miscliief. Kob Roy, p. 319, ed. 1821.] CoUo'gia. s. (g hard). An association for some im- proper purpose, (Jolmson defines it flattery ; wheedling ; which does not convey the correct meaning.) Colt-ale. s. (Sometimes called /ooiiwgr or foot-ale) lite- rally ale given, or money paid for ale, by a person entering on a new employment, to those already in it. Comforts (comfits.) s. pi. Sugared corianders, cinna- mon, &c. Com'ical. adj. Odd ; singular. Contraption, s. Contrivance ; management. Coop, inierj. Come up ! a word of call to fowls to be fed. To Cork. V. a. Cawk ; calk ; to set on a horse's shoes sharp points of iron to prevent slipping on ice. To Count. V. n. To think ; to esteem. Cow-baby. s. A coward ; a timid person. To Crap, i v. n. to snap ; to break with a sudden To Crappy. J sound ; to crack. Crap. s. A smart sudden sound. Craup. preterite of creep. Cre'aped. Crept. Creem. s. Sudden shivering. CreSmy. adj. Afieoted with sudden shivering. Creeplin. part. Creeping. CJLOSSART.: 1 7 Crips., adj. Crisp. Criss-cross-lain. s. The alphabet;, so called. in conssr quence of its being formeriy preceded in the horn- hook by a "J- to remind us of the cross of Christ ; hence ■ the term Ghrisi-Gross-line came at last to mean nothing more than the alphabet. Crock. 8. A bellied pot, of iron or other metal, for boiling food. ■ Croom. s. A. crumb ; , a small .Mt. Crowd-string, s. A fiddle-string. Crowdy-kit. s. A small fiddle. Crow'ner. s. A coroner. To be Crowned, v. pass. To have aninquest held over a dead body by the coroner. Crowst. s. Crust. Crow'sty. adj. Crusty, snappish, surly. ■ I *. Food ; particularly bread and cheese. Cubby-hole. s. A snug, confined place. Cuckold s. The plant burdock. To Cull. V. n. To take hold round the neck with the amis. Cute. adj. [Acute] sharp j clever. Cutty, adj. Small ; . diminutive. Cutty. ) . •' •_ V s. A wren. Cutty-wren. J 18 GLOSSARY. D. Da\ s. Day. Dayze. Days. Dade. Dead. Dad'dick. s. Rotten wood. Dad'dicky. ado. Eotten, like daddick. Dame. s. This -word is originally Frencli, and means in that language, lady ; but in this dialect it means a mistress ; an old woman ; and never a lady ; nor is it applied to persons in the upper ranks of society, nor to the very lowest ; when we say dame Hurman, or dame Bennet, we mean the wife of some farmer ; a school-mistress is also sometimes called dame (dame-schools). Dang, interj. Generally followed by pronoun, as domg it ; dang em ; cd dang it : [an imprecation, a cor- ruption of God dang it (God hang it) or more likely corruption of damn]. Dap, V. n. To hop ; to rebound. Dap.s. A, hop; a turn . To know the daps of a person is, to know his disposition, his habits, his pe- culiarities. Dap'ster. s. A proficient. To Daver. v. n. To fade ; to fall down ; to droop. Dav'ison. s. A species of wild plum, superior to the buUin. Daw'zin. s. The passing over land with a bent hazel rod, held in a certain direction, to discover whether GLOSSARY. 19 veins of metal or springs are below, is called Bawzin, which is stiU practised in the mining districts of Somersetshire. There is an impres- sion among the vulgar, that certaitt persons only- have the gift of the divining rod, as it has been sometimes called ; by the French, Baguette Devinatoire. Ray, in his Gatalogus Planta/rvmv An^lia, i f- r*- -^ pole-cat. As cross as afitchet. Fit'ten. i . - . ^ ^ .1 -p.. , >s. A. temt ; a pretence.. ' Flap-jack. s. A fried cake made of batter, apples, &o. ; ,. a fritter. To Flick. V. a. To > pull out suddenly . with some pointed instrument. Flick-tooth-comb. s. A comb, with coarse. teeth for combing the hair. Flick, s. The membrane loaded \\rith fat, in the bellies ' ' of animals : a term used by butchers. Flook. s. An animal found in the liver of sheep, • similar in shape to a flook or flounder. Flush. ' adj. ' Fledged ;' able to fly : (applied to young ' birds.) Fooase. s. Force. ' See Vooase. To Fooase. V. a. To force. Foo'ter. s. [¥r.fouire] A scurvy fellow; a term of contempt. GLQSSAEY. 25 Foo'ty. adj. Insignificant ; paltry ; of no account. For'rel. s. the cover of a book. Porweend'. adj. Humoursome ; difiScult to please : (applied to children). Font, preterite, of to fight. French-nut. s. A walnut. To Frump, v'. a. To trump up. To Frunt. v. a. To aifront. To Fur. V. a. To throw. Fur'cum. s. The bottom : the whole. Fur'nis. s. A large vessel or boiler, used for brewing, and other purposes ; fixed with bricks and mortar, and surrounded with flues, for the circulation of ' heat, and exit of smoke. G. ; Gaee(t. s. a garden.; Gale. s. An old bull castrated, Gallibagger. s. [From gaily and hegga/r\ A bug-bear. Gallise. s. The gallows. Gallid. adj. Frightened. To Gaiay. v. a. To frighten. Gallant'ing. '\pa/rt. "Wandering about in gaiety and Galligant'ing. J enjoyment : applied chiefly to associar tions of the sexes. GarnHbril. s. A crooked piece of wood used by butchers to spread, and by which to suspend the carcase. 26 GLOSSARY. Gan'ny-cock. s. A turkey-cock. Ganny-cock's Snob. s. The long membranous ap- pendage at the beak, by tvhich the cock-turkey is distinguished. Gare. s. The iron work for wheels, waggons, &c., is called ire-gare ; accoutrements. Gate-shord. s. A gate-way ; a place for a gate. Gat'fer. s. An old man. GaVcum. s. A simpleton ; a gawkey. Gawl-cup. s. Gold cup. To Gee. v. n. [g soft] To agree ; to go on well together. To Gee. v. n. [g hard ; part, and past tense, gid.] To give. Gee often includes the pronoun, thus, " I'll gee " means I'll give you ; the gee, and ye for you, combining into gee. To G'auf. V. n. To go ofiF. To G'auver. v. n. To go over. To G'in. V. n. To go in. To G'on. V. n. To go on. To G'out. V. n. To go out. To G'under. v. n. To go under, To G'up. V. n. To go up. Gib'bol. s. [g soft] The sprout of am onion oi the second year. Gid. pret. v. Gave. Gifts, s. pi. The white spots frequently seen on the finger nails. GLOSSARY. 27 Gigletin. adj. Wanton; trifling; applied to the female sex. Gil'awfer. s. A term applied to all the kinds of flowers termed stocks ; and also to a few others : as a Whitsuntide gilaw/er, a species of Lychnidea. Gim'mace. s. A hinge. Gim'maces. s. pi. When a criminal is gibbeted, or hung in irons or chains, he is said to be hung in Gimmaces, most probably because the apparatus swings about as if on hinges. Ginnin. s. Beginning. Girnin. pa/rt. Grinning. Girt. adj. Great. Girdl. Contracted from great deal; as, gird'l o' work ; great deal of work. To Glare, v. a. To glaze earthenware. Glare, s. The glaze of earthenware. G'lore. adv. In plenty. This word, without the apostrophe, Glore, is to be found in Todd's Johnson, and there defined yZi^i The true meaning is, I doubt not, as above ; fat galore, '\&fat in plenty. Gold. s. The shrub called sweet-willow or wild myrtle; Myriea gale. This plant grows only in peat soils ; it is abun- dant in the boggy moors of Somersetshire ; it has a powerful and fragrant smell. Gold-cup. s. A species of crow-foot, or ranunculus, 28 GLOSSARY. growing plentifully in pastures ; rcmunculus pratensis. To Goo. v.n. \_Qwmn, going ; gwon, gone.] To go. Grookoo. s. Cookoo. Goo'ner. mterj. Goodnow ! Good'-Hussey. s. A thread-case. Goose- cap. s. A silly person. Graint'ed. adj. Fixed in the grain ; difficult to be re- moved ; dirty. Gram'fer. s. Grandfather. Gram'mer. s. Grandmother. To Gree. v. n. To agree. Gri^ble. s. A young apple-tree raised from seed. To Gripe, v. a. To cut into gripes. See Gripe. Gripe, s. [from Dutch, groep.'\ A small drain, or ditch, about a foot deep, and six or eight inches wide. In English Dictionaries spelled grvp. Griping-line. s. A line to direct the spade in cutting gripes. Groan'in. s. Parturition ; the time at which a woman is in labour. Ground, s. A field. Gro'zens. s.pl. The green minute round-leaved plants growing upon the surface of water in ditches ; duck's-meat ; the Lens palustris of Ray. Grufi'. s. A mine. Gruffer. Gruf'fier. s. A miner. To Gud'dle. v. n. To drink much and greedily. GLOSSARY. 29 Gud'dler. s. A greedy drinker; one who is fond of liquor. To Gulch. V. n. To swallow greedily. Gulch, s. A sudden swallowing. Gump'tion. s. Contrivance ; common sense. Gum'py. adj. Abounding in protuberances. Gurds. s. pi. Eructations. [By Fits and gurds.] Guss. s. A girth. To Guss. V. a. To girth. Gwain. part. Going. Gwon. part. Gone. H. Hack. s. The place whereon bricks newly made are arranged to dry. To Hain. v. a. To exclude cattle from a field in order that the grass may grow, so that it may be mowed. Hallantide. s. All Saints' day. Ham. s. A pasture generally rich, and also unshel- tered, applied only to level land. Hame. sing. ) s. Two moveable pieces of wood or Hames. pi. /iron fastened upon the collar, with suitable appendages for attaching a horse to the shafts. Called sovaetimes a pair of ha/mes. Han'dy. adv. Near, adjoining. 30 jGLOSSAKY. Hang-gallise. adj. Deserving the gallows, felonious, vile ; as, a hamg-gallise Jellow. Hange. s. The heart, liver, lungs, (fee, of a pig, calf, or sheep. Hanglsicher. s. Handkerchief. Hangles. s.pl. A pair ofhangles is the iron crook, &c., composed of teeth, and hung over the fire, to be moved' up and down at pleasure for the purpose of cookery, &c. • To Happer. v.n. To crackle ; to make repeated smart noises. To Haps. V. a. To Hasp. Haps. s. A hasp. Hard. adj. Full grown. Hwrd people, adults. Harm. s. Any contagious or epidemic disease not distinguished by a specific name. Har'ras. s. Harvest. Hart, s A haft ; a handle. Applied to such instruments as knives, awls, etc. Hathe. s. To he in a hathe, is to be set thick and close like the pustules of the small-pox or other erup- tive disease ; to be matted closely together. To Have. v. n. To behave. Haw. See ho. Hay-maidens, s. pi. Ground ivy. Hay'ty-tay'ty. \ interj. What's here ! Highty-tity. / s. [height and tiie, weight]. GLOSSARY. 31 A board or pole, balanced in the middle on some prop, so that two persons, one sitting at each end, may move up and down in turn by striking the ground with the feet. Sometimes called Tayty [See-saw]. In Hay'digees. [g soft] adv. To be in high spirits; to be frolicsome. Heat s. Pronounced He-at, dissyllable, heat. Hea'ram-skearam. adj. Wild; romantic. To Heel. v. a. To hide ; to cover. Chaucer, " hele." Hence, no doubt, the origin of to lieal, to cure, as applied to wounds ; to cover over. Heeler, s. One who hides or covers. Hence the very common expression, The healer is as bad as the stealer ; that is, the receiver is as bad as the thief. Heft. s. Weight. To Hell. V. a. To pour. Hellier. s. A person who lays on the tiles of a roof; a tiler. A Devonshire word. Helm. s. Wheat straw prepared for thatching. To Hen. v. a. To throw. To Hent. v. n. To wither ; to become slightly dry. Herd s. A keeper of cattle. Hereawa. 1 7 xr x. j. ^^ \ adv. Hereabout. Hereaway, j Herence. adv. From this place ; hence. Hereright. adv. Directly ; in this place. Het. pron. It. Het dnt, it wUl not. 32 GLOSSARY. To Het. V. a. ' To hit, to strike ; ' part. Tiet and hut. To Hick. v.n. ' To hop on one leg. Hick. s. A. hop on one leg. , Hick-step cmdjwmp. ' Hop-step and jump. A well known exercise. To Hike of. v. n. To go away ; to go off. Used gene- rally in a bad sense. Hine. adQ. (Hiad) Posterior ; relating to the back part. Used only in composition, as, ' a hine quarter. To Hire teU. v. n. To hear tell ; to learn by report ; to be told. Hip'pety-hoppety. ' adv. In a limping and hobbling manner. Hirches. s. riches. Hir'd. V. [i long] heard. To Hirn. v. n. [hirnd, pret. and part.] To run. To Hitch. V. n. To become entangled or hooked to- gether ; to hitch up, to hang up or be suspended. . See the next word. To Hitch up. V. a. To suspend or attach slightly' or temporarily. The following will exemplify the active mean- ing of this verb : Sir Strut, for so the witUng throng Oft called him when at school, And hitch'd him up in many a song ' To sport and ridicule. GLOSSARY. 33 Hiz'en. Used for his when not followed by a substan- tive, as, wliose house is that 1 Uisfen. [His own]. Hi'zy Pi'zy. A corruption of Nisi Prius. a well known law assize. To Ho for, 1 V. a- To provide for ; to take care of ', To Haw vor, J to desire ; to wish for. Hob'blers. s. pi, Men employed in towing vessels by a rope on the land. Hod. s. A sheath or covering ; perhaps from hood. Hog. «. A sheep one year old. To Hoke. V. a. To wound with horns ; to gore. Hod'medod. adj. Short ; squat. Hollar, adj. Hollow. To Hollar, v. a. To halloo. Hollar. «. A halloo, Hollardy. s. A holiday. Hollardy-day. s. Holy-rood day ; the third of May. HoUabeloo'. s. A noise ; confusion ; riot. Hol'men. adj. Made of holm. Holt, intetj. Hold; stop. Bolt-a-blow, give over fighting Ho'mescreech. s. A bird which buUds chiefly ia apple- trees ; I believe it is the Turdus viscivorus, or missel. Hon. s. hand, oney-suc , ( ^^ ^^^ wodbine. .,} Honey-suckle, Honey-suckle, s. Red Clover. 34: GLOSSARY. Hoo'say. See Whosay. Hoop. s. A bullfinch. Hor'nen. adj. Made of born. Homen-book. s. Hornbook. Horse-stinger, s The dragon-fly. Hoss. s. horse. Hoss-plas s. pi. Horse-plays ; rough sports. Houzen. s. pi. Houses. Howsomiver. adv. However ; howsoever. Huck'muck. s. A strainer placed before the faucet in the mashing-tub. Hud. s. A hull, or husk. Huf. s A hoof Huf-cap s. A plant, or rather weed, found in fields, and with difficulty eradicated. I regret that I cannot identify this plant with any known botanical name. Graced with huff-cap terms and thundering threats, That his poor hearers' hair quite upright sets. Bp. Hall, Boole I, Sat. iii. Some editor of Hall has endeavoured to explain the term huff-cap by blustering, swaggering, I think it simply means difficult Hug. s. The itch. See Shab (applied to brutes. ) Hug-water, s. Water to cure the hug. See Shab. To Hul'der. v. a. To hide ; conceal. Hul'ly. «. A peculiarly shaped long wicker trap used for catching eels. GLOSSAKT. 35 To Hulve. V. a. To turn over ; to turn upside down. Hum'drum. s. A small low three-wheeled cart, drawn usually by one horse : used occasionally in agri- culture. From the peculiarity of its construction, it makes a kind of humming noise when it is drawn alongj hence, the origin of the adjective hwmdrwm. Hunt-the-slipper, s. A well-known play. I. ad. Yes ; /, /, yes, yes ; most probably a corrupt pronunciation of ay. Inin. s. Onion. Ire. s. Iron. Ire-gare. «. See Gaee. Ise. pron. I. See TJtcht, [West of the PaiTet]. 1st. [i long], s. East. Istard. [i long], adv. Eastward. It. adv. Yet, [pronouced both it and eei]. see N'eet. Jack-in-the-Lanthorn ) _, , n „ , J f s. ihe meteor usually called a T . j^, .__. , I Will with the Wisp. Joan-m-the-Wad. \ ^ Ignis Fatuus. — Arising from ignition of phosphorus from rotten leaves and decayed vegetable matters. Jaunders. s. The jaundice. I adj. Such.. 36 GLOSSABT. To Jee. V. n. To go on well together; see To Gee. Jif fey. s. A short time : an instant. Jist. adv. Just. Jitch. Jitchy. Jod. s. The letter J. Jorum, s. A large jug, bowl, &c., full of something to be eaten or drank. To Jot. V. a. To disturb in writing ; to strike the elbow. K. The sound K is often displaced by substituting qu, as for coat, corn, corner, cost ; quoat or (guHt) quoin, quiner, quost. Keck'er. s. The windpipe ; the trachea. Keep. s. A basket, applied only to large baskets. To Keeve. v. a. To put the wort in a keeve for some ' time to ferment. Keeve. s. A large tub or vessel used in brewing. A mashing-tub is sometimes called a heeve. Keffel. s. A bad and worn out hoi'se. To Kern. v. n. To turn from blossom to fruit : the process of turning from blossom to fruit is called herning. Kex. 1 s. The dry stalks of some plants, such as Kexy. / Cows-parsley and Hemlock, are called Kexies. As dry as a kexy is a common simile. GLOSSARY. 