An’ it wor a solo!  It reminded me o’ being in a bazaar at Fair time, an’ abaght a thaasand childer blowin penny trumpets; an’ he whewd his arms abaght like a windmill; an’ aw wor nooan sooary when he’d done.  But fowk clapt an’ stamped wol he coom back agean; an’ he bow’d an’ sed he’d give ’em an immitation o’th’ backpipe, an’ awve noa daat it wor varry like it, for awm sure noa frontpipe iver made as faal a din.  After that th’ cheerman made a few remarks an’ sed, music had charms to soothe the savage beast, an’ he’d no doubt we all felt soothed with what we had heard.  He had now the pleasure to call for something of a more elevating nature still.  The next reading would be a comic song.  “Up in a balloon boys.”

Th’ chap ’at gave that wor varry wise, for as sooin as he’d begun singin’ he shut his een an’ niver oppened ’em agean till he’d done, an’ if he’d kept his maath shut aw should ha’ been better suited still.  Ov coorse he wor honcored, an’ he coom back an’ sang “Be—­e—­eutifool oil of the Se—­e—­e—­he!” wol he fair fooamd at th’ maath, but awl wave mi opinion o’ that.  Then coom th’ gem o’th’ evening, an’ th’ chap wor a gem ‘at sang it.  Th’ cheerman sed he was always proud to be able to sit an’ listen to such like, for it show’d what a deal better world ther might be if we all did our best for one another.

Th’ peanner struck up, an’ a chap in a big white hat an’ longlapp’d coit sang “What aw did for Hannah,” an’ afoor he’d finished aw thowt if he’d done hauf as mich for Hannah as he’d done for us he owt to be shot.  But when a chap’s i’ favor he con do owt, an’ when he’d done an’ been called back three times, th’ cheerman sed it wor now his duty to introduce the Rev’d Dowell to read a selection from Heenuck Harden.

As sooin as he’d sed this ivery body began to walk aght, an’ soa as aw thowt they must be gooin into another raam to hear it, aw went aght too.  But when awd getten aghtside aw saw they wor all awther leetin ther pipes or laikin at soddin one another.  Aw axed one on ’em if it wor all over.  “Net it,” he sed, “we’ve nobbut come aght wol yond dry old stick has done talking.  Th’ best pairt o’th’ entertainment has to come off yet!  Ther’s three single step doncers gooin to contest for a copy ov ‘Baxter’s Saint’s Rest,’ bun up wi’ gilt edges.”

When aw heeard that aw ihowt, well, awm nooa saint misel, but if awm a sinner awl have a bit o’ rest, whether it’s Baxter’s or net.  Soa aw walked quitely off hooam, thinkin ha thankful we owt to be at fowk ’ll labor as they do to improve an elevate poor workin’ fowk.  That wor th’ end o’ my entertainment.

Sperrit Rappin.

Did yo iver goa to a sperrit rappin’ doo?  Aw did once, but aw can’t say it wor mich i’ my line.