Jane Joins Th’ Party.

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Jane Joins Th’ Party (December 1939) by Sal Tregenna.

Well, ne deers, this is to tell’ee zum more ’bout our zawin’ mitting like I promised ‘ee,  an’ ’bout Jane takin’ a ‘and in it! Like I tould ‘e avore, ‘er was mazed as a curley to think ‘er’d a missed it, when us wuz all tellin’ wot a gran’ time us ‘ad ‘ad to th’ vust mittin’, no th’ zecond week Jane cum in jist avore denner to tell me ‘er wuz gain, an’ ‘er’d call vur me. Coarse, I knawed ‘er aunly wanted me to go down wi’ ‘er to braak th’ hice, ez th’ zayin’ iz. ‘Bout quarter to two ‘er wuz cum bussellin’ in, an’ a purty ole toff ‘er wuz in ‘er way. Pore ole Jane ‘er got brave big noshuns, but ‘er han’t got th’ nick o’ cartin’ ’em out vitty, zo it cums to a brave ole kick-shaw in th’ mind o’t! I wish you could hev zeed ‘er wi’ ‘er raid jumper, violet skert, an’ green ‘at wi’ th’ orringe rozes roun’ un. Then ‘er’d a’got a blew coat, an’ yellah kid gloves, an’ a brown humberella wi’ a duck’s haid handel! Whare in th’ diggens ‘er’d a’raked it all up vrom iz more’n I can tell, but ‘er looked a brave ole spectikle, I can tell’ee, an’ I ‘ad a mine to ax ‘er if ‘er’d a’bin to a jumble zale! ‘Owzumever, us got down there, an’ us wuz shawed into th’ dinin’ rume, an’ us wuz shawed into th’ dinin’ rume, an’ th’ knitten’ wuz all gived out. Us all ‘ad our names on our work, zo there wadden no chaitin’ over’t! All this time Jane wuz perked ‘pon th’ edge o’ a cheer, twiddlin’ wi’ th’ handel o’ ‘er humberella, an’ makin’ th’ moast o’ ‘erzel! Then Missus Jones axed ‘er wot ‘er’d like to do, an’ shawed ‘er th’ two patterns us ‘ad to work ‘pon. An’ a purty ole conflopshun there wuz to git ‘er sterted. I’ll warn that, be th’ time ‘er’d a’drawed down ‘er ole humberella an’ vouched ‘pon un, an’ got ‘er veet all tangled up wi’ ‘er wool an’ th’ handel o’ ‘er humberella! I dunno wot would hev ‘appened if Miss Mary ‘ad’n soarted it out, an’ carr’ed th’ bloomin’ humberella outside th’ dore! At las’ ‘er manidged to git th’ wool straitened out, an’ Miss Mary gi’ed ‘er th’ niddles, an’ th’ paper, tellin’ ‘er wot to do. I dedden ‘appen to be zettin’ near ‘er, else I might hev kipt ‘er vroom makin’ zitch an’ ole vule o’ ‘erzel’, tho’ I should hev ‘ad a brave job, vur when Jane’s once zet there’s no doin’ nort long wi’ ‘er! Everybody wuz glarin’ to ‘er, an’ everybody wuz grizzlin’, vur Jane wuz ’bout ez ‘andy wi’ they niddles ez a cow wi’ a musket! At las’ poze ole Missus Pinch gi’ed ‘er a dig an’ tould ‘er ‘er’d make a bedder job o’t if ‘er tooked off ‘er gloves! Li’l ole Miss Scott wuz zettin’ bezide me. ‘Er’s a dress-maker be trade an’ terrible prim an’ proper. “I’m ‘fraid th’ warr’ll be over be th’ time Missus Treloar hev knit thikky pare o’ stockin’s!” ‘er whispers to me.

Th’ las’ mittin’ us waint to us sterted zawin’. When I waint in th’ vust thing I zeed wuz two zawin’-masheens vixed up on a long table in th’ winder, an’ a lot o’ white flannelettes all reddy cut out to make sherts an’ night-sherts, an’ trade. Missus Jones axed Miss Scott to take cherge o’ one masheen, an’ ‘er zed me an’ Miss Scott be bizzy makin’ sherts vur th’ pore sojers now. Jane wadden terable well plaized to think ‘er wadden axed to take on. “Enny vule can tern a handel,” ‘er zes to me arterwurds. “An’ I think us should take terns.” “Well, Jane,” zes I,”if you’d a’shawed zersel’ a mite more ‘andy ’bout doin’ things you might hev bin axed to ‘tern the handel,” ex you caal it! wuz wi’ yer knittin’ niddles there would’n be mutch o’n left time you’d a’vinished a shert!”

Thank’ee Miss Molly!

An’ now, avore I vanished, I wants to say, “Thank’ee, me deers!” to li’l Miss Molly Rogers, up to Haydah Varm, Week St. Mary, vur th’ luvly ledder I ‘ad las’ week! ‘Er tell me ‘er cuts out all my ole yarns an’ sticks ’em in a book. I veels very proud. Molly, to thank you considers my ole taales wu’th kippin’, an’ I promizz’ee I’ll “carry on” as long as theres vokes like you that likes to read wot I ‘rites an’ ez long as Maister Editur hev got th’ paper to print ’em! They might’n be quite zo long, but I’ll try to make ’em jist ez gude, an’ put a lot in liddle, ez th’ zayin’iz! Like th’ tailer once, who wanted a gran’ sign vur ‘is winder. There was two other tailers in the zame street, an’ they all wanted a sign to bait th’ others. Th’ vurst put up, “The’ best tailer in th’ world,” thinkin’ nobody could’n bait that” Th’ zecond put, “Th’ best tailer in this country,” But th’ therd put up, “Th’ best tailer in the street!” an’ bait ’em all! An’ tha’s offers th’ way in this world, idden it, tix th’ smaal things that count. Doant’ee vurgit that Molly, an’ yur’s thankin’ ‘ee once more, an’ wishin’ee all th’ best, an’ I ‘ope ole Vather Chresmus’ll vull yer stockin’ vit to bust!

 

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