37 KUl. s, A Kiln. Eal'ter. s. Money. KingT)o-w, or rather, a-kingbow. adv. Kimbo. Chaucer has this word kenebow, -which is, perhaps, the true one — a kenebow, implying a bow with a keen or sharp angle. "He set his arms in kenebow." Chaucer, Second Merchcmt's Tale. Or place the arms a-Xinghow, may be to place them in a consequential manner of commanding, like a king. Kir'cher. s. The midriff ; the diaphragm. Kirsmas. s. Christmas. Kirsen. v. a. To Christen. [These two words are instances of the change of place of certain letters, particularly r.] Eat. s. A tribe ; a collection ; a gang. T7--J.J.1 ' 1 [ s. A smock frock. K.ittle-smock. ( KJnack-kneed. adj. In-kneed ; having the knees so grown that they strike [Araoc^] against each other. Knot'tlins. s. pi The intestines of a pig or calf pre- pared for food by being tied in knots and after- wards boiled. L. Lade-pail. s. A small pail, with a long handle, used for the purpose of filling other vessels. 38 GLOSS ABY. Ladeshrides. s. pi The sides of the waggon which project over the wheels. See Shride. Ladies-smock, s. A species of bindweed ; Convolvuh^ sepivan. See Witht-wine. Lady Buddick. s. A rich and early ripe apple. Lady-cow. s. A lady-bird ; the insect Coccinella Sep- tem/pumctata. Lady's-hole. s. A game at cards. Lai'ter. s. The thing laid ; the whole quantity of eggs which a hen lays successively. She has laid out her Icdter. Lamager. adj. Lame ; crippled ; laid up. Larks-leers, s. pi. Ai-able land not in use ; such is much frequented by larks ; any land which is poor and bare of grass. Lart. I s. The floor : never applied to a stone floor, Lawt. J but only to wooden floors ; and those up stairs. Las-charg'eable ! mterj. Be quiet ! The last chargeable : that is, he who last strikes or speaks in contention is most blamable, Lat. s. A lath. Latitat, s. A noise ; a scolding. Lat'tin. s. Iron plates covered with tin. Lattin. adj. Made of lattin ; as a lattin saucepan, a lattin teakettle, &c. Laugh-and-Ue-down. s. A common game at cards. To Lave. v. a. To throw water from one place to another. GLOSSARY. 39 To Le'at. v. n. To leak. LeCat. s. A leak ; a place where water is occasionally let out. Leath'er. v. a. To beat, leathern-iuouse. s. A bat. Lser. adj. Empty. Leer. s. The flank, leers, s. pi. Leas ; rarely used : but I think it always means stubble land, or land similar to stubble land. Lent. s. Loan ; the use of any thing borrowed. Lew. adj. Sheltered ; defended from storms, or wind Lew, } J li, ( *• Shelter ; defence from storm or wind. Lib'et. s. A piece ; a tatter. Lid'den. s. A story ; a song. Lie-lip s. A square wooden vessel having holes in its bottom, to contain wood-ashes for making lie. Lights. «. pi. The lungs. Lighting-stock, s. A horse-block ; steps of wood or stone, made to ascend and descend from a horse. -r • , >s. pi. The shafts of a waggon, cart, &c. Linch. s. A ledge ; a rectangular projection ; whence the term linchrpin (a pin with a linch), which Johnson has, but not lirhch. The derivations of this word, linchrpin by our etymologists, it will be seen, are now inadmissable. 40 GLOSSARY. ' To Line. v. n. To lean ; to incline towards or againfet sometting. Lin'ny. g. An open shed, attached to barns, outhouses, &C. ! Lip. I s. A generic term for several containing Lip'pen. /vessels, as bee-lippen, lie-lip, seed-lip, &c, ■which see. Lip'ary. ac^'. Wet, rainy. Applied to the seasons t a lipary time. To Lir'rop. v. a. To beat. This is said to be a corruption of the sea term, lee-rope. Lis'som. adj. Lithe ; pliant. Contracted from light- some, or lithe-some. List. ] T - ,,. >s. The strip or border on woollen cloth. Lis'tin. adj. Made of list. To Lob. V. n. To hang down ; to droop. Lock. s. A small quantity ; as a look of hay, a lock of straw. Lock-a-Daisy. interj. of surprise or of pleasure. Lockyzee. interj. Look, behold ! Look you, see ! To Long. V. n. To belong. Long'ful. ckdj. Long in regard to time. Lose-Leather. To be galled by riding. Lowance. s. Allowance : portion. Lug. s. A heavy pole ; a pole ; a long rod. I incline to think this is the original of low. GLOSSAR Y. 41 Lug-lain. s. Full measure ; the measure by the lug or pole. Lump'er. v. n. To lumber ; to move heavily ; to stumble. M. Mace. s. pi. Acorns. Madam, s. Applied to the most respectable classes of society: as, Madam Greenwood, Madam Saunders, (fee. Mallard, s. A male duck. To Manche. | v. a. To chew. Probably from ntanger^ To Munche. J French. Man'der. s. A corruption of the word, manner, used only in the sense of sort or kind ; as, dll mander o' things ; all sorts of things. To Mang. v. a. To mix. Mang-hangle. adj. Mixed in a wild and confused manner. To maw. v. a. To mow. Maw'kin. s. A cloth, usually wetted and attached to a pole, to sweep clean a baker's oven. See Slo- MAKING. May. s. The blossom of the white thorn. May-be. ) MS he I ^^^' I'srhaps ; it may be. May-fool. s. Same as April fool. 42 GLOSSARY May-game. ] . » ,. , . Tij^A > 8. A iroJic ; a whim. Ma-game. J ' To Meech. v. n. To play truant ; to absent from schc without leave. Meech'er. s. A truant. To Mell. V. a. To meddle : to touch. FU neither mi nor mahe : that is, I will have nothing to do wi it. / ont mell ot, I will not touch it. " Of eche mattir thei wollin mell." Chaucer's Plowman's Tale. Mesh. s. Moss ; a species of lichen which grows pie: tifully on apple trees. _, T,^ ■ [ V. a. To serve cattle with hay. To Messy. ) •' Messia. s. The act of serving cattle with hay. Mid. V. aux. Might, may. To Miff. V. a. To give a slight offence ; to displease. Miff. s. A slight offence ; displeasure. Mig. s. As sweet as mig is a common simile ; I suspe that mig means mead, the liquor made from hone Milt. s. The spleen. Milemas. Michaelmas. Min. A low word, implying contempt, addressed the person to whom we speak, instead of Sir. I do it, min. Mine. v. Mind; remember. Mix'en s. A dunghill. Miz'maze. s. Confusion. GLOSSART. 43 Mom'macks. s. pi. Pieces ; fragments. Mom'met. 1 s. A scarecrow ■ something dressed np Mom'mick. / in clothes to personate a human being. Moor-coot. s. A moor hen. To Moot. V. a. To root up. Moot. s. A stump, or root of a tree. To More. v. n. To root ; to become fixed by. rooting. More. s. A root. Mought. V. aux. Might. Mouse-snap. s. A mouse trap. Mug'gets. s. pi. The intestines of a calf or sheep. Derived, most probably, from maw and guts. To Mult. V. To melt. Mus' goo. must go. 'Mus'd. Amused. N. Many words beginniag with a vowel, following the ar- ticle am, take the n from an ; as, an inch, pro- nounced a niTich. Na'atal. adj. natural. Na'atally. adv. naturally. Naise. s. noise. Nan. interjec. Used in reply, in conversation or ad- dress, the same as Sir, when you do not understand. N4nt. s. Aunt. Nap. s. A small rising ; a hillock. 44 GLOSSAEY. Nation, a&o. Very, extremely : as nation good ; waiioj} bad. Nawl. a. Au awl. Nawl. s. The navel. Nawl-cut. s. A piece cut out at the navel : a term used by butchers. N'eet.| -, ^ , ^ N'it. I Not yet. Nestle Tripe, s. The weakest and poorest bird in the nest ; applied, also, to the last-born, and usually the -weakest child of a family ; any young, weak, and puny chUd, or bird New-qut-and-jerkin. s. A game at cards in a more refined dialect new-coat and jerkin. Nif. conj. If. Nill. s. A needle. Nist. ) „• -L Nuostr*"'^- ^^g^'"^^'^' Niver-tha-near. adv. (Never-the-near), To no pur- pose, uselessly. Nona'tion. ac^. Difl5.cult to be understood ; not intel- ligent ; incoherent, wild. Nor'ad. ado. Northward. Nora'tion. «. Rumour ; clamour. Nor'ra un. Nor'ry un. Norn. pron. Neither. Norn o'm, neither of them. Nor'thering. ac^. Wild, incoherent, foolish. ■ I Never a one. •J GLOSSARY. 45 Nort. s. Notiing. West of the Parret. Not-steep. «. A sheep without horns. Not. s. The place where flowers are planted is usually called the flower not, or rather, perhaps, knot ; a flower bed. Not'tamy. s. Corrupted from anatomy : it means very often the state of body, mere shin and hone. NottUns. s. pi. See Knottlins. Num'met. s. A short meal between breakfast and din- ner ; nunchion, luncheon. Nuncle. s. An uncle. To Nuncle. v. a. To cheat. Nuth'er. adv. Neither. 0. 0'. prep, for of. Obstrop'ilous. adj. Obstinate, resisting [obstreperous.] Odments. s. pi. Odd things, offals. Office, s. The eaves of a house. Old-qut-and-jerkin. s. A game at cards ; in a more re- fined dialect, old-coat-amd-jerkin ; called also fiae cards. To Onlight. v. n. To alight ; to get off a horse. O'ant (for w'on't). WUl not. This expression is used in almost all the persons, as / ont, he tint, we ont, they, or ih& ont ; I will not, he will not, etc. 46 GLOSSARY. Ont. ■) Of it. I a done ont ; I a done o't : I have done Ont. ■) Ofit. O't. J of it. Ool. V. OMX. Will. Ope. s. An opening — the distance between bodies ar- ranged in order. Or'chit. s. An orchard. Ornd. pret. Ordained, fated. Om. pron. Either. Om dm, either of them. Or'ra one. ) , ^ , (■ Any one ; ever a one. Or ry one. J •' ' Ort. s. Any thing. [West of the Parret.] Ort. s. Art. Oten. adv. Often. Ourn. pron. Ours. To Overget. v. a. To overtake. To Overlook, v. a. To bewitch. Overlookt. part. Bewitched. • 1 J. r adv. Opposite ; fronting. Auver-ngnt. ) rr ^ a Overs, s. pi. The perpendicular edge, usually covered with grass, on the sides of salt-water rivers is called overs. PACK-an-Penny-Day. s. The last day of a fair when bargains are usually sold. [Pack, cmd sell for pennies.] Parfit. adj. Perfect. GLOSSAKT. 47 Parfitly. adv. Perfectly. To Par'get. v.a. To plaster the inside of a chimney with mortar of cowdung and lime. Par'rick. s. A paddock. To Payze. v. a. To force, or raise up, with a lever. To Peach, v. a. To inform against ; to impeach. Peel. 8. A pUlow, or bolster. To Peer. v. n. To appear. Pen'nin. s. The enclosed place where oxen and other animals are fed and watered ; any temporary place erected to contain cattle. Pick. s. A pitch-fork : a two pronged fork for making hay. Pigs-Hales, s. pi. Hawsj the seed of the white thorn. Pigs-looze. s. A pigsty. Pilch. ) Pilcher ( *• -^ baby's woollen clout. PUl-coal. V. A kind of peat, dug most commonly out of rivers : peat obtained at a great depth, beneath a stratum of clay. Piller. s. a pillow. Pilm. s. Dust ; or rather fine dust, which readily floats in air. Pink. s. A chaffinch. Pip. s. A seed; applied to those seeds which have the shape of apple, cucumber seed, &c. ; never to round, or minute seeds. 48 GLOSSARY. To Pitch. V. a. To lay uiihe-wn and unshaped stones together, so as to make a road or way. To Fitch, in the West of England, is not syno- nymous with to fame. To pave, means to lay flat, square, and hewn stones or bricks down, for a floor or other pavement or footway. A paved way is always smooth and even; a pitched way always rough and irregular. Hence the distinguishing terms of Pitching and Paving. Pit'is. ac0. Piteous ; exciting compassion. Pifhole. «. The grave. To PLx. ) V. a. To pick up apples after the main, crop To Pixy. ) is taken in ; to glean, applied to an orchard only. Pix'y. «• A sort of fairy ; an imaginary being. Pix'y-led. part. Led astray by pixies. Pl^d. V. Played. Pla'zen. s. pi. Places. To Plim. V. n. To swell ; to increase in bulk. Plough, a. The cattle or horses used for ploughing; also a waggon and horses or oxen. Pock'fredden. adj. Marked in the face with small pox. To Pog. V. n. and v. a. To thrust with the fist ; to push. Pog. s. A thrust with the fist ; a push ; an obtuse blow. Pollyantice. s. Polyanthus. To Pom'ster. v. n. To tamper with, particularly in cu- ring diseases ; to quack. GLOSSARY. 49 Pont'ed. 'pmt. Bruised with indentation. Any person whose skin or body is puffed up by disease, and subject to occasional pitting by pres- sure, is said to be ponied ; but the primary mean- ing is applied to fruit, as, a panted apple ; in both meanings incipient decay is implied. Pook. s. The belly ; the stomach ; a veil. Popple, s. A pebble : that is, a stone worn smooth, and more or less round, by the action of the waves of the sea. Pottle-bellied, adj. Potbellied. To Pooat. I V. a. To push through any confined open- To Pete. J ing, or hole. Pooat-hole. ] s. A small hole through which anything Pote-hole. J is pushed with a stick ; a confined place. Pooaty. adj. Confined, close, crammed. Port'mantle. s. A portmanteau. Poti'cary. s. An apothecary. To Poun. V. To pound [to put into the pound, to " lock up"]. A Power of rain. A great deal of rain. Pruv'd. V. Proved. To pray. v. a. To drive all the cattle into one herd in a moor ; to pray the moor, to search for lost cattle. Prankin. s. Pranks. Pud. s. The hand; the fist. J^,, ' t s. A small shallow-place, containing water. Pulker. J 50 GLOSSARY. Pull-reed. s. [Pool reed.] A long reed growing in ditches and pools, used for ceiling instead of laths. Pultry. . Poultry. Pum'ple. adj. Applied only, as far as I know, in the compound word pumple-voot, a club-foot. Put. s. A two-wheeled cart used in husbandry, and so constructed as to be turned up at the axle to dis- charge the load. Pux'ie. s. A place on which you cannot tread without danger of sinking into it ; applied most commonly to places in roads or fields where springs break out. Pwint. s. Point. Pwine-end. ) The sharp-pointed end of a house, -where Pwinin-end. J the wall rises perpendicularly fro.u the foundation. Py'e s. A wooden guide, or rail to hold by, in pass- ing over a narrow wooden bridge. Q. Qu is in many words used instead of K. Quake, adj. Queer ; odd. Quar'rel. s. [Quarre, French.] A square of window glass. To Quar. v. a. To raise stones from a quarry. Quar-man. s. A man who woi'ks in a quarry [^war]. Quine. s. Coin, money. A corner. To Quine. v. a. To coin. ■ Quoin. Coin. GLOSSARY. 5 1 Quoit. Coit. Qut (Quut). s. Coat. K R in many -words is wholly omitted, as, Arth. Godse, Guih, He'dth, Pason, Voodth, Wuss, &c., for Earth, Coarse, Girth, Hearth, Parson, Fbrth, Worse. To Rake up. v. a. To cover ; to bury. To rake the vier. To cover up the fire with ashes, that it may remain burning all night. Rames. s. pi. The dead stalks of potatoes, cucumbers, and such plants ; a skeleton. Rams-claws, s. pi. The plant called gold cups; ranun- culus pratensis. Ram'shackle. adj. Loose ; disjointed. Ram'pin. pa/rt. Distracted, obstreperous : rampin mad, outrageously mad. -p ,J (S. A merry-making ; riotous living. Range, s. A sieve. To Rangle. v. n. To twine, or move in an irregular or sinuous manner. Rangling plants are plants which entwine round other plants, as the wood- bine, hops, etc. Ran'gle. s. A sinuous winding. Ras'ty. adj. Rancid : gross ; obscene. Rathe-ripe. adj. Ripening early. \Rath. Englislo Dictionary. " The rathe-ripe wits prevent their own perfection.' Bp. Hall. 52 GLOSSARY. Eaiiglit. pa/rt. Reached. Eawd. fart. Rode. To Rawn. v. a. To devour greedily. Raw'ny. adj. Having little flesh : a thin person, whose bones are conspicuous, is said to be rawny. To Ray. v. a. To dress. To Read. v. a. To strip the fat from the intestines ; to read the inward. Read'ship. s. Confidence, trust, truth. To Ream. v. a. To widen; to open. Reamer, s. An instrument used to make a hole larger. Refba,lling. s. The catching of eels with earthworms attached to a ball of lead, hung by a string from a pole. Reed. s. Wheat straw prepared for thatching. -p, . " is. A water-course ; an open drain. To Reeve, v. a. To rivel ; to draw into wrinkles. Remlet. s. A remnant. ReVel. s. A wake. To Rig. V. n. To climb about ; to get up and down a thing in wantonness or sport. Hence the substantive rig, as used in John, Gilpin, by Cowpek. " He little dreamt of runniag such a rig." To Rig. V. a. To dress. Hence, I suspect, the origin of the rigging of a vessel. ■ GLOSSARY. 