Th’ faander o’th’ Church is sed to be one Wang be Wang, one o’th’ Empros o’ China as com ower in a balloon an browt wi’ him all his relations but his grandmuther. Th’ natives at that toime wur a mack a wild; but i’ mixing up wi’ th’ balloonites thay soin becum civilized and bigd th’ Church at’s studden fra that toime to nah, wi’th’ exepshun o’ one end, destroyed at sum toime, sum sez it wur be war. Some sez West End an th’ Saath End wur destroyed, but its a mack a settled on by th’ wiseuns it wur witchcraft; but be it as it may, Haworth an th’ foak a’ together is as toff as paps, an hez stud aat weel, an no daht but it wod a flerished before Lundun, Parris, or Jerusalem, for centries back, if they hed a Railway, but after nearly all Grate Britten an’ France
had been furnished wi’ a railway, th’ people i’ Haworth began to feel uneazy an’ felt inclined no longer to wauk several miles to get to a stashun if they wur baan off like. An’ besides, they thout it were high time to begin an’ mak sum progress i’ th’ world, like their naburs i’ th’ valley. So they ajetated fer a line daan th’ valley as far as Keighla, an’ after abaat a hundred meettings they gat an Akt past for it i’ Parliament. So at last a Cummittee wur formed, an’ they met one neet o’ purpose ta decide wen it wod be th’ moast convenient for ’em ta dig th’ first sod ta commemorate an’ start th’ gurt event. An’ a bonny rumpus thur wur, yo’ mind, for yo’ ma’ think ha it wur conducted when thay wur threapin’ wi’ one another like a lot a oud wimen at a parish pump, wen it sud be. One sed it mud tak place at rush-buren, another sed next muck-spreadin’ toime, a third sed it mud be dug et gert wind day it memmery o’ oud Jack K--- Well, noan et proposishuns wud do fur the lot, and there wur such opposishun wal it omust hung on a thre’ad whether th’ railway went on or net, wal at last an oud farmer, one o’th’ committee men, wi’ a voice as hoarse as a farm yard dog, bawls aat, “I propoase Pancake Tuesday.” So after a little more noise it wur propoased an’ seconded et Grand Trunk Railway between th’ respective taans of Keighla an’ Haworth sud be commemorated wi’ diggin’ th’ furst sod ’o Pancake Tuesday i’th’ year o’ our Lord 1864; an’ bi th’ show o’ hands i’th’ usual way it wur carried bi one, and that wur Ginger Jabus, an’ th’ tother cud a liked to a bowt him ower, but Jabus wornt to be bowt that time, for he hed his heart an’ sowl i’th’ muvment, an he went abaat singing—
Come all ye lads o’ high renown
’At wishes well your native town,
Rowl up an’ put your money down
And let us hev a Railway.
Wi’ Keighla foak we are behind,
An’s hed to wauk agin wur mind;
But soin th’ crookt-legg’d ens thay will find
We’ll keep em wi’ a Railway.
Well, hasumever, public notice wur made nawn, bi th’ bellman crying it all ower th’ tawn, which he did to such a pitch wal he’d summat to do to keep his hat fra flying off, but he managed to do it at last to a nicety, for th’ news spread like sparks aat of a bakehouse chimla; an’ wen th’ day come they flockt in fra all parts, sum o’th crookt-legg’d ens fra Keighla com, Lockertown and th’ Owertown foak com, and oud bachelors fra Stanbury and all parts at continent o’ Haworth; foak craaded in on all sides, even th’ oud men an’ wimen fra Wicken Crag an’ th’ Flappeters, an’ strappin’ foak they are yo mind, sum as fat as pigs, wi’ heeads as red as carrits, an’ nimble as a india-rubber bouncer taw; an’ wat wur th’ best on’t it happened to be a fine day; or if it hed been made accordin’ to orders it cudent a been finer. Shops wur all closed, an’ everybody, oud an’ young hed a haliday aat o’th’ doors, for they were all flade o’ missin’ th’ Grand Proceshun, which formed itseln at th’ top o’ Wuthren, when it wur messured it turned aat to be two miles six inches long—it moved as follows:—
ORDER O’TH’ PROCESHUN.
Th’ Spring heead Band wi’ thair hat bruads turned up so as they mud se thair way clear,
Lord o’th’ Manor i’ full uniform a fut back bearin’ th’ Coat of Arms for Haworth a gert wild cratur wi’ two tails on, one o’ th’ authur end.
Th’ Members o’th’ Corporashun one abreast, singin’ “a nuttin’ we will go, brave boys.”
Big Drums an’ Triangles.