on 2/3/02 5:28 pm, Arthur at [log in to unmask] wrote:



Blimey Arthur, this one's a bit thick.
Sally ee
> Tales at my Mother's Knee #3
>
>
> Ah wu, niver cut aht fuh t' job in't fust place,
> he sed, burah needed t'wuk
> an' ah cud 'andil 'osses
> an' ah figgered milk or coffins its same 'osses,
> so ah tuk the job, fur a cupple of wiks onyroad.
>
> Thay call'em all sorts nah,
> funeral directors or summat lahk,
> an wus in America, ah hear,
> but back then it wah t'undertakers.
> Cookson Brothuhs at t'end o't streeat.
> 'osses wi'black plumes on thur 'eeads
> an' a luvly  'erse, all black and silver.
> Luvely way to gooah!
> Ah ed to weear a top 'at and t 'lot
> an sit theer lukkin' proper miserable and respectful,
> they even pahdered mi face white.
> Aye, ah cud 'andle 'osses wi t'best on 'em, reet enuff
> but shavin' a corpse, well, summah its not same thing.
>
> Dust knaw, he sed,
> certin things go on wukkin' aftuh tha's cocked thi clogs.
> Noah, nawther did ah till ah 'ed tuh shave Simmy.
> Yuh see thi beard gus on growin' after tha's clocked aht
> so ah 'ad to shave 'em  so they looked neat and reet
> when they wuh laid aht in thu front rooms
> an' thi stummick goes on wukkin', too, digestin' an that.
>
> Ah wuh shavin' Simmy,
> Simeon 'ardcastle, young Martin's granddad,
> but sithee say nowt, doan't goah upsettin' fowks for noah reason,
> but ah wuh shavin' 'im,
> an' that wuh queer enuff withaht owt else,
> an' 'e must ' ave et earty at 'is last meal
> cos as ah leaned on his stummick
> latherin' 'is jaw,
> he belched, reet in mi face, a reet rift,
> like a clap o'thunder,
> ah felt t'wind on it on mi hand
> a reet weird cowd breeze.
> Well, jug o lather an t'brush wuh inta wun cornah
> an' t'cut throwat inter t'other
> an' ah wuh aht a theer lahk a greyahnd out on its trap.
>
> As ah say ah ony wukkt theear a cupple a wiks.
> ah mean 'andling 'osses is one thing
> but shavin' bad-mannered corpses
> as can't say pardin is anothuh.