53 Righting-lawn. Adjusting the ridges after the wheat is sown. Rip. s. A vulgar, old, unchaste woman. Hence, most probably, the origin of Dendrip. Robin- Riddick. «. A redbreast. [Also Rabbin Hird-' dick ; the r and i transposed.] Rode. s. To go to rode, means, late at night or early in the morning, to go out to shoot wild fowl which pass over head on the wing. To Rose. V n. To drop out from the pod, or other seed vessel, when the seeds are over-ripe. To Rough. V. a. To roughen ; to make rough. Round-dock. s. The common vaalloyf; malvasylvestris. Called round-dock fi-om the roundness of its leaves. Chaucer has the following expression which has a good deal puzzled the glossarists : " But canst thou playin raket to and fro, " Nettle in, Doche out, now this, now that, Pandare T Troilus and Cressida, Book IV. The round-dock leaves are used at this day as a supposed remedy or charm for the sting of a nettle, by being rubbed on the stung part, with the following words : — In dock, out nettle, Nettle have a sting'd me. That is, Go in dock, go out nettle. Now, to play Nettle in Doche out, is to make use of such expe- dients as shall drive away or remove some previous evil, similar to that of driving out the venom of the nettle by the juice or charm of the dock. 54 GLOSSARY. C s. A quaint saying ; a low proverb. Eoz'im. j ^ Bogjjj Eud'derisli. adj. Hasty, rude without care. E,uf. s. A roof. Rum. s. Eoom; space. Rum'pus. s. A great noise. This word ought to be in our English Dic- tionaries. Rungs, s. pi. The round steps of a ladder. S. The sound of S is very often converted into the ■ soxmd of Z. Thus many of the following words, Samd-tot, Sar, Seed-lip, Silker, Sim, in sorrow, Z4 oolt thou sife for me, or one wild wish awake 1 Good bwye ye dun Elves ! who, on whings made o' leather, StUl roun my poorch whiver an' whiver at night ; Aw mS, naw hord-horted, unveeUn disturber. Destroy your snug nests, an your pld by moonlight. Good bwye ta thee Bower ! — ta thy moss an thy ivy — To tha flowers that aroun thee all blossomin graw ; When I'm gwon, oolt thou grieve ? — bit 'tis foolish to ax it ; What is ther that's shower in this wordle belaw ? Good bwye ta thee Cot ! whaur my mother za thought- vul. As zumtimes she war droo er care vor us Ml, Er lessins wi' kindness, wi' tenderness gid us ; An ax'd, war she dead, what ood us bevMl. GOOD BWYB TA THEE COT. 83 Good bwye ta thee Cot ! whaur tha nightingale's music, In tha midnight o' M&-time, rawze loud on the ear ; Whaur tha colley awAk'd, wi' tha zun, an a zingin A went, wi' tha dirsh, in a voice vuU and clear. Good bwye ta thee Cot ! I must goo ta tha city. Whaur, I'm tawld, that the smawk makes it dork at noon dk ; Bit nif it is true, I'm afeard that I always And iver shoU thenk on tha cot thatch'd wi' strL Good bwye ta thee Cot ! there is One that rains awver, An witches tha wordle, wi' wisdom divine ; Than why shood I mang, wi' tha many, my ma-bes ; Bin there's readship in. Him, an to him I resign. Good bwye ta thee Cot ! shood I niver behauld thee Again ; stUl I thank thee vor i,ll that is past ! Thy friendly ruf shelter' d — while mother witch'd awver. An haw'd vor my comfort vrom vust unto last. Good bwye ta thee Cot ; vor the time mk be longful Befom I on thy drashaU again zet my eye ; Thy tutties ool blossom, an daver an blossom Again and again — zaw good bwye, an good bwye ! 84 POEMS. FANNY FEAE. The melancholy incident related in the following story, actually occurred a few years ago at Shapwick. Good Gennel-vawk ! an if you please To lissen to my storry, A m4-be 'tis a jitch. a one, Ool make ye zummet zorry. 'Tis not a hoozay tale of grief, A put wi' ort together, That where yoti cry, or ■where you laugh. Da matter not a veather ; Bit 'tis a tale vor sartin true, Wi' readship be it spawken ; I knaw it dll, begummers ! well, By tale, eese, an by tawken. The maid's right name war Fanny Fear, A tidy body lookin ; An she cood brew, and she cood bake, An dumplins bwile, and skimmer cake ; An dll the like o' cookin. Upon a Zunday S,temoon, Beforne the door a stanin. To zee er chubby cheaks za bird. An whitist lilies roun 'em spird, A damas rawze her han in, FANNr PEAHN. 85 Ood do your tort good ; an er eyes, Dork, vull, an bright, an sporklin ; Tha country lads could not goo by. Bit look thS, must — sbe iver shy, Ood blish — tha timid lorklin ! Her dame war to her desperd kind ; She knaw'd er well dezarvin : She gid her good advice an claws. At which she niver toss'd her naws, As zum ool, thawf pon starvin. She oten yarly upp'd to goo A mUkin o' tha dairy ; The meads ring'd loudly wi' er zong ; Aw how she birshed the grass along, As lissom as a vairy ! She war as happy as a prince ; Naw princess moor o' pleasure When well-at-eased cood iver veel ; She ly'd her head upon her peel, An Tound athiu a treasure. There war a dessent comly youth. Who took'd to her a likin ; An when a don'd in zunday claws, You'd thenk en zummet I suppaws, A look'd so desperd strikin. 86 POEMS. His vace war like a zummer di, When all the birds be zingin ; Smiles an good nature dimplin stood. An moor besides, an 411 za good, Much pleasant promise bringin. Now Jan war sawber, and afeard Nif he in haste shood morry. That he mid long repent thereof; An zo a thwart 'twar best not, thawf To sta mid make en zorry. Jan oten pass'd the happy door. There Fanny stood a scrubbin ; An Fanny hired hiz pleasant voice. An thawt — "An if she had er choice !" An veel'd athin a drubbin. Bit Jan did'n hulder long iz thawts ; Yor thorough iv'ry cranny, Him'd of iz hort tha warm hird tide ; An a cood na moor iz veelins bide. Bit tell 'em must to Fanny. To Fanny, than, one Whitsun eve, A tawld er how a lov'd er ; Naw dove, a zed to er cood be Moor faith vul than to her ood he ; His hort had long appruv'd er. FANNY PEiR. 87 Wi' timouroiis blishin, Fanny zed, "A maid mist not believe ye; " Vor men ool tell ther lovin tale, " And awver seely maids prevail — " Bit I dwont like ta grieve ye : " Vor nif za be you now za true— " That you've for I a fancy : " (Aw Jan ! I dwont veel desperd well, " An what's tha cS,ze, I cannot tell), " You'll zi na moor to Nancy." Twar zaw begin'd their zweetortin ; Booath still liv'd in their places : Zometimes thS, met bezides tha stile ; Wi' pleasant look an tender smile Gaz'd in each wither's faces. In spreng-time oten on tha nap Ood Jan and Fanny linger ; An when war vooas'd to zk " good bwye," Ood meet again, wi' draps in eye, WhUe haup ood pwint er vinger. Zo pass'd tha das — tha moons awS,, An haup stiU whiver'd nigh ; Nif Fanny's dreams high pleasures viU, Of her Jan's thawts the Udden still, An oten too the zigh. POEMS. Bit still Jan had not got wherewi' To venter eet to morry ; Alas-a-dS, ! when poor vawk love, How much restraint how many pruv; How zick zum an how zorry. Aw you who live in houzen grate, An wherewi' much possessin, You knaw not, m4-be, care not you, What pangs jitch tender horts pursue. How grate nor how distressin. Jan sar'd a varmer vour long years, An now iz haups da brighten : A gennelman of high degree Choos'd en iz hunsman vor to be ; His Fanny's hort da lighten ! " Now, Fan," zed he, " nif I da live, " Nex zummer thee bist miae ; " Sir John col gee me wauges good, " Am^be too zum vier ood ! " His Fan's dork eyes did shine. " To haw vor thee, my Fan," a cried, " I iver shell delight ; " Thawf I be poor, 'tool be my pride " To ha my Fan vor a buxom bride — " My lidden di an night." FAmnr feabon. 89 A took er gently in iz orms An kiss'd er za zweetly too ; His Fan, vor jay, not a word coed speak, Bit a big roun tear rawl'd down er cheak, It zimm'd as thawf er hort cod break — She cood hordly thenk it true. To zee our hunsman goo abroad, His houns behind en voUy ; His tosseVd cap — his whip's smort smack, His hoss a prancin wi' tha crack, His whissle, horn, an holler, back ! Ood cure 411 malancholy. It happ'd on a dork an wintry night, Tha stormy wine a blawin ; Tha houns made a naise an a dismal yell ; Jitch as zum rawk z4 da death vaurtell) The cattle loud war lawin. Tha hunsman wakid an down a went ; A thawt ta keep 'em quiet ; A niver stopped izzel ta dress, Bit a went in iz shirt vor readiness A voun a dirdful riot. Bit ill thic night a did not come back ; All night tha dogs did raur ; In tha mornin tha look'd on tha kannel stwons An zeed 'em cover'd wi' gaur an bVons, The vlesh all vrom 'era a taur. 90 POEMS. His head war left — the head o' Jan Who lov'd hiz Fanny za well ; An a bizzy gossip, as gossips be WhoVe work o' ther awn bit vrom it vise, To Fanny went ta tell. She hirn'd, she vleed ta meet tha man Who corr'd er dear Jan's head : An when she zeed en ill blood an ganr, She drapp'd down speechless jist avaur, As thauf she had bin dead. Poor Fanny com'd ta erzel again, Bit her senses left her vor iver ! An nil she zed, ba da or night — Vor sleep it left her eye-Eds quite — War, " why did he goo in the cawld ta shiver ?- " Mver, O Jan ! shoU I zee the, niver ! "* JEKRRY NUTTY; OE THE MAN OF MOEK. AwA wi' nil yer tales o' grief, An dismal stony writin ; * See a letter by Edward Band, on this subject, in the prose pieces. JEERT NUTTT. 91 A md-be zumthin I m& zing Ool be as much deligbtin. Zumtime agoo, bevaur tha moors War tin'd in, lived at Mork One Jerry Nutty — spry a war; A upp'd avaur the lork. Iz vather in a little cot Liv'd, auver-right tha moor, An thaw a kipt a vlock o' geese, A war a thoughted poor. A niver teach' d tha oris-cross-lain Ta any of his bways, An Jerry, mangst the rest o'm, did Not much appruv his ways. Vor Jerry zumtimes went ta church Ta hire tha PAson preach, An thawt what pity that ta read Izzel a cood'n teach. Vor than, a zunday aternoon, Tha Bible, or good book Would be companion vit vor'm ^11 Who choos'd therein ta look. Bit Jerry than tha naise o' geese Bit little moor could hire ; 92 POEMS. An ddly goose-aggs ta pick Tip Droo-out tha moor did tire. A 6ten look'd upon tha hills An stickle mountains roun, An wished izzel upon their taps : What zights a ood be b6un ! Bit what did mooast iz fancy strick War Glassenberry Torr : A Slways zeed it when tha zun Gleam'd wi' tha momin stor. O' Well's grate church a 6ten hired, Iz fancy war awake ; An zaw a thawfthat zoon a ood A journey ta it make. An Glassenberry's Torr, an Thorn The hawly blowth of which A hired from one and tother too ; Tha like war never jitch ! Bit moor o' this I need not zS,, Vor off went Jerry Nutty, In hiz right hon a wdkin stick. An in hiz qut a tutty. Now, look-y-zee ! in whimly dress Trudg'd chearful Jerry on ; JEEHT NTJTTT. 93 Bit on tha moor not vur a went — A made a zudden ston. Which wi ta goo a cood not thenk, Vor there war many a w4 ; A put upright iz walking stick ; A v^U'd ta tha zon o' di. Ta tha suthard than iz wS, a took Athert tha turfy moors, An zoon o' blissom Cuzziton,* A pass'd tha cottage doors. Tha maidens o' tha cottages, Not us'd strange vawk to zee, Com'd vooath and stood avaur tha door ; Jer wonder'd what cood be. Zum smU'd, zum whecker'd, zum o'm blish'd. " Od dang it ! " Jerry zed, " What do tha think that I be like?" An nodded to 'm iz head. " Which is tha w^ to Glassenberry ? " I've hired tha hawly thorn " War zet there by zum hawly hons " Zoon dter Christ war born ; * Coasingtou. 94 POEMS. " An I've a mine ta zee it too, " An o' tta blowth ta take." " An how can you, a seely man, " Jitcli seely journey make t " What ! dwont ye knaw that now about " It is the midst o' June ? " Tha hawly thorn at Kirsmas blaws — f You be zix months too zoon. " Goo whim again, yea giwky ! goo !" Zaw zed a damsel vair As dewy morn in late in MS, ; An Jerry wide did stare. " Lord Mias !" zed he, " I niver thawt, " O' Kirsmas ! — while I've shoes, " To goo back now I be zet out, " Is what I shoU not choose. " I'll zee the Torr an hawly thorn, " An Glassenberry too ; " An, nif you'll put me in tha wa, " I'll gee grate thanks tayou.'' " Goo droo thic veel an up thic lane, " An take tha lift hon path, " Than droo Miss Grossman's backzid strait, " Ool bring ye up ta Wrath. JERKRT NUTTY. 95 " Now mine, whaur you do turn again " At varmer Veal's long yacker, " Clooase whaur Jan Lide, tha cobler, lives . " Wlio makes tha best o' tacker ; "You mist turn short hehine tha house " An goo right droo tha shord, " An than you'll pass a zummer lodge, " A builded by tha lord, " Tha tumpick than is jist belaw, " An Cock-hill strait avaur ye." Za, Jerry doffd his hat an bow'd. An thank'd er vor er storry. Bit moor o' this I need not zi, Vor off went Jerry Nutty ; In his right hand a w4kin stick, An in hiz qut a tutty. Bit I Torgot to za that Jer A zatchel wi' en took To hauld zum bird an cheese ta ate j — Iz drink war o' tha brook. Za when a got upon Cock-hill Upon a linch a zawt ; The zun had cUmmer'd up tha sky ; A voun it very hot. 96 POEMS. An, as iz stomick war za good, A made a horty meal ; An werry war wi' wakin, zaw A sleepid zoon did veel. That blessed power o' himj sleep, "Which auver ivery sense Da wi' wild wHverin whings extend A happy influence ; Now auver Jerry Nutty drow'd Er lissom mantle wide ; An down a drapp'd in zweetest zleep, Iz zatchel by iz zide. Not mi tha nasty stouts could w&ke En vrom iz happy zleep. Nor emmets thick, nor vlies that buz, An on iz hons da creep. Naw dreams a had ; or nif a had Mooast pleasant dreams war thS, : O' geese an goose-aggs, ducks and jitch ; Or MaUy, vur aw^, Zum gennelmen war dreavin by In a gilded cawch za gi ; Th^ zeed en lyin down asleep ; Tha bid the cawchman sti. JEBEY NUTTY. 97 Th4 ball'd tha hoop'd— a niver wak'd ; Naw houzen there war handy ; Zed one o'm, "Nif you like, my bways, " We'll ha a little randy ! " " Jist put en zdtly in tha cawch " An dreav en ta Bejw^ter ; " An as we all can't g'in wi'n here, " I'll come mysel zoon ater.'' Twar done at once : vor norn o'm car'd A strk vor wine or weather ; Than gently rawl'd the cawch along, As z^t as any veather. Bit Jerry snaur'd za loud, tha naise Tha gennelmen did gaily ; Tha'd haf a mind ta turn en out ; A war dreamin o' his Mally ! It war the morkit da as rawl'd Tha cawch athin Bejwater ; Tha drauv up ta the Crown-Inn door, Ther M4-game man com'd ater. " Here Maester Witer ! Lock-y-zee ! " A-ma-be you mid thenk " Thic mon a snauren in tlia cawch "Is auvercome wi' djviik. 11 9 8 POEMS. " Bit 'tis not not jitchy tlieng we knaw ; " A is a cunjerin mon, " Vor on Oock-hill we vound en ly'd " Iz stick stif in his hon. " Iz race war cover'd thick wi' vlies " An bloody stouts a plenty; " Nif he'd o pumple voot bezide, " An a brumstick vor'n to zit ascride, " O' wizards a mid be thawt tha pride, " Amangst a kit o' twenty." " Lord zur ! an why d'ye bring en here "To gaily all tha people? "Why zuggers !' nif we frunt en than, " He'll auver-dro tha steeple. " I bag ye, znr, to take en vooath ; " There ! how iz teeth da chatter ; " Lawk zur ! vor Christ — look there again ! " A'll witchify Bejwater !" Tha gennelman stood by an smiled To zee tha bussle risin : Yor zoon, droo-out tha morkit wide Tha news wor gwon saprisin. An round about tha cawch th4 dring'd — Tha countryman and townsman ; An young an awld, an man an maid — Wi' now an tan, an here an there, Amarig tha crowd to gape an stare, A doctor and a gownsman. JERRY NUTTY. 