But, hahsumivver, t’guard blew his whistle an’ off t’train started helter-skelter up bi Utley as hard as ivver it cud go. An nah for a change o’ scene!—fer t’Exley-Heeaders aght wi ther rhubub pasties an’ treacle parkins. Harry o’ Bridget’s hed a treacle parkin t’size of a pancake in his hat crahn, an’ Joe o’ owd Grace’s fra Fell Loin hed a gert bacon collop in his pocket t’size of a oven tin. Somebody remarks, “Tha’ll grease thi owd chops wi’ that, Joe.” He sed “I like a bit o’ bacon when it isn’t reezed, tha knaws, especially home-fed like this”; but just when he wor exhibitin’ it rhaand t’hoile, t’train stopp’d at Kilwick Station, fer t’maister an’ t’missis wor waitin’ to get in; so t’Turkey Mill Band struck up “We’re goin’ home to glory,” wi’ credit to both t’conductors an’ thersens. Hahsumivver, they wor forced to put double time in at t’latter end, for Puffin’ Billy started o’ screaming ageean fearfully, so all wor in t’carriages an’ off in a crack—my word, they did leg it ower hedges an’ dykes, thru valleys an’ mahutains—
“Where the wind nivver blew,
Nor a cock ivver crew,
Nor the deil sahnded
His Bugle Horn.”
I’ll assure yu, foak, it seemed varry little afoar we wor at Clapham. Why, yu can judge for yersens; when Tom o’ Twist’s gat up an’ popped his heead aght o’ t’window an’ shaated aaght “We’re at Derby already!” but it turned aght to be nowt but a coil truck wi’ “Derby” marked on it. Well, be it as it may,
we landed at Lancaster sooin, an’ some o’ t’owd maids gat aght here, but it wor nivver knawn to this day what for; hahsumivver, it hes been suspected at they wor after some watter, for ther shooin wor steepin’ wet when they com back. But yu mun knaw at after a deal o’ twistin’ an’ twinin’ they started for Windermere, but, my word, it worrant generally thowt so, for owd Nathan o’ Johnny’s an’ their Samuel, an’ owd Matty o’ Sykes’s, an’ Bob o’ t’Bog, stood it boldly ’at it wor goin’ back to Keighley, an’ wodant believe it wal they reitched Kendal; besides, ivverybody thowt at t’train wor lost, but after another start we landed at Windermere, an’ nearly all t’passengers wor fair capp’d, for they thowt for sewer at t’injun hed been flaid wi’ summat.
But, hod yer din, says Railway Tim,
As it is varry clear,
At t’injun’s reight an’ landed streight,
For this is Windermere.
So, i’ landing, ivverbody seemed quite startled wi’ t’appearance o’ t’place. “Well, if ivver, I’m fair capp’d!’, sed owd Maude o’ Peter’s, “it’s t’nicest spot I ivver saw wi’ mi een, an’ I sall say so to mi deein’ day. It looks like a paradise! I’ve seen mony a nice place i’ mi life-time, both dreamin’ an’ wakin’, but this licks all! What wi’ t’grand black marble houses an’ t’roses growin’ up at t’front, it’s ommost like bein’ i’ Heaven.” But nobody cud hear aboon t’toan hauf o’ what wor said cos t’bands wor playin’ as hard as ivver they cud an’ t’foak wor all in a bussle, for—
Miss Hob an’ Miss Jonas tuke a cab dahn to Bowness,
An’ mind yu, they luk’d fearful grand;
An’ when they gat theer they tuke fer Grassmere,
Like two o’ t’first ladies i’ t’land.
Miss Walsh an’ Miss Roddy an’ another young body,
Bethowt ’em ’at it wod be t’best,
To tak a fine boat an’ just hev a float
Dahn the lake as far as Dove’s Nest.
Says Miss Nelly Holmes, “as I’ve left off mi looms
I’ll show at I’m summat better;
An’ I’ll go ta Low Wood, it might do ma good,
An’ sport both on t’land an’ on t’watter.”
Hahsumivver, Miss Martha Smith fra Utley, an owd maid, an’ Jenny Hodgson, an’ Ann Shack, an’ abaght nineteen other owd maids, bethowt ’em they’d hev some teah, for there wor a paper stuck i’ ivvery window wi’ “Hot water sold here,” as an inscription. So they went in an’ bargain’d for it, an’ ax’d what it wor a piece fer hot waiter. “Tuppence a piece,” says t’Missis. “Tuppence a piece!” exclaim’d t’dollop of ’em, “we can get it at owd Matty Wreet’s fer a penny a week. It’s a burning shame, but let’s hev a bucket
a piece.”