Part 37 (1/2)

_A MONOLOGUE,

To er Scholards_.

Commether [Footnote: Come hither.] _Billy Chubb_, an breng tha hornen book. Gee me tha vester in tha windor, you _Pal Came_!--what! be a sleepid--I'll wake ye. Now, _Billy_ there's a good bway! Ston still there, an mine what I da za to ye, an whaur I da pwint.--Now;--cris-cross, [Footnote: The _cris_, in this compound, and in _cris-cross-lain_, is very often, indeed most commonly, p.r.o.nounced _Kirs_.] girt a little a--b--c--d.--That's right _Billy_; you'll zoon lorn tha cris-cross-lain--you'll zoon auvergit Bobby Jiffry--you'll zoon be _a scholard_.--A's a pirty chubby bway--Lord love'n!

Now, _Pal Came_! you come an vessy wi' yer zister.

--There! tha forrels o' tha book be a brawk; why dwon't ye take moor care o'm?--Now, read;--_Het_ _Came!_ why d'ye drean zaw?--_hum, hum, hum_;--you da make a naise like a spinnin turn, or a dumbledore--all in one lidden--_hum, hum, hum,_--You'll niver lorn ta read well thic fas.h.i.+on.--Here, _Pal,_ read theaze vesses vor yer zister. There now, _Het,_ you mine how yerzister da read, not _hum, hum, hum._--Eese you ool, ool ye?--I tell ye, you must, or I'll rub zum rue auver yer hons:--what d'ye thenk o't!--There, be gwon you _Het,_ an dwon't ye come anuost yer zister ta vessy wi' er till you a got yer lessin moor parfit, or I'll gee zummet you on't ax me vor. _Pally,_ you tell yer Gramfer Palmer that I da za _Hetty Came_ shood lorn ta knitty; an a shood buy zum knittin nills and wusterd vor er; an a shood git er zum nills and dird, vor er to lorn to zawy too.

Now _Miss Whitin_, tha dunces be a gwon, let I hire how pirty you can read.--I always zed that Pason Tuttle's grandater ood lorn er book well.--Now, _Miss_, what ha ye a got there?

_Valentine an Orson._--A pirty storry, bit I be afeard there's naw moril to it.--What be all tha tuthermy books you a got by yer goodhussey there in tha basket? Gee's-zee-'em,[Footnote: _Let me see them_. This is a singular expression, and is thus to be a.n.a.lysed; _Give us to see them_.] nif you please, _Miss Polly_.--Tha _Zeven Champions_--_Goody Two Shoes_--_Pawems vor Infant minds_.--Theazamy here be by vur tha best.--There is a moril ta mooast o'm; an tha be pirty bezides.--Now, _Miss_, please ta read thic-- _Tha Notorious Glutton_.--_Pal Came!_ turn tha gla.s.s!

dwon't ye zee tha zond is all hirnd out;--you'll sta in school tha longer for't nif you dwon't mine it.--Now, all o' ye be quiet ta hire _Miss Whitin_ read.--There now! what d'ye za ta jitch radin as that?--There, d'ye hire, _Het Came_! she dwon't drean--_hum, hum, hum_.--I shood like ta hire er vessy wi'

zum o' ye; bit your bad radin ood spwile her good.

OUT O' BOOKS!

_All the childern goo voath_.

SOLILOQUY OF BEN BOND,

THE IDLETON.

(_First printed in the Graphic Ill.u.s.trator_.)

Ben Bond was one of those sons of Idleness whom ignorance and want of occupation in a secluded country village too often produce. He was a comely lad, aged sixteen, employed by Farmer Tidball, a querulous and suspicious old man, tto look after a large flock o sheep.--The scene of his Soliloquy may be thus described.

A green sunny bank, on which the body may agreeably repose, called the _Sea Wall_; on the sea side was an extensive common called the _Wath_, and adjoining to it was another called the Island, both were occasionally overflowed by the tide. On the other side of the bank were rich enclosed pastures, suitable for fattening the finest cattle. Into these inclosures many of Ben Bond's charge were frequently disposed to stray. The season was June, the time mid-day, and the western breezes came over the sea, a short distance from which our scene lay, at once cool, grateful, refres.h.i.+ng, and playful. The rus.h.i.+ng Parret, with its ever s.h.i.+fting sands, was also heard in the distance. It should be stated, too, that Larence is the name usually given in Somersets.h.i.+re to that imaginary being which presides over the IDLE. Perhaps it may also be useful to state here that the word Idlelon is more than a provincialism, and should be in our dictionaries.

During the latter part of the Soliloquy Farmer Tidball arrives behind the bank, and hearing poor Ben's discourse with himself, interrupts his musings in the manner described hereafter. It is the history of an occurrence in real life, and at the place mentioned. The writer knew Farmer Tidball personally, and has often heard the story from his wife.

SOLILOQUY

”Larence! why doos'n let I up? Oot let I up?” Naw, I be sleapid, I can't let thee up eet.--”Now, Lareuce! do let I up. There! bimeby maester'll come, an a'll beat I athin a ninch o' me life; do let I up!”--Naw I wunt.

”Larence! I bag o'ee, do ee let I, up! D'ye zee! Tha shee-ape be all a breakin droo tha hadge inta tha vivean-twenty yacres; an Former Haggit'll goo ta La wi'n, an I sholl be kill'd. _--Naw I wun't-- 'tis zaw whot: bezides I hant a had my nap out._ ”Larence! I da za, thee bist a bad un! Oot thee hire what I da za? Come now an let I scooce wi'. Lord a ma.s.sy upon me! Larence, whys'n thee let I up?”

_Caz I wunt. What! muss'n I ha an hour like wither vawk ta ate my bird an cheese? I do za I wunt; and zaw 'tis niver-tha-near to keep on._

”Maester tawl'd I, nif I wer a good bway, a'd gee I iz awld wasket; an I'm shower, nif a da come an vine I here, an tha shee-ape a brawk inta tha vive-an-twenty yacres, a'll vleng't awa vust! Larence, do ee, do ee let I up! Ool ee, do ee!”--_Naw, I tell ee I wunt._

”There's one o' tha sheep 'pon iz back in tha gripe, an a can't turn auver! I mis g'in ta tha groun an g'out to'n, an git'n out. There's another in tha ditch! a'll be a buddled! There's a gird'l o' trouble wi' shee-ape! Larence; ca.s.s'n thee let I goo. I'll gee thee a _ha peny_ nif oot let me.”--_Naw I can't let thee goo eet._

”Maester'll be shower to come an catch me! Larence! doose thee hire?

I da za, oot let me up. I zeed Farmer Haggit zoon ater I upt, an a zed, nif a voun one o' my shee-ape in tha vive-an-twenty yacres, a'd drash I za long as a cood ston auver me, an wi' a groun ash' too!