99 Jitch naise an bother w^kid zoon Poor formless Jerry Nutty, A look'd astunn'd ; — a cood'n speak ! An daver'd war iz tutty. A niver in Hs life avaur 'ad been athin Bejw^ter; A thawt, an if a war alive, That zummet war tha matter. Tha houzen cling'd together zaw ! Tha gennelmen an ladies ! Tha blacksmith's, brazier's hammers too ! An smauk whauriver trade is. Bit how a com'd athin a cawch A war amaz'd at thenkin ; A thawt, vor sartin, a must be A auveroome wi' drenkin. Tha ax'd en nif a'd please to g'out An ta tha yalhouse g'in ; Bit tha zo clooase about en dring'd A cood'n goo athin. Ta g'under 'em or g'axiver 'em A try'd booeith grate and small ; Bit g'under, g'auver, g'in, or g'out, A cood'n than at all. 100 POEMS, " Lord bless ye ! gennel-vawk !" zed he, " I'm come to Glassenberry " To zee tha Torr an Hawly Thorn ; '' What makes ye look za merry ?" " Why mister wizard ? dwontye knaw, " Thease town is call'd Bej water ! Cried out a whipper-snapper man : Tha ^11 bust out in laughter. " I be'nt a wizard, zur !" a zed ; « Bit I'm a little titch'd f "Or, witherwise, you mid well thenk I'm, zure anow, bewitch'd !" Thaw Jerry war, vor all tha wordle, Like very zel o' quiet, A veel'd iz blood ta bwile athin At j itchy zort o' riot ; Za out a jump'd amangst 'em ^11 ! A made a desperd bussle ; Zum hirn'd awd — zum made a ston ; Wi' zum a had a tussle. Iz stick now sar'd 'em justice good; It war a tough groun ash ; Upon ther heads a plS,'d aw^, An I'ound about did drash. * Touched. JEBRT NUTTY. 101 Th^ belg'd, tlia raur d, th^ scamper'd 411. A zoon voun rum ta stoory ; A thawfc a'd be reveng'd at once, Athout a judge or jury. An, thaw a brawk naw-body's bwons, A gid zum bloody nawzes ; Tha pirty maids war fainty too ; Him'd vrom ther cheaks tba rawzes. Thinks he, me gennelmen ! when nex I goo to Glassenbery, Yea shant ha jitch a rig wi' I, Nor at my cost be merry. Zaw, havin clear' d izzel a wL Eight whim went Jerry Nutty ; A flourished roun iz wdkin stick ; An vleng'd aw4 iz tutty. A LEGEND OF GLASTONBURY. [First Printed in " Graphic Illustrator, p. 124.] I cannot do better than introduce here " A Legend of Glas- tonbury," made up, not from books, but from oral tradition once very prevalent in and near Glastonbury, which had formerly ^e of the richest Abbeys in England ; the ruins are still attractive. Who hath not hir'd o' Avalon ?* 'Twar talked o' much an long agon, — * " The Isle of ancient Avelon."— Deatton. 102 POEMS. Tha wonders o' tha Roly Thorn, Tha -wich, zoon ^ter Christ war bom, Here a planted war by Arimathe, Thic Joseph, that com'd auver sea, An planted Kirstianity. Tha zk that whun a landed vust, (Zich plazen war in God's own trust) A stuck iz staff into tha groun An auver iz shoulder lookin roun. Whatever mid iz lot bev^ll, A cried aloud " Now, weary dll ! " Tha staff het budded an het grew. An at Kirsmas bloom'd tha whol da droo. An still het blooms at Kirsmas bright, But best thS, za at dork midnight, A pruf o' this nif pruf you will, Iz voun in tha name o' Wea/ry-dll-h/tM ! Let tell Pwm/pmrles or lazy Brue. That what iz tauld iz vor sartin true ! [" The story of the Holy Thorn was a long time credited by the vulgar and credulous. There is a species of White Thorn whicli blossoms about Christmas ; it is well known to naturalists so as to excite no surprise."] 103 MR GUY. The incident on which this story is founded, occurred in the early part of the last century ; hence the allusion to making a wUl before making a journey to the metropolis. Me. Guy war a gennelman O' Huntspill, well knawn As a grazier, a hiroh one, Wi' Ions o' liiz awn. A 6ten went ta Lunnun Hiz cattle vor ta zill ; All tha horses that a rawd Niver minded hadge or hill. A war afeard o' naw one ; A niver made hiz will, Like wither vawk, avaur a went His cattle vor ta zill. One time a'd bin ta Lunnun An zawld iz cattle well ; A brought awa a power o' gawld. As I've a hired tell. As late at night a rawd along All droo a unket ood, A ooman rawze vrom off tha groun An right avaur en stood : 104 POEMS. She look'd za pitis Mr. Guy At once hiz boss's pace Stapt short, a wonderin how, at night, She comfd in jitch a place. A little trunk war in her hon ; She zim'd vur gwon wi' chile. She ax'd en nif a'd take her up And cor her a veo mile. Mr. Guy, a man o' veelin For a ooman in distress. Than took er up behind en : A cood'n do na less. A corr'd er trunk avaur en. An by hiz belt o' leather A bid er hawld vast ; on tha rawd, Athout much tak, together. Not vur tha went avaur she gid A wliissle loud an long ; "Which Mr. Guy, thawt very strange ; Er voice too zim'd za strong ! She'd lost er dog, she zed ; an than Another whissle blaw'd, That stortled Mr. Guy ; — a stapt Hiz hoss upon tha rawd. MR. GUT. 105 Goo on, zed she ; bit Mr. Guy Zum rig beginn'd ta fear : Vor voices rawze upon tha wine, An. zim'd a comin near. Again tM rawd along ; again She whissled. Mr. Guy WMpt out hiz knife an cut tha belt. Then push'd er off ! — Vor why ? Tha ooman he took up behine, Begummers, war a man t Tha rubbers zaw ad lad ther plots Our grazier to trepan. I shall not stap ta tell what zed Tha man in ooman's clawze ; Bit he, and all o'm jist behine, War what you mid suppawze. Thd oust, th4 swaur, thd dreaten'd too, An ater Mr. Guy Th4 gallop'd All ; 'twar niver-tha-near : Hiz hoss along did vly. Auver downs, droo dales, awa a went, 'Twar da- light now amawst. Till at an inn a stapt, at last, Ta thenk what he'd a lost. 106 POEMS. A lost 1 — why, nothin — but hiz belt !- A zummet moor ad gain'd : Thic little trunk a corr'd awa — It gawld g'lore contain'd ! Nif Mr. Guy war hircb avaur, A now war hircher still : Tha plunder o' tha Hgliwamen Hiz coffers went ta vill. In. safety Mr. Guy rawd whim ; A 6ten tawld tha storry. Ta meet wi' jitch a rig myzel I shood'n, soce, be zorry. THE ROOKERY. The Rook, corvus frugilegus, is a bird of considerable intelli- gence, and is, besides, extremely useful in destroying large quan- tities of worms and larvae of destructive insects. It will, it is true, if not watched, pick out, after they are dibbled, both pease and beans from the holes with a precision triily astonishing : a very moderate degree of care is, however, sufficient to prevent this evil, which is greatly overbalanced by the positive good which it effects in the destruction of insects. It is a remarkable fact, and not, perhaps, generally known, that this bird rarely roosts at the rookery, except for a few months during the period of incu- bation, and rearing its young. In the winter season it more com- monly takes flights of no ordinary length, to roost on the trees of some remote anjl sequestered wood. The Elm is its favorite, on which it usually builds ; but such is its attachment to locality TEE EOOKEKY. 107 t that since the incident alluded to in the following Poem took place the Books have, many of them, built in^r trees at a little distance from their former habitation. The habits of the Rook are well Worthy the attention of all who delight in the study of Natural History. MT.zong is o' tha Rookery, Not jitch. as I a zeed On stunted trees wi' leaves a veo, A very veo indeed, In tHc girt place tha Lunnun cill ; — Tha To-wer an tha Pork H^ booath a got a Eookery, Althaw tha han't a Lork. I zeng not o' jitch Eookeries, Jitch plazen, pump or banners ; Bit town-berd Eooks, vor all tha,t, h^, I warnt ye, curious manners. My zong is o' a Eookery My Father's cot bezide, Avaur, years ater, I war born 'Twar long tha porish pride. Tha elms look'd up like giants tMl Ther branchy yarms aspread ; An green plumes wavin wi' tha wine, Made gk each lofty head. 108 POEMS. Ta dr^ tha pectur out — ther war At distance, zid between Tha trees, a thatcli'd Form-lioiise, am geese A cacklin on tha green. A river, too, clooase by tha trees, Its stickle coose on slid, Whaur yells an trout an wither fish Mid 6tentimes be zid. Tha rooks voun this a pleasant place — A whim ther young ta rear ; An I a &ten pleas'd a bia Ta wdtch 'em droo tha year. 'Tis on tha da o' Valentine Or there or thereabout, [ Tha rooks da vust begin ta build. An cawin, make a rout. Bit aw ! when May's a come, ta zee Ther young tha gunner's shut Vor SPOORT, an bia, as zum da zi, (Naw readship in't I put) That nifthd did'n shut tha rooks Thd'd zoon desert tlia trees ! Wise vawk ! Thic reason vor ther spoort Gee thd mid nif tha please ! THE ROOKERY. 109 Still zeng I o' tha Rookery, Vor years it war tha pride Of 411 tha place, bit 'twor ta I A zumthin moor bezide. A hired tha Rooks avaur I upp'd ; I hired 'em droo tha da ; I hired ther young while gittin flush An ginnin jist ta ca. I hired 'em when my mother gid Er lessins kind ta I, In jitch a wS, when I war young, That I war fit ta cry. I hired 'em at tha cottage door. When mornin, in tha spreng, Wdk'd vooath in youth an beauty too, An birds beginn'd ta zeng. I hired 'em in tha winter-time When, roustin vur aw4, Th4 visited tha Rookery A whiverin by da. My childhood, youth, and manood too, My Father's cot recall Thic Rookery. Bit I mist now Tell what it did bevall. 110 POEMS. ' Twar M4-time — heavy wi' tha nests Wai- laden 411 tha trees ; An to an fraw, wi' creekin loud, Tha sway'd ta iv'ry breeze. One night tha wine — a thun'drin wine, Jitch as war hired o' niver, Blaw'd two o' thic girt giant trees Flat down into tha river. Nests, aggs, an young uns, 411 awa War zweept into tha water ; An zaw war spwiled tha Eookery Vor iver and iver ater. I visited my Father's cot : Tha Rooks war all a gwon ; Whaur stood tha trees in lofty pride I zid there norra one. My Father's cot war desolate ; An all look'd wild, vorlorn ; Tha Ash war stunted that war zet Tha dk that I war born. My Father, Mother, Rooks, 411 gwon ! My Charlotte an my Lizzy ! — Tha gorden wi' tha tutties too ! — Jitch thawts ■rt^hy be za bizzy ! — THE KOOKERY. Ill Behawld tha wk o' human thengs ! Rooks, lofty trees, an Friends — A kill'd, taur up, like leaves drap oif ! — Zaw feaver'd bein ends. TOM GOOL, AND LUCK IN THA BAG. " Luck, Luck in tha Bag ! Good Luck ! " Put in an try yer fortin ; " Come, try yer luck in tha Lucky Bag ! " You'll git a prize vor sartin." Mooast plazen ha their customs Ther manners an ther men ; We too a got our customs, Our manners and our men. He who a bin ta Huntspill FAyer Or Highbridge — Pawlet Revel — Or Burtle Sassions, whaur tha pl& Zumtimes tha very devil, Mist mine once a man well That war a call'd Tom Gool ; Zum thawt en mazed, while withers thawt En moor a knave than fool. 112 POEMS. At all tha flyers an revels too Tom Gool war shower ta be, A t&kin vlother vast awa, — A hoopin who bit he. Vor'ill that a had a zoort o' wit That zet tha vawk a laughin ; An mooast o' that, when he tha yal Ad at tha fiyer bin quaffin. A corr'd a kit o' pedLir's waur, Like awld Joannah Martin;* An nif you han't a hired o' her, You zumtime shoU vor sartin. * This Lady, wlio was for many years known in Somerset- shire as an itinerant dealer in earthenware, rags, &c., and occasionally b, fortune-teller, died a few years since at Huntspill, where she had resided for the greater part of a century. She was extremely illiterate, so much so, as not to be able to write, and, I think, could scarcely read. She lived for some years in a house belongmg to my father, and while a boy, I was very often her gratuitous amanuensis, in writing letters for her to her children. She possessed, however, considerable shrewdness, energy, and perseverance,' and amassed property to the amount of several hundred pounds. She had three husbands ; the name of the first was, I believe, Gool or Gould, a relation of Thomas Gool, the subject of the above Poem ; the name of the second was Martin, of the third Pain ; but as the last lived a short time only after having married her, she always continued to be called Joannah Martin. Joannah was first brought into public notice by the Eev. Mr. Wabnek, in his Walks through the Western Counties, published in 1800, in which work will be found a hvely and interesting description of her ; but she often said that she should wish me to write her life, as I was, of course, more TOM GOOL. 113 " Luck, Luck in fcha Bag !" Tom, cried " Put in and try yer fortin ; " Come try yer luck in tha lucky bag ; " You'll git a prize vor sartin. " All prizes, norra blank, " Norra bltok, S,ll prizes ! " A waiter — knife — or scissis steer — " A splat o' pins — put in my dear ! — " Whitechapel nills all sizes. " Luckf Luck in tha Bag ! — only a penny vor a venter — you mid get, a-ma-be, a girt prize — a,Bawmaii waiter ! — I can avoord it as cheep as thic that stawl it —I a bote it ta trust, an niver intend to p4 vor't. Luck, Luck in tha bag ! k\\ prizes; norra blank ! intimately acquainted with it than any casual inquirer could possibly be. An additional notice of Joannah was inserted by me in the MontJdy Magazine, for Nov. 1816, page 310. I had among my papers, the original song composed by her, which I copied from her dictation many years ago,^ — the only, copy in existence ; I regret that I cannot lay my hand upon it ; as it contains much of the Somersetshire idiom. I have more than once heard her sing this song, which was satirical, and related to the conduct of a female, one of her neighbours, who had become a thief. Such was JoAJSTNAH Maetin, a woman whose name (had she moved in a sphere where her original talents could have been improved by education,) might have been added to the list of distinguished female worthies of our country. [The MS. song was never, that I am aware of, discovered after my relative's death. — Editor, J. K. J.] I 114 POEMS. " Luck, Luck in tha Bag ! Good Luck ! " Put in an try yer fortin ; " Come, try yer luck in tha lucky bag ! " You'll git a prize vor sartin. " Come, niver mine tha single-sticks, " Tha •whoppin or tha stickler, " You dwon't want now a brawken head, " Nor jitchy zoort o' tickler ! " Now Lady ! yer prize is — ' A Snupf-Box,' " A treble-japann'd Pontypool ! " You'll shower come again ta my luck in tha bag, " Or niver trust me — Tommy Gool. " Luck, Luck in tha bag ! Good Luck ! " Put in an try yer fortin ; " Come, try yer luck in tha lucky bag ! " You'll git a prize for sartin ! 