“It was about six an' fifty year sen, in June, when a woman cam fra' Dent at see a Nebbor of ours e' Langdon.1 They er terrible knitters e' Dent2—sea my Fadder an' Mudder sent me an' my lile Sister, Sally, back we' her at larn at knit. I was between sebben an' eight year auld, an' Sally twea year younger—T' Woman reade on ya Horse, we Sally afore her—an I on anudder, we a man walking beside me—whiles he gat up behint an' reade—Ee' them Days Fwoak dud'nt gang e' Carts—but Carts er t'best—I'd rader ride e' yan than e' onny Carriage—I us't at think if I was t' Leady, here at t' Ho,'3 how I wad tear about int' rwoads—but sen I hae ridden in a Chaise I hate t' nwotion ont' warst of ought—for t' Trees gang fleeing by o' ya side, an t' Wa' as4 on tudder, an' gars yan be as seek as a peeate.
1 The valley of Langdale, near Ambleside. The Langdale Pikes are known to all tourists.
2 Dent is a chapelry in the Parish and Union of Sedbergh, W. Division of the wapentake of Staincliffe and Ewcross, W. Riding of the County of York, sixteen miles E. from Kendal.—Lewis's Topog. Dict.
3 i.e. At the Hall.
4 Wa' as, i.e. Walls, as in p. 86.
“Weel, we dud'nt like Dent at a—' nut that they wer bad tull us—but ther way o' leeving—it was round Meal—an' they stoult it int' frying pan, e' keaeks as thick as my fing-er.—Then we wer stawed5 we' sae mickle knitting—We went to a Skeul about a mile off—ther was a Maister an' Mistress—they larnt us our Lessons, yan a piece—an' then we knit as hard as we cud drive, striving whilk cud knit t' hardest yan again anudder—we hed our Darracks6 set afore we com fra' Heam int' mwornin; an' if we dud'nt git them duun we warrant to gang to our dinners—They hed o' macks o' contrivances to larn us to knit swift—T' Maister wad wind 3 or 4 clues togedder, for 3 or 4 Bairns to knitt off—that' at knit slawest raffled tudders yarn, an' than she gat weel thumpt (but ther was baith Lasses an' Lads 'at learnt at knit)—Than we ust at sing a mack of a sang, whilk we wer at git at t'end on at every needle, ca'ing ower t' Neams of o' t' fwoak in t' Deaal—but Sally an me wad never ca' Dent Fwoak—sea we ca'ed Langdon Fwoak—T' Sang was—
Sally an' I, Sally an' I,
For a good pudding pye,
Taa hoaf wheat, an' tudder hoaf rye,
Sally an' I, for a good pudding pye.
We sang this (altering t' neams) at every needle: and when we com at t' end cried ‘off’ an' began again an' sea we strave on o' t' day through.
5 i.e. cloyed, saturated, fatigued. BROCKETT'S Glossary of North Country words.
6 i.e. Days-works. So the Derwent is called the Darron.