115 TEDDY BAND. " The short and simple annals ot the poor. " Gray. Miss Hcmson to Miss Mortimer. Ashcot, July 21st. My Dear Jane. "Will you do me the favour to amuse yourself and your friends with the enclosed epistle ? it is cer- tainly an original — ^written in the dialect of the County. You will easily understand it, and, I do not doubt, the "moril "too. Edward Band, or as he is more commonly called here, Teddy Band, is a poor, but honest and industrious cottager, but I am, nevertheless, disposed to think that " if ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." My deat Jane, affectionately yours, Maria Hanson. Teddy Band to Miss Hanson. Mam, I da thenk you'll smile at theeazam here veo lains that I write ta you, bin \ be naw scholard ; vor vather coud'n avoord ta put I ta school. Bit nif 116 POEMS. you'll vorgee me vor my bauldniss, a-md-be, I mid not be afeard ta za zummet ta you that you, mim your- zell mid like ta bire. Bit bow be I ta knaw that ? T knaw that you be a goodborted Lady, an da like ta zee poor vawk -well-at-eased an happy. You axt I totber da ta zing a zong : now I dwont much like zum o' tbd zongs that I hired thic night at squire Reevs's when we made an end o' HS,-corrin : vor, zim ta I, there war naw moril to 'em. I like zongs wi' a moril to 'em. Tha nawtes, ta be shower, war z^t anow, bit, vor 411 that, I war looking vor tha moril, mam. Zo, when I cum'd whim, I tawld our Pall, that you axt I ta zing : an I war zorry ^terward that I did'n, bin you be always zo desperd good ta poor vowk. Bit I thawt, a-ma-be, you mid be angry wi' my country lidden. Why Teddy, zed Pall, dwont ye zend Miss Hanson thic zong which ye made yerzel ; I thenk ther is a moril in thic. An zo, mam, nif you please, I a zent tha zong. I haup you'll vorgee me. Mam, your humble sarvant, Teddy Band. ZONG. I HAVE a cot o' Cob-wdll Roun which tha ivy clims ; My Pally at tha night-vall Er crappin vier trims. TEDBT BAND. 117 A comin vrom tha plow-veel I zee tha blamkers rise, Wi' blue smauk cloudy curlin, An wMveriug up tha skies. When tha winter wines be crousty, An snaws dreav vast along, I hurry whim — tha door tine, An cheer er wi' a zong. When spreng, adresst in tutties, CiUs ill tha birds abroad ; An wrans an robin-riddicks, Tell ill the cares o' God, I zit bezides my cot-door After my work is done, While Pally, bizzy knittin, Looks at tha zettin zun. When zummertime is passin, An harras das be vine, I drenk tha sporklin cider. An wish naw wither wine. How zweet tha smUl o' clawver, How zweet tha smill o' hi ; How zweet is haulsom labour. Bit zweeter Pall than thi. 118 POEMS. An -who d'ye thenk I envy ? — . Tha nawbles o' tha land ? ThS, can't be moor than happy. An that is Teddy Band. Mister Ginning ; I a red thic ballet o' yourn cdlled Fanny Fear, an, zim ta I, there's naw moril to it. Mf zaw be you da thenk zo -well o't, I'll gee one. I dwont want to frunt any ov the gennelmen o' tha country, bit I always a thawt it desperd odd, that dogs should be keept in a kannel, and keept a hungered too, zaw that tha mid be moor eager to hunt thic poor little theng called a hare. I dwon' naw, bit I da thenk, nif I war a gennelman, that I'd vine better spoort than huntin ; bezides, zim ta I 'tis desperd wicked to hunt animals vor one's spoort. Now, jitch a horrid blanscue as what happened at Shapick, niver could a bin but vor tha hungry houns. I haup that gennelmen ool thenk o't oten ; an when thS, da hire tha yell o' tha houns tha'U not vorgit Fanny Fear ; a-m4-be tha mid be zummet tha wiser an better vor't ; I'm shower jitch a storry desarves ta be remimbered. This is the moril. I am, sur, your sarvant,, Teddy Band. 119 THE CHURCHWARDEN. Upon a time, naw matter whaur, Jitch plazen there be many a scaur In Zummerzet's girt gorden ; (Ive hir'd 'twar handy ta tha zea, Not vur Yrom whaur tha zantots be) There liv'd a young churchwarden. A zim'd delighted when put in. An zaw a thawt a cod begin Ta do hiz oflSce duly : Bit zum o'm, girt vawk in ther wa — Tha Parish o'ten csllled, — a girt bell sheep Or two that lead the rest an quiet keep — Put vooath ther hons iz coose to stS,, Which made en quite unruly. A went, of coose, ta Visitation Ta be sworn in ; — an than 'twar nS,tion Herd that a man his power should doubt, — An moor — ta try ta turn en out ! " Naw, Naw ! " exclaim'd our young churchwarden, " I dwon't care vor ye 411 a copper varden ! " Tha church war durty. — ^Wevets here Hang'd danglin vrom tha ruf ; an there Tha plaisterin shaw'd a crazy w^ll ; 120 POEMS. Tha 41tar-piece war dim and dowsty too, That Peter's maricle tb4 scase cood view. Tha Ten CommaQdments nawbody cood rade j* Tha Lord's Prayer ad nuthin in't bit " Brade ; "t Nor had tha Creed A lain or letter parfit, grate or small. 'Twar time vor zum one ta renew 'em all. I've tawld o' wevets — zum o'm odd enow ; Th^ look'd tha colour of a dork dun cow, An like a skin war stratched across tha corners ; Tha knitters o' tha porish t^k'd o knittin Stockins wi' 'em ! — Bit aw, how unbevittin All tak like this ! — aw fie, tha wicked scorners ! Ta work went tha Churchwarden ; wevets tummel'd Down by tha bushel, an tha pride o' dowst war hummel'd. Tha w^Us once moor look'd bright. Tha PEiinter, fags, a war a Plummer An Glazier too, Put vooath bis powers, (His workin made naw little scummer !) In zentences, in flourishes, and flowers. Tha chance), church and all look'd new, An war well suited to avoord delight. Tha Ten Commandments glitter'd wi' tha vornish; Compleat now, tha Lord's Prayer, what cood tornish. * Read f Bread THE CHtntCHWARDEN. 121 As vor tha Creed 'twar made bran new Vrom top ta bottom; I tell ye true ! Tha S,ltar piece wi' Peter war now naw libel Upon tha church, Which booath athin an, tower an all, athout Look'd like a well-dressed maid in pride about ; Tha walls rej^ic'd wi' texts took vrom tha Bible. Bit vor S,ll that, thsi, left en in tha lurch ; I bag your pardon. I mean, of all tha expense th4 ood'n psi, a varden. Jitch zweepin, birshin, paintin, scrubbia ; Tha tuts ad niver jitch a drubbin ; Jitch white-washin and jitch brought gwdin A power of money. — Tha Painter's bill Made of itzel a pirty pill, Ta zwell which 411 o'm tried in vain ! Ther stomicks tum'd, ther drawts were norry ; * Jitch gUlded pills thji cood'n corry. A.n when our young churchwarden ax'd em why, Thsi, laugh'd at en, an zed, ther drawts war dry. Tha keeper o' tha church war wrong ; (Churchwarden still the burden o' my zong) A should at vust A call'd a Vestry : vor 'tis hord ta trust To Porish generasity ; an zaw A voun it : I dwon' knaw * Narrow. 122 POEMS. Whaur or who war his advisers ; Zuni zed a Tiiyer gid en. bad advice ; A-md-be saw ; jitoh vawk ben't always nice. Layers o' advice be seltimes misers Nif there's wherewi' ta pa ; Or, witherwise, good bwye ta Layers an tha La. A Vestry than at last war cried — A Vestry's power let noane deride — When tha church war auver tha clork bal'd out, Aw eese I aw eese ! aw eese ! All wonder'd what cood be about. An stratch'd ther necks like a vlock o' geese ; Why — ta make a Rate Vor tha chwrch's late Repairdtion. A grate noration,. A nation naise tha nawtice made, About tha cost ta be defray' d Vor tha church's repairdtion. Tha Vestry met, 411 naise an bother ; One ood'n wait ta hire tha tuther. When thS war tir'd o' jitch a gabble, Ta bal na moor not one war yable, A man, a little zS,tenfare, Got lip hiz verdi ta delcare. Now Soce, zed he, why we be gw^in Ta meet in Vestry here in vSin. THE CHURCHWARDEN. 123 Let's come to some determination, An not tak all in jitch a fashion. Let's zee tha 'counts. A snatcli'd tha book Vrom tha Churchwarden in't ta look. Tha hook war chained clooase to his wrist ; A gid en slUy jitch a twist ! That the yoking Churchwarden loud raur'd out, " You'll break my yarm ! — what be about 1 " Tha man a little z4tenfare, An 411 tha Vestry wide did stare ! Bit Soce, zed he again, I niver zeed Money brought gwain zaw bad. "What need War ther tha dltar-piece ta titch ? What good war paintin, vornishin, an jitch ? What good war't vor'n ta mend Tha Ten Commandments 1 — Why did he Mell o' tha Lord's Prayer ? Lockyzee ! Ther war naw need To meE. or make wi' thic awld Creed. I'm zorry vor'n ; eesse zorry as a friend ; Bit can't conzent our wherewi' zaw ta spend. Th4 Ml, wi one accord, At tha little zatenfare's word, Agreed, that, not one varden, By Bate, Should be collected vor tha late Kepair^tion Of tha church by tha young Churchwarden. 124 THE PISHERMAIir AND THE PLAYERS. Now who is ther that han't a hir'd O' one young Tom Came ? A Fisherman of Huntspill, An a well-knawn name. A knaw'd much moor o' fishin Than many vawk bezides ; An a knaw'd much moor than mooast about Tha zea an ^11 tha tides. A knaw'd well how ta make buts, An huUies too an jitch, An up an down tha river whaur Tha best place vor ta pitch. A knaw'd ill about tha stake-hangs Tha zilmon vor ta catch; — Tha pitch in an tha dippin net, — Tha Slime an tha Mud-Batch.* * Two islands well known in the River Parret, near its mouth. Several words 'will be found in this Poem which I have not placed in the Glossary, because they seem too local and technical to deserve a place there : they shall be here expl ained, THE FISHERMAN AND THE PLATERS. 125 A handled too iz gads well His paddle and iz oor ;* A war always bawld an fearless — A, when upon tha Goor.t O' heerins, spi-ats,. an porpuses — O' S,ll fish a cood tell,; Who bit he amangst tha Fishermen — A Mways beard tha bell. Tommy Came ad hired o' P14yers, Bit niver zeed 'em pl4 ; Tha war actin at Bej water ; There a went wi' Sally J)L To Pitch. V. n. To fish with a hoat and a pitchin-net in a pro- per position across the current so that the fiah may be caught. Pitchin-net. s. A large triangular net attached to two poles, and used with a boat for the purpose, chiefly, ot catching salmon. — The fishing boats in the Parret, are fiat-bottomed, in length about seventeen feet, about four feet and a half wide, and poin- ted at both ends : the are easily managed by one person, and rarely, if ever, known to overturn. Dippen-net. s. A small net somewhat semicircular, and attached tu two round sticks for sides, and a long pole for a handle. It is used for the purpose of dipping salmon and some other fiah, as the shad, out of water. Gad. s. A long pole, having an iron point to it, so that it may be easily thrust into the ground. Two gads are used for each boats. Their uses are to keep the boat steady across the current in order that the net may be in a proper position * Oar. i* The Gore. Dangerous sands so called, at the mouth of the River Parret, in the Bristol Channel. 126 POEMS. When tha curtain first driw'd up, than Sapriz'd war Tommy Came ; A'd h^f a mine ta him awa, Bit stapp'd vor very shame. Tha vust act bein auver Tha zecond jist begun, Tommy Came still wonder'd grately, Ta him it war naw fun. Zaw 4ter lookin on zumtime, Ta understond did strive ; There now, zed he, I'll gee my woth* That th& he All alive 1 MAEY RAMSEY'S CEUTCH. I ZENG o' Ma/ry Romiseys Crutch ! " Thic little theng !"— Why 'tis'n much It's true, but still I like ta touch Tha cap o' Ma/ry Eamsey's Crutch 1 She zed, wheniver she shood die, Er little crutch she'd gee ta I. Did Mary love me ? eese a b'leeve. She died — a veo vor her did grieve, — An hut a veo — vor Mary awld, * Oath. MART Ramsey's crutch. 127 Outliv'd er friends, or voun 'em cawld. Thic crutcli I had — I ha it still, An port wi't wont — nor niver wUl. O' her I lorn'd tha cris-cross-Min ; I haup that 'tword'n quite in v^in ! 'Twar her who teach'd me vast ta read Jitch little words as heef an hread ; An I da thenk 'twar her that, dter, Lorn'd I ta read tha single zSter. Poor Mary 6ten used ta tell 0' das a past that pleas'd er well ; An mangst tha rest war zum o' jay When I look'd up a little bway. She zed I war a good one too, An lorn'd my book athout tha rue* Poor Mary's gwon !^a longful time Zunz now ! — er little scholard's prime A-m4-be's past. — It must be zaw ; — There's nothin stable here belaw ! 0' Mary — all left is — er crutch ! An thaw a gift, an 'tword'n much 'lis true, still I da like ta touch Tha cap o' Mary Eamisey's Crutch ! That I lov'd Mary, this ool tell. I'll za na moor — -zaw, for§ well !t • This Lady, when her scholars neglected their duty, or behaved lU, rubbed their fingers with the leaves of rue ! + Fare ye well. 128 HANNAH VERRIOR. Tha za I'm maz'd, — mj Husband's dead, My chile, (hush. ! hush ! Lord love er face !) Tha pit-hawl had at Milemas, when Tha put me in theaze pooat-hawl place. Th^ za I'm maz'd.— I veel— I thenk— I tak — I ate, an oten drenk. — Tha thenk, a-m^-be, zumtimes, veel — An gee me stra vor bed an peel ! Tha z4 I'm maz'd. — Hush ! Babby, dear ! Th4 shan't come to er ! — niver fear ! Th4 zi thy Father's dead ! — -Naw, naw ! A'll niver die while I'm belaw. Tha za I'm maz'd. — Why dwont you speak 1 Fie James ! — or else my hort ool break ! — James is not dead ! nor Babby ! — naw ! Thi'll niver die while I'm belaw ! 129 REMEMBRANCE. An shall I drap tha Reed — an shall I, Athout one nawte about my Sally ? Althaw we Pawets fill be zingers, We like, -wi' enk, ta dye our Vingers ; Bit mooast we like in vess ta pruv That we remimber those we love. Sim-like-it than, that I should iver Vorgit my Sally. — Mver, niver ! Vor, while I've wander'd in tha West — At mornin tide — at evenin rest — On Quantock's hills — in Mendip's vales — On. Parret's banks — in zight o' Wales — In thio awld mansion whaur tha bdll Once vrighten'd Lady Drake an kR ; — When wi' tha Ladies o' thic dell Whaur witches spird ther 'ticin spell — * Amangst tha rocks on Watchet shaur When did tha wine an waters raur — In Banwell's cave — on Loxton hill — At Clifton g4— at Eickford riU— In Compton ood — in Hartree coom — At Crispin's cot wi' little room ; — * Combe Sybbnham, the residence of my Friend, George N^OTLBY, Esq. The history of the Magic Ball, as it has been :alled, is now pretty generally known, and therefore need not oe here repeated. 130 POEMS. At Upton — Lansdown's lofty brow — At Bath, whaur pleasure flints enow ; At Trowbi-idge, whaur by Friendship's heed, I blaw'd again my silent Reed, An there enjay'd, wi' quiet, rest, Jitch recollections o' tha West ; Whauriver stapp'd my voot along I thawt o' Hee. — Here ends my zong. DOCTOR COX; A BLANSCUE. {First printed in the Graphic Illustrator.) The catastrophe described in the following sketch, occurred near Highbridge, in Somersetshire, about the year 1779. — Mr. or Doctor Cox, as surgeons are usually called iu the west, was the only medical resi- dent at Huntspill, and in actual practice for many miles around that village. The conduct of Mr. Robert Evans, the friend and associate of Cox, can only be , accounted for by one of those unfortunate infatu- ations to which the minds of some are sometimes liable. Had an immediate alarm been given when we children first discovered that Cox was missing, he might, probably, have been saved. The real cause of his death was, a too great abstraction of heat from DOCTOR cox. 131 the body ; as the water was fresh and still, and of con- siderable depth, and, under the surface, much beneath the usual temperature of the human body. This fact ought to be a lesson to those who bathe in still and deep fresh water ; and to warn them to continue only a short time ia such a cold medium.* The Beue war bright, and deep and clear ;f And Lammas da and harras near : The zun \ipon the waters drode Girt sheets of light as on a rode ; From'zultry heat the cattle hirn'd To shade or water as to firnd : Men, too, in yarly ^ternoon Dofi'd quick ther cloaths and dash'd in zoon * Various efforts to restore the suspended animation of Cox, sucli as shaking him, rolling him on a cask, attempts to get out the water which it was then presumed had got into the stomach or the lungs, or both, in the drowning ; strewing salt over the body, and many other equally ineffectual and improper methods to restore the circulation were, I believe, pursued. Instead of which, had the body been laid in a natural position, and the lost heat gradually administered, by the application of warm frictions, a warm bed, &c., how easily in all probability, would animation have been restored ! f The reader must not suppose that the river Brue, is generally a clear stream, or always rapid. I have elsewhere called it " lazy Brue.'' It is sometimes, at and above the floodgates at Sigh- bridge, when they are not closed by the tide, a rapid stream ; but through the moors, generally, its course is slow. In the summer- time, and at the period to which allusion is made, the floodgates were closed. 1 32 POEMS. To tliic deep river, whaur the trout, In all ther prankin, plM about ; And yels wi' zilver skins war zid, While gudgeons droo the water slid, Wi' carp sumtimes and wither fish Avoordon many a dainty dish. Whaur elvers* too in spring time plad, And pailvuls mid o' them be had. The water cold — the zunshine bright. To zwimmers than what high delight ! 'Tis long agwon whun youth and I Wish'd creepin Time would rise and vly — A, half a hundred years an moor Zunz I a trod theaze earthly vloor ! I zed, the face o' Brue war bright ; Time smil'd too in thic zummer light. Wi' Hope bezide en promising A wordle o' fancies wild o' whing. I mine too than one lowering cloud That zim'd to wrop us like a shroud ; The death het war o' Doctor Cox — To thenk o't now the storry shocks ! Vor all the country vur and near Shod than vor'n many a horty tear. * Young eels are called elvers in Somersetaliire. Walton, in his Angler, says, " Young eels, in the Severn, are called yehieri." In what part of the country through which the Severn passes they are called yelvers we are not told in Walton's hook ; as eels are called, in Somersetshere, yels, analogy seems to require yelvera for their young ; but I never heard them so called. The elvers used to be obtained from the salt-water side of the bridge. DOCTOR COX. 133 The Doctor like a duck could zwim ;■ No fear o' drownia daver'd him ! The pectur now I zim I zee ! I -wish I could het's likeness gee ! His Son, my brother John, myzel, Or Evans, mid the storry tell ; Bat th& be gwon and I, o' 411 O'm left to za what did bevall. Zo, nif zo be you like, why I To tell the storry now ool try. Thic Evans had a coward core And fear'd to venter vrom the shore; While to an vro, an vur an near, And now an tan did Cox appear In dalliance with the waters bland. Or zwimmin wi' a maester hand. We youngsters dree, the youngest I, To zee the zwimmers 411 stood by Upon the green bonk o' the Brue Jist whaur a stook let water droo : A quiet time of joyousness Zim'd vor a space thic da to bless ! A dog' too, faithful to his maester War there, and mang'd wi' the disaster — Vigo, ah well I mine his name ! A Newvoun-lond and very tame ! But Evans only war to blame : He 4118s paddled near the shore Wi' timid ton and coward core ; 134 POEMS. While Doctor Gox div'd, zwim'd at ease Like fishes in. the zummer seas j Or as the skaiters on the ice In winin circles wild and nice Yet in a moment he war gwon, The wonderment of ivry one : That is, we dree and Evans, ill That zeed what Blanscue did bevdll. — Athout one sign, or naise, or cry. Or shriek, or splash, or groati, or sigh ! Could zitch a zwimmer ever die In water ? — Yet we gaz'd in vain Upon thic bright and water plain : All smooth and calm — -no ripple gave One token of the zwimmer's grave ! We hir'd en not, we zeed en not ! — The glassy witer zim'd a blot ? While Evans, he of coward core, Still paddled as he did bevore ! At length our fears our silence broke, — Young as we war, and children 411, We wish'd to goo an zum one cill ; But Evans carelissly thus spoke — " Oh, Cox is up the river gone, Yor sartain ool be back anon ; — He tilk'd o' cyder, zed he'd g'up To Stole's* an drenk a horty cup !" * Mr. Stole resided near Newbridge, about a mile from the spot where the accident occurred ; he was somewhat famous for his cyder. DOCTOR COX. 135 Conjecture anty as tke wine ! And zoon did he het's faleshood vine. John Gox 'took up Ms father's cloaths — Poor fellow ! he beginn'd to cry ! Than, Evans vrom the w^ter rose ; " A hunderd vawk'U come bimeby," A zed ; whun, short way vrom the shore. We zeed, what zeed we not avore, The head of Doctor Cox appear — Het floated in the w^ter clear ! Bolt upright war he, and his hair, That pruv'd he sartainly war there, Zwimm'd on the water ! — Evans than. The stupid'st of a stupid man, Call'd Vigo — pointed to that head — In Vigo dash'd — Cox was not dead ! But seiz'd the dog's lag — helt en vast ! One struggle, an het war the last ! Ah ! well do I remember it — That struggle I shoU ne'er forgit ! Vigo was frightened and withdrew ; The body zink'd at once vrom view. Did Evans, gallid Evans then, CM out, at once, vor father's men ? (Tha war at work vor'n very near A mendin the old Highbridge pier,) A did'n c411, but 'mus'd our fear — " A hundred vawk ool zoon be here !" A zed. — We gid the hue and cry ! And zoon a booat wi' men did vly ! 136 POEMS. But twar ill auver ! Cox war voun Not at the bottom lyin down, But up aneen, as jist avore We zeed en floatin nigh the shore. But death 'ad done his wnst — not all Th& did could life's last spork recall. Zo Doctor Gox went out o' life A vine, a, and as honsom mon, As zun hath iver shin'd upon ; A left a family — a wife. Two sons — one ddter. As beautiful as lovely Mi, Of whom a-ma-bi I mid za Zumthin here^ter : What thi veel'd now I shoU not tell— My hort athin me 'gins to zwell ! Reflection here mid try in vain, Wither particulars to gain, Evans zim'd 411 like one possest ; Imagination 1 tell the rest ! L'ENVOY. To all that sholl theeaze storry read, The Truth must vor it chiefly plead ; I gee not here a tale o' ort, Nor snip-snap wit, nor lidden smort. But 6ten, 6ten by thic river. Have I a pass'd ; yet niver, niver, Athout a thought o" Doctor Gox — A DEDICATION. 137 His dog — his death — his floatin locks ! The mooast -whun Brue war deep and clear, And Lammas d& an harras near ; — Whun zummer vleng'd his light abroad, — The zun in ill his glory rawd ; How beautiful mid be the dS, A zumthiu illgs zim'd to zk, " Whar whing ! the wdter's deep an' olea/r, But death mid he a Iwrkin nea/r /" A DEDICATION. Thenk not, bin I ood be tha fashion. That I, ZiR, write theaze Dedication ; I write, I haup I dwon't offend. Bin I be proud ta call You Friend. I here ston "vooath, alooan unbidden To 'muse you wi' my country lidden ; — Wi' remlet's o' tha Saxon tongue That to our Gramfers did belong. Vor 411 it is a little thing, Receave it — Friendship's offering — Ta pruv, if pruf I need renew, That I esteem not lightly You. 138 POEMS. THE FAREWELL. A LONGPUL time zunz I this vust begun ! One little tootin moor and I a done. " One little tootin moor ! — Enough, " Vor once, we've had o' jitohy stuff; " Thy lidden to a done 'tis time ! " Jitch words war niver zeed in rhyme ! " Vorgee me vor'm. — 600 little Reed ! Aforn tha vawk an vor me plead : Thy wild nawtes, m4-be, th& ool hire Zooner than zater vrom a lyre. Za that, thy maesten's pleas' d ta blaw 'em, An haups in time thd'llcome ta knaw 'em ; An nif zaw he thSUl please ta hear A'll gee zum moor another yea/r. Ive nothin else jist now ta tell : Goo, little Reed, an than forwel ! 139 FARMER BENNET AN JAN LIDE, A DIALOGUE. Farrwr Bennet. — Jan ! ■why dwon't ye right my shoes ? Jan Lide. — Bin, maester 'tis zaw cawld, I can't work wi' tha taoker at dll ; I've a brawk it ten times I'm shower ta di — da vreaze za hord. Why Hester hanged out a kittle-smock ta drowy, an in dree minits a war a vraur as stiff as a pawker ; an I can't avoord ta keep a good vier — I wish I cood — I'd zoon right your shoes and withers too — I'd zoon yam* ziim money, I warnt ye. Can't ye vine zum work vor me, maester, theaze hord times — I'll do any theng ta sar a penny. — I can drash — I can cleave brans — I can make spars — I can thatchy — I can shear ditch, an I can gripy too, bit da vreaze za hord. I can wimmy^ — I can messy- or milky nif ther be need o't, I ood'n mine dreavin plough or any theng. Farmer Bennet. — I've a got nothing vor ye ta do, Jan ; bit Mister Boord banehond ta I jist now that th4 war gwain ta wimmy, ond that thi wanted zum- body ta help 'em. • Earn. 140 DIALOGUES. Jan Lide. — Aw, I'm glad o't, I'll liirn auver an zee where I can't help 'em ; bit I han't a bin athiu tha drashel o' Maester Boord's door vor a longful time, bin Ithawt that missis did'n use Hester well ; but I dwon't bear malice, an zaw I'll goo. Farmer Bennet. — What did Missis Boord za or do ta Hester, than ? Jan lAde. — Why, Hester, a-ma-be, war zummet ta blame too : vor she war one o'm, d'ye zee, that rawd Skimmerton — thic mS, game that frunted zum o' tha gennel-vawk. Tha zed 't war time to a done wi'jitoh litter, or jitch stuff, or I dwon knaw what tha call'd it; bit thS, war a frunted wi' Hester about it : an I zed nif thd war a frunted wi' Hester, th4 mid be frunted wi' I. This zet missis's back up, an Hester han't a bin a choorin there zunz. Bit 'tis niver-the-near ta bear malice ; and zaw I'll goo auver an zee which wd tha wine da blaw. THOMAS CAME AN YOUNG MAESTER JIMMY. Thorrms Game. — ^Aw, Maester Jimmy ! zaw you be a come whim vrom school. I thawt we shood niver zeenamoor. We've a mist ye iver zwaz thic time, when THOMAS CAME. 141 we war at zea-w411, an cut aup tha girt porpus wi' za many zalmon in hiz belly — ^zum o'm look'd, vit ta eat as thaw tha wor a bwiled, did'n thS, ? — Jvnvmy. — Aw ease, Thomas ; I da mine tha porpus; an I da mine tha udder, an tha milk o'n, too. I be a come whim, Thomas, an I dwon't thenk I shall goo ta school again theaze zummer. I shalL be out amangst ye. I'll goo wi' ta mawy, an ta ha-makin, an ta reapy — m come iter, an zet up tha' stitches vor ye, Thomas. An if I da st4 till MUemas, I'll goo ta Matthews fayer wi'. Thomas, dve ye had any zenvy the'aze year ? — I zeed a gir'd'l o't amangst tha wheat as I rawd along. Ave you bin down in ham, Thomas, o' late — is thic groun, tha ten yacres, haind vor mawin ? Thomas Ga/me. — Aw, Maester Jimmy ! I da love ta hire you tik — da zeem za naatal. "We a had zum zenvy — an tha ten yacres be a haind — a'U be maw'd in veo das— you'll come an hd-maky, o'nt ye ? — ease, I knaw you ool — an I da knaw whool goo a hi-makin wi', too —ah, she's a zweet maid — I dwon't wonder at ye at ill, Maester Jimmy — Lord bless ye, an love ye booath. Jim/my. — Thomas, you a liv'd along time wi' Father, an' I dwont like ta chide ye, bit nif you da tik o' Miss Cox in thic fashion, I knaw she on't like it, naw moor sholl I. Miss Cox, Thomas, Miss Cox ool, a-mi-be, goo a hi-makin wi' I, as she a done avaur now ; bit Sally, Miss Cox, Thomas, I wish you'd za naw moor about er. — There now, Thomas, dwon't ye zee — why shee's by tha gate-shord ! I haup she han't a hird what we a bin a tikin about. — Be tha thissles skeer'd in tha twenty 142 DIALOGUES. yacres, Thomas ?— aw, tha be. Well, I shoU be glad ■when tha ten yacres be a mawed — an when we da make an end o' hi'-corrin, I'll dance wi' Sally Cox. Thomas Game. — There, Maester Jimmy! 'tword'n I that tik'd o' Sally Cox ! »oX«o« — MARY RAMSEY, A MONOLOGUE, To er Scholards. CoMMETHER* £illy Chuhh, an breng tha hornen book. Gee me tha vester in tha ■winder, you Pal Game 1 — what ! be a sleepid — I'll wake ye. Now, Billy, there's a good bway ! Ston still there, an mine what I da zi to ye, an whaur I da pwint. — Now ; — cris-cross,t girt a little k — b — c — d. — That's right Billy ; you'll zoon lorn tha cris-cross-lain — you'll zoon auvergit Bobby Jiffry — you'll zoon be a scholar d. — A's a pirty chubby bway — Lord love'n ! Now, Pal Gam,e ! you come an vessy wi' yer zister. —There ! tha forrels o' tha book be a brawk ; why dwon't ye take moor care o'm ? — Now, read ; — Het * Come hither. + The oris, in this compound, and in cris-cross-lain, is very often, indeed most commonly, pronounced Kirs. MAKY EAMSEY. 143 Game ! why d'ye drean zaw ? — hum, hum, hum ; — you da make a naise like a spinnin turn, or a dumbledore — 411 in one lidden — hum, hum,, hum, — You'll niver lorn ta read well thic faaMon. — Here, Pal, read theaze vesses Tor yer zister. There now, Het, you mine how yer zister da read, not hum, hum, hum,. — E&se you ool, ool ye 1 — I tell ye, you must, or I'll rub zum rue auver yer hons : — what d'ye thenk o't ! — There, be gwon you Het, an dwon't ye come anuost yer zister ta vessy wi' er till you a got yer lessin moor parfit, or I'll gee zummet you on't ax me vor. Pally, you tell yer Gramfer Palmer that I da za Hetty Came shood lorn ta knitty ; an a shood buy zum knittin nills and wusterd vor er ; an a shood git er zum nills and dird, vor er to lorn to zawy too. Now Miss Whitin, tha dunces be a gwon, let I hire how pirty you can read. — I always zed that P4son Tuttle's grand^ter ood lorn er book well. — Now, Miss, what ha ye a got there ? — Valentine an Orson. — A pirty storry, bit I be afeard there's naw moril to it. — What be 411 tha tuthermy books you a got by yer goodhussey there in tha basket ? Gee's-zee-'em,* nif you please. Miss Polly. — Tha, Zeven Champions — Goody Two Shoes — Pawems vor Infant m,inds. — Theazamy here be by vur tha best. — There is a moril ta mooast o'm ; an tha be pirty bezides. — Now, Miss, please ta read |ihic — Tha Notorious Glutton. Pal Came ! turn tha glass ! dwon't ye zee tha zond is all hirnd out ; — you'll sta in school tha longer for't nif you dwon't mine it. — Now, * Lit me see them. This is a singular expression, and is thus to be analysed J Give us to see i 144 MONOLOGUE. all o' ye be quiet ta hire Miss Whitin read.— There now! what d'ye zi ta jitch radin as that ?— There, d'ye hire, Het Game ! she dwon't drean— Attm, Trnm, hum.— I shood like ta hire er vessy wi' zum o' ye ; Mt your bad radin ood spwile her good. Out o' Books ! Alltlie chUdern goo vodth. SOLILOQUY OF BEN" -BOND, THE IDLETON. {First printed in the Graphic Illustrator.) Ben Bond was one of those sons of Idleness whom ignorance and want of occupation in a secluded coun- try village too often produce. He was a comely lad, aged sixteen, employed by Farmer Tidball, a querulous and suspifious old man, to look after a large flock of sheep. — The scene of his Soliloquy may be thus described. A green sunny bank, on which the body may agree- ably repose, called the Sea Wall ; on the sea side was an extensive common called the Waih, and adjoining SOLILOQUY. 145 to it was another called the /s?awc?, both were occasi- onally overflo-wed by the tide. On the other side of the bank were rich enclosed pastures, suitable for fat- tening the finest cattle. Into these inclosures many of Ben Bond's charge were frequently disposed to stray. The season was June, the time mid-day, and the west- ern breezes came over the sea, a short distance from which our scene lay, at once cool, grateful, refreshing, and playful. The rushing Farrei, with its ever shift- ing sands, was also heard in the distance. . It should be stated, too, that Larence is the name usually given in Somersetshire to that imaginary being which presides over the idle. Perhaps it may also be usefhl to state here that the word Idieton is more than a provincialism, and should be in our dictionaries. . During the latter part, of the Soliloquy Farmer Tidball arrives behind the bank, and hearing poor Ben's discourse with himself, interrupts his musings in the manner described hereafter. It is the history of an occurrence in real life, and at the place mentioned. The writer knew Farmer Tidball personally, and has often heard the story from his wife. SOLILOQUY " Lakence ! why doos'n let I up ? Oot let I up ?" Naw, I be sleapid, I can't let thee up eet. — " Now, La- rence ! do let I up. There ! bimeby maester'U come, au a'll beat I athin a niach o' me life ; do let I up !" — Navj I wunt. " Larence ! I bag o' ee, do ee let I, up! D'ye zee ! tha L 146 SOLILOQUY. shee-ape be 411 a breakin droo -tha hadge inta tha vive- an-twenty yacres ; an Former Haggit'U goo ta L4 wi'n, an I shell be kill'd !" — Naw I wunt — 'tis zaw whot : hezides Ihant a had my na/p out. " Larence ! I da za, thee bist a bad un ! Got thee hire what I da zS, ? Come now an let I scooce wi'. Lord a massy upon me ! Larence, whys'n thee let I up ?" G&z I wunt. What ! mum'n I hd an Iwur like wither vawh ta ate my bird an cheese ? I do zA I wunt ; and zaw 'tis niver-tha-near to keep on. " Maester tawl'd I, nif I war a good bway, a'd gee I iz awld wasket ; an I'm shower, nif a da come an vine I here, an tha shee-ape a brawk inta tha vive-an-twenty yacres, a'll vleng't aw& vust! Larence, do ee, do ee let I up ! Ool ee, do ee\"^^Naw, I tell ee I wunt. " There's one 6' tha' sheep 'pon iz back in tha gripe, an a can't turn auver:! I mis g'in ta tha groun an g'out to'n, an git'n out. There's another in tha ditch ! a'll be a huddled ! There's a gird'l o' trouble wi' shee- ape ! Larence ; cass'n thee let I goo. I'll gee thee a hd peny nif oot let me." — Naw I can't let thee goo eet. " Maester'U be shower to come apt catch me ! Larence ! doose thee hire 1 I da z4, oot let me up. I zeed Far- mer Haggit zoon 4ter I upt, an a zed, nif a voun one o' my shee-ape in tha vive-an-twenty yacres, a'd drash I za long as a cood ston auver me, an wi' a groun ash' too ! There ! Zum o'm be a gwon droo tha vive-an-twenty yacres inta tha drauve : th^'ll zoon hirn vur anow. ThS,'ll be poun'd. Larence ! I'll gee thee a penny nif oot let I up." Naw I wunt. " Tliio not sheep ha got tha shab ! Dame tawl'd I SOLILOQUY. ■ 14i7 •fthxax T upt ta-da ta mine tha shab-wdter; I sholl pick it in whun I da goo "whim. I vorgot it ! Maester war desperd cross, an I war glad ta git out o' tha langth •o' iz tongue. I da hate zitch cross vawk ! Larence ! ■what, oot niver let I up ? There ! zum o' tha shee-ape be gwon into Leek-beds ; an zum o'm be in Hounlake ; dree or vour o'm be gwon zk vur as Slow-wd ; the ditches be, menny o'm za dry 'tis all now range! common ! There ! I'll gee thee d/ree hd pence ta let 1 goo." Why, thee hass'n bin here am hour, cm vor what ■shood I let thee goo % I da zd, lie still 1 " iLarenoe ! why doos'n let I up ? There ! zim ta I, I da hire thic pirty maid, Fanny o' Primmer Hill, a chidin bra I be a lyin here while tha shee-ape be gwain droo thic shord an tuther shord ; zum o'm, a-mS,-be, be a drown'd ! Larence ; doose thee thenk I can bear tha betwitten o' thic pirty maid ? She, tha Primrawse o' Primmer-hill ; tha Lily o' tha level ; tha gawl-cup o' tha mead; tha zweetist honeyzuckle in tha garden; tha yarly vUet ; tha rawse o' rawses ; tha pirty pollyantice ! Whun I seed er last, she zed, " Ben, do ee mind tha shee-ape, an tha yeos an lams, an than zumbody ool mine you." Wi' that she gid me a beautiful spreg o' jessar my, jist a pickt vrom tha poorch, — tha smill war za zweet. " Larence ! I mus goo ! I ool goo. You mus let I up. I out st4 here na longer ! Maester'll be shower ta come an drash me. There, Larence ! I'll gee tuther p&rmy, an that's ivry vard'n I a "got. Oot let I goo ? " Now, I mis ha a penny moor. " Larence ! do let I up ! Creeplin Philip '11 be 148 ■ SOLILOQUY. shower ta catch, me ! Thic cockygee ! I dwont like en at 411 ; ; a's za rough an za zoiir. . An Will Popham too, ta betwite me about tha maid : a cill'd er a rathe- ripe Lady-hvddick. I dwont mislike tha name at aU, thawf 1 dwont care vor'n a stra, nor a read mooate ; nor tha tite o' a pin ! What da thd call lie 1 Why, tha uprigM man, cas a da ston upright ; let'n ; an let'n wrassly too : I dwont like zitch . hoss-plds, nor singel- sticlc nuther ; nor cock-squailin' ; nor menny wither m&-games that Will Popham da voUy. , I'd rather zit in tha poorch, wi' tha jessamy ranglin roun it, and hire Fanny zeng. Oot let I up, Larence?" — Naw, I tell ee I ont athout a penny moor. " JRawzey Pink, too, an Nanny Dubby axed I about Fanny. What bisniss ad tha ta up wi't 1 I dwont like nom 'om 1 Oirnin Jan too shawed iz teeth an put in his verdi. — I wish theeaze vawk ood mine ther awn consarns an let I an Fanny alooane. " Larence ! doose thee mean to let I goo ?" — Eese, nifthee't gee me tuther penny. — "Why I han't a got a vard'n moor; oot let I up !" — Not athout ilia penny. — " Now Larence ! doo ee, bin I hant naw moor money. I a bin here moor than an hoiir ; whaur tha yeos an lams an Ml tha tuthermy sheep be now I dwon' know. — Greeplin Philip* ool gee nie a lirropin shower anow ! * Even remote districts in the country have their satirists, and would-be-wits ; and HuntspiE, the place alluded to in the Solilo- quy, was, about half a century ago, much pestered with them. Scarcely a person of any note escaped a pariah libel, and even servants were not excepted. For instance ; — SOLILOQUY. 149 There ! — I da thenk I hired zummet or zumbody auver tha wan."— ■' Here, d — n thee t I'll gee tha tuther penny, an zummet besides !'' exclaimed Farmer Tidball, leaping down the bank, with a stout sliver of a crab-tree in his hand. — The sequel may be easily imagined. Nanny Dubby, Sally Clink, Long Josias an Rawsy Pink, Gimiu Jan, Creeplin Philip and the upright man. Creeplin Philip, (that is "creeplin," because he walked lamely,) was Farmer Tidball himself ; and his servant, William Popham, was the vpright man. . Gimin Jan is Grinning John. 150 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON SOME OF THE ANGtO-SAXOK PEONOtmS. BY JAMES JENNINGS. [From, tJie Graphic Illustrafor.) No. I. — I, IC, ICH, ICHE, UTCHT, ISE, c', GH', CHE ch'am, ch'ui), ch'll. Until recently few writers on the Bnglisli Language, have devoted much attention to the origin of our first personal pronoun I, concluding perhaps that it would be sufficient to state that it is derived from the Anglo- Saxon ic. No pains seem to have been taken to ex- plain the connexion which ic, ich, and iche have with Ise, c', ch', che', and their combinations in such words as cJi'cmi, cKud, ch'ill, &c. Hence we have been led to believe that such contractions are the vulgar corrup- tions of an ignorant and, consequently, unlettered peo- ple. That the great portion of the early Anglo-Saxons were an unlettered people, and that the ruraZ popula- tion were particularly unlettered, and hence for the most part ignorant, we may readily admit ; and even at the present time, many districts in the west will be found pretty amply besprinkled with that unlettered ignorance for which many of our forefathers were dis- THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 151 tinguished. But an enquiry into the origin and use of our provincial words ■will prove, that even our unlet- tered population have been guided by certain rules in their use of an energetic language. Hence it will be seen on inquiry that many of the ■words supposed to be vulgarisms, and vulgar and capricious contractions are no more so than many of our own ■words in daily use ; as to the Anglo-Saxon contractions of ch'am, ch'ud, and ch'ill, they will be found equally consistent ■with our own common contractions of can't, won't, he'll, you'll, (fee, &c. in our present polished dialect. Whether, however, our western dialects ■will be more dignified by an Anglo-Saxon pedigree I do not know ; those ■who delight in tracing descents through a long line of ancestors up to one primitive original ought to be pleased with the literary genealogist, who demonstrates that many of our provincial -words and contractions have an origin more remote, and in their estimation of course, must be more legitimate than a mere slip from the parent stock,, as our personal pro- noun, I, unquestionably is. As to the term " barbarous," Mr. Horace Smith, the a,uthor of " Walter Colyton," assures me that many of his friends call what he has introduced of the Somerset. Dia- lect in Walter Colyton, " barbarous." — Now, I should like to learn in what its barbarity consists. The plain truth after all is, that those -who are unwilling to take the trouble to understand any language, or any dialect of any language, ■with which theyare previously unacquain- ted, generally consider such ne-w language or such dia- lect barbarous ; and to them it doubtless appears so. 152 TWO DISSERTATION'S ON What induces our metropolitan literati, those at Ifast who are, or aifect to be the arbitri degantiarum&mnwg them, to consider the Scotch dialect in another li^ht ? Simply because such able writers, as Allan Ramsay, Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, and others, have chosen to employ it for the expression of their thoughts. Let similar able wi-iters employ our Western Dialect in a similar way, and I doubt not the result. And why should not our Western dialects be so employed ? If novelty and amusement, to say the least for such wri- tings, be advantageous to our literature, surely novelty and amusement might be conveyed in the dialect of the , West as well as of the North. Besides these advantages, it cannot be improper to observe that occasional visits to the well-heads of our language, (and many of these will be found in the West of England) will add to the perfection of our polished idiom itself. The West may be considered the last strong hold of the Anglo-Saxon in this country. I observed, in very early life, that some of my father's servants, who were natives of the Southern parts of the county of Somerset, almost invariably em- ployed the word utchy for I. Subsequent reflection convinced me that this word, utchy, was the Anglo- Saxon iche, used as a dissyllable ichh, as the Westpha- lians, (descendants of the Anglo-Saxons,) down to this day in their Low German (Westphalian) dialect say, " Ikke" for " ich." How or when this change in the pronunciation of the word, from one to two syllables, took place in in this country it is difficult to deter- mine; but on reference to the works of Clwucer, there THE ANGLO-SAXON PKONOUNS. 153 is, I think, reason to conclude that iche is used some- times in that goet's works as a dissyllable. Having discovered that utchi/ was the Anglo-Saxon icJie, there was no difficulty in appropriating 'che, 'c', and cA' to the same root ; hence, as far as concerned iche in its literal sounds, a good deal seemed unravelled ; but how could we account for ise, and ees, used so com- monly for I in the western parts of Somersetshire, as well as ia Devonshire ? In the first folio edition of the works of Shakspeare the ch is printed, in one instance, with a mark of elision before it thus, 'ch, a proof that the / in iohe was sometimes dropped in a common and rapid pronunciation ; and a proof too, that, we, the descendaiits of the Anglo-Saxons, have chosen the initial letter only of that pronoun, which initial letter the Anglo-Saxons had in very many instances discarded ! It is singular enough that Shakspeare has the 'ch for iche, I, and ise, for I, within the distance of a few lines, in King^ Lear, Act IV. scene 6. But perhaps not more singular than that, in Somersetshire at the present time, may be heard for the pronoun I, utchy or vchi, 'ch, and ise. To the absence originally of general literary information, and to the very recent rise of the study of grammatical analysis, are these anomalies and irregularities to be attributed. "We see, therefore, that 'ch'ud, ch'cmi, and 'ch'ill, are simply the Anglo-Saxon ich, contracted and combined with the respective verbs would, am, and will ; that the V and 'cA', as quoted in the lines given by Miss Ham, are contracts for the Anglo-Saxon iche or /, and nothing else. 154 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON It may be also observed, that in more than one mo- dern work containing specimens of the dialect of Scot- land and the North of England, and in, I believe, some of Sir Walter Scott's novels, the word ise is employed, so that the auxiliary verb mil or shall is designed to be included in that word 4 and the printing or it thus, I'se, indicates that it is so designed to be employed. Now, if this be a copy of the living dialect of Scotlajid (which I beg leave respectfully to doubt), it is a " barbarism" which the Somerset dialect does not possess. The ise in the west is simply a pronoun and nothing else ; it is, however, often accompanied by a contracted verb, as ise'll for I will. In concluding these observations on the first per- sonal pronoun it may be added, that the object of the writer has been to state facts, without the accompani- ment of that learning which is by some persons deemed so essential in inquiries of this kind. The best learn- ing is that which conveys to us a knowledge of facts. Should any one be disposed to convince himself of the correctness of the data here laid before him, by re- searches among our old authors, as well as from living in the west, there is no doubt as to the result to which he must come. Perhaps, however, it may be useful to quote one or two specimens of our more early Anglo- Saxon, to prove their analogy to the]present dialect in Somersetshire. The first speoimenj is from Rohevt of Gloucester, who lived in the time of Henry II., that is, towards the lat- ter end of the twelfth century ; it is- quoted by Drayton, in the notes to his Pulyolbion, song xvii. THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 155 " The meste wo that here vel bi King Henry's days, In this lond, icholle beginne to tell yuf ich may." Vel, for fell, the preterite of to fall, is precisely the sound given to the same word at the present time in Somersetshire. We see that icholle, for I shall, follows the same rule as the contracts 'cKud, 'eKam, and 'ch'ill. It is very remarkable that s?ioll, for shall, is almost in- variably employed in Somersetshire, at the present time. 7ufJ. am disposed to consider a corruption or mistake for gyf{g^'y^)y that is, if, the meaning and origin of which have been long ago settled by Home Tooke in his, Purley. The next specimen is assuredly of a much more mo- dem date ; thouigh quoted by Mr Dihdin, in his Metri- cal History of England, as from an old ballad. " Ch'Ul tell thee what, good fellow. Before the vriars went hence, A bushel of the best wheate Was zold for vourteen pence, And vorty eggea a penny, That were both good and new. And this che say myself have seeue. And yet I am no Jew." "With a very few alterations, iiideed, these lines would become the South Somerset of the present day. 156 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON No. II. — EB, EN, A — IT HET — THEEAZE, THEEAZAM, THIZZAM — THIC, THILK TWORDM WORDN ZINO. There are in Somersetshire (besides that particular portion, in the southern parts of the country in which the Anglo-Saxon iche or utchy and its contracts prevail) Vwo distinct and very different dialects, the boundaries of which are strongly marked by the River Parret. To the east and north of that river, and of the town of Bridge water, a dialect is used which is essentially, (even now) the dialect of all tlie peasantry of not only that part of Somersetshire, but of Dorsetshire, Wilt- shire, Gloucestershire, Hampshire, Surrey, Sussex,, and Kent ; and even in the suburban village of Lewisham, will be found many striking remains of it. There can be no doubt that this dialect was some centuries ago the language of the inhabitants of all the south and of much of the west portion of our island ; but it is in its greatest pwity* and most abundant in the county of Somerset. * Among other innumerable proofs that Somersetshire is one of the strongholds of our old Anglo-Saxon, are the sounds which are there generally given .jto the vowels A and E. A has, for the most part, the same sound as we give to that letter in the viot A. father in our polished dialect : in the words tail, c§,ll, bail, and vfiU (fall), &c., it is thus pronounced. The E has the sound which we give in our polished dialect to the a in pane, cane, &c., both which sounds, it may be observed, are even now given to these letters on the Continent, in very many THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 157 , No sooner, however, do we cross the Pa/rret and proceed from Qombwich* to Catmington (three; miles from Bridgewater) than another dialect becomes strikingly apparent. Here we have no more of the zeesi the hires, the veels, and the walks, and a numerous et csetera, which we find in the eastern portion of the county, in the third person singular of the verbs, but instead we have he zeeth, he sees, he veeVth, he feels, he walKth, h.B walks, and so on. through the whole range of the similar part of every verb. This is of itself a strong and distinguishing characteristic ; but this dialect has many more ; one is the very different sounds given to almost every word which is employed, and which thus strongly characterize the persons who use them.t ■ Another is that er for he in the nominative case is most commonly employed ; thus for, he said he would not, is used Er zad er ood!n — Er ont goor, for, he will not go, &c. Again ise or ees, for I is also common. Many other places, particularly in Holland and in Germany. The name of Dr. Gall, the founder of the science of phrenology, is pro- nounced asm, as we of the west pronounce t^ll, ball, &c. * Pronounced Cummidge. We here see the disposition in our language to convert imch into idge ; as DulwicJi and Greenwich often pronounced by the vulgar Dullidge, Greenidge. f I cannot pretend to account for this very singular and marked distinction in our western dialects ; the fact, however, is so ; and it may be added, too, that there can be no doubt both these dialects are the children of our Anglo-Saxon parent. 158 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON peculiarities and con-tractions in tMs dialect are to a stranger not a little puzzling ; and if we proceed so far westward as the confines of Exmoor, they are, to a plain Englishman, very often unintelligible. Reft or rather hare is most always used instead of the nominative «Ae. Hour' A a doo'd it, she has done it ; Ha/re zad hard do't. She said she would do it. This dialect pervades, npt only the western powtion of Somersetshire, but the whole of Devonshire. As my observations in these papers apply chiefly to the dialect east of the Parret, it is not necessary to proceed further in our present loouirse ; yet as er is also occasionally used instead of A« in that dialect it becomes useful to point out its different application in the two portions of the county. In the eastern part it is used very rarely if ever in the beginning of sentences ; but frequently thus : A did, did er ? He did, did he ? Wordn er gwain ? Was he not going ? Ool er goo ? will he go ? We may here advert to the common corruption, I suppose I must call it, of a for he used so generally in the west. As a zed a'd do it for, he said he would do it. Shakespeare has given this form of the pronoun in the speeches of many of his low characters which, of course, strikingly demonstrates its then very general use among the vulgar ; but it is in his works usually printed with a comma thus 'a, to show, probably that it is a corrupt enunciation of he. This comma is, however, very likely an addition by some editor. Another form of the third personal pronoun employed only in the objective case is found in the THK ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 159 ■west, namely en for him, as a zid en or, rather more commonly, a zid'n, he saw him. Many cases however, occur in. which en is fully heard ; as gee I to en, give it to him. It is remarkable that Congreve, in his comedy oi^^ Love for Love," has given to Ben the Sailor in that piece many expressions found in the west. " Thof he be my father I an't bound prentice to en." It should be noted here that he he is rarely if ever heard in the west, but Ae's or he is. We he, you he, and th& he are nevertheless very common. Er, employed as above, is beyond question aboriginal Saxon ; en has been probably adopted as being more euphonious than him* Eet for it is still also common amongst the peasantry. * I have not met with en for him in any of our more early ■writers ; and I am therefore disposed to consider it as of com- paratively modem introduction, and one among the very few changes in language introduced by the yeomanry, a class of persons less disposed to changes of any kind than any other in society, arising, doubtless, from their isolated position. It must be admitted, nevertheless, that this change if occasionally adopted in our polished dialect would afford an agreeable variety by no means unmusical. In conversation with a very learned Grecian on this subject, he seemed to consider because the learned are constantly, and sometimes very capriciously, introducing nete words into our language, that such words as en might be introduced for similar reasons, namely, mere fancy or caprice ; on this subject I greatly differ from him : our aboriginal Saxon population has never corrupted our language nor destroyed its energetic character half so much as the mere classical scholar. Hence the necessity, in order to a complete knowledge of our mother tongue, that we should study the Anglo-Saxon still found in the provinces. 160 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON In early Saxon writers, it was usually written hit, sometimes hyt. " Als hit in heaven y-doe, Evar in yearth beene it also." Metrical Lord's Prayer of 1\%0. Of theeaze, used as a demonstrative pronoun, both in the singular and plural, for this and these, it maybe observed, as well as of the pronunciation of many other words in the west, that we have no letters or combina- tion of letters which express exactly the sounds there given to such words. Theeaze is here marked as a dissyllable, but although it is sometimes decidedly two syllables, its sounds are not always thus apparent in Somerset enunciation. What is more remarkable in this world, is its equal application to the singular and the plural. . Thus we say theeaze man and theaze men. But in the plural are also employed other forms of the same pronoun, namely theeazam, theeazainy and thizzum. This last word is, of course, decidedly the Anglo-Saxon Sippum. In the west we say therefore theeazam here, theeazamy here, and thizzam here for these, or these here ; and sometimes without the pleonastic and unnecessary here. For the demonstrative those of our polished dialect them, or themmy, and often them there or tliemmy there are the usual synonyms ; as, gee I themmy there shoes ; that is, give me those shoes. The objective pronoun me, is very sparingly employed indeed — I, in general supplying its place as in the preceding sentence : to this barbarism in the name of my native dialect, I must THK ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 161 plead guUty ! — if barbarism our metropolitan critics shall be pleased to term it.* Thic is in tbe Somersetshire dialect (namely that to which I have particularly directed my attention and which prevails on the east side of the Parret) invariably employed for that. Thic house, that house ; tMc mem, that man : in the west of the county it is thihy, or thecky. Sometimes thic has the force and meaning of a personal pronoun, as : Catch and scrabble Thic tliat'a yable. — Catch and scramble He who's able. Again, thic that dont like it mid leave it, — he who does not like it may leave it. It should be noted that th in all the pronouns above mentioned has the obtuse sound as heard in then * By the way I must just retort upon our polished dialect, that it has gone over to the other extreme in avoidance of the I, using me in many sentences where I ought most decidedly to he employed. It was me § is constantly dinned in our ears for it was I : as well as indeed one word more, although not a pronoun, this is, the almost constant use in London of the verb to lay for the verb to lie, and ketch for catch. If we at head-quarters commit such blunders can we wonder at our provincial detachments falling into simUar errors ? none certainly more gross than this ! § I am aware that-some of our lexicographers have attempted a defence of this solecism by deriving it from the French c'est mm ; but, I think it is from their affected dislike of direct egotism ; and that, whenever they can, they avoid the I in order that they might not be thought at once vulgar and egotistic ! 162 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON and this and not the thin sound as heard in both, thin, and many other words of our polished dialect. Chaucer employed the pronoun thic very often, but he spells it thUk; he does not appear, however, to have always restricted it to the meaning implied in our that and to the present Somerset thic. Spenser has also employed thilk in his Shepherd's Calendar several times. " Seest not thUh game hawthorn stud How bragly it begins to bud And utter his tender head ?" " Our blanket leveries been all too sad For thUk same season, when aU is yclad With pleasance." I cannot conclude yrithout a few observations on three very remarkable Somersetshire words, namely twordn, wordn, and sAno. They are living evidences of the contractions with which that dialect very much abounds. Twordn means it was not ; and is composed of three words, namely it, wor, and not ; wor is the past tense, or, as it is sometimes called, the preterite of the verb to fee, in the third person singular;* and such is the indistinctness with which the sound of the vowel in were is commonly expressed in Somersetshire, that wor, wer, or wa/r, will nearly alike convey it, the sound of the e being rarely if ever long ; twordn is therefore * It should be observed here that was is rather uncommon among the Somersetshire peasantry — wor, or war, being there the synonyms ; thus Spenser in his " Sliepherd's Calendar." " The kid,— Asked the cause of his great distress. And also who and whence that he wer THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 163 composed, as stated, of three words ; but it will be asked what lyLsiness has the c2 in it 2 To this it may be replied that d and t are, as is well known, often converted in our language the one into the other ; but by far the most frequently d is converted into i. Here, however, the t is not only converted into d, but instead of being placed after n, as analogy requires thus, twwnt, it is placed before it for euphony I dare say. Such is the analysis of this singular and, if not euphonious, most certainly expressive word. Wordn admits of a similar explanation ; but this word is composed of two words only, wor and not ; instead of worvt, which analogy requires, a (f is placed before n for a similar reason that the cf is placed before H in twordM, namely for euphony ; wordn is decidedly another of the forcible words. Wordn er gwcdtt, ! — was he not going, may compete with any language for its energetic brevity. Zino, has the force and application of an interjection, and has sufficient of the ore rotunda to appear a classical dissyllable ; its origin is, however, simply the contract of, as I know, and it is usually preceeded in Somerset- shire by no. Thus, ool er do Wi no, zmo ! T thawt a oodn. Will he do it ? no, as 1 know ! I thought he would not These words, Twordn, Wordn, and Zino, may be thus exemplified : You say he was there, and I say that a wordn ; . You say that 'twas he, and I tell you that twordn ; You ask, will he go ? I reply, not as I know ; You say that he viiU, and / must say, no, Zino ! 164 CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS. I cannot, perhaps, better close this work, than by- presenting to the reader the observations of Miss Ham, (a Somersetshire lady of no mean talents), in a letter to me on these dialects. The lines, of which I desired a copy, contain an ex- emplification of the vise of utchy or icM, used contrac- tedly [see TJtcht in the Glossary] by the inhabitants of the South of Somersetshire, one of the strongholds, as I conceive, of the Anglo-Saxon dialect. In our polished dialect, the lines quoted by Miss Ham, may be thus rendered — Bread and cheese I have had, What I had I have eaten, More I would [have eaten if] I had [had] it. If the contradictions be supplied they will stand thus : — Bread and cheese icM have a had That ich^ had ich^ have a eat More ich^ would icM had it. CurTOisr, Jan. 30, 1825. Sir; I have certainly great pleasure in comply- ing with your request, although I fear that any com- THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 163 munication it is in my power to make, will be of little use to you in your curious work on the West Country dialect. The lines you desire are these : Bread and cheese 'c' have a had, That 'o' had 'c' have a eat, More 'ch wou'd 'o' had it. Sounds which, from association no doubt, carry with them to my ear the idea of great vulgarity : but which might have a very different effect on that of an unpre- judiced hearer, when dignified by an Anglo-Saxon pedigree. The Scotch dialect, now become quite classical with, ug, might, perhaps, labour under the same disadvantage amongst those who hear it spoken by the vulgar only. Although I am a native of Somersetshire, I have re.sided very Kttle in that county since my chUdhood, and, in my occasional visits since, have had little intercourse with the aborigines. I recollect, however, two or three words, which you might not, perhaps, have met with. One of them of which I have tradi- tionary knowledge, being, I believe, now quite obsolete, Pitisanquint was used in reply to an inquiry after the health of a person, and was, I understand, equiva- lent to pretty well, or so so. The word La/miger, which signifies an invalid, I have no doubt you have met with. When any one forbodes bad weather, or any disaster, it is very common to say Dotit ye hoiisenee. Here you have the verbal termination, which you remarked was so common in the West, and which I cannot help thinking might have been originally used 166 CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS ON as a sort of diminutive, and that to milkee, signified to milk a Uttle. As my knowledge of these few words is merely oral, I cannot answer for the orthography ; I have en- deavoured to go as near the sound as possible, and I only wish it were in my power to make some commu- nication more worth your attention. As it is, I have only my best wishes to oflFer for the success of your truly ■ original work. I am, Sir, your most obedient, Elizabeth Ham. I have only one or two remarks to add to those of Miss Ham in the preceding letter. It will be seen, by reference to the exemplifications of the dialect, that occasional pleonasm, will be found in it, as well as, very often, extraordinary contraction. I heme adone, I have a had, are examples of the first j and 'tword'n, g'up, g' under, 'banehond, &c. [see Bane- HOND, in the Glosscm/] are examples of the last. Pitisanquint appears to me to be simply a contracted and corrupted mode of expressing Piteoios and qiudnt, [See PiTis in the Ghssa/ry.] Don't ye houseenee is Do not stay in your houses. But the implied meaning is, he active ; do your best to provide for the bad weather which portends. In Somersetshire, most of the colloquial and idiomatic expressions have more or less relation to agriculture, agricultural occupations, or to the most common con- THE ANGLO-SAXON PRONOUNS. 167 cems of life, hence such expressions have, in process of time, become figurative. Thus, don't ye housenee, ■would be FeadUy applied to rouse a person to activity, in order that he may prevent or obviate any approach- ing or portending evil. I am still of opinion ; indeed I may say, I am quite sure, that the verbal terminations, sewy, knitty, &c., have no relation to diminution in the district East of the Parret. Upon the whole, it is evident that considerable care and circumspection are necessary in committing to paper the signs of the sounds of a language, of which we have no accredited examples, nor established cri- terion. In making collections of this work, I have not failed to bear this constantly in mind. London : S. & J. Beaws, Printers, 13, Princes St., Little Queen St., Holborn, W.C.