Aw've turned mi bit o' garden o'er


Aw've turned mi bit o' garden o'er,
An' set mi seed an' o;
Soa neaw aw've done, aw'll rest a bit, An' sit an' watch it grow.
It's noice to have a little spot,
Wheer one con ceawr 'em deawn,
A quiet comfortable place,
Eawtside o' th' busy teawn,
Wheer one can sit an' smoke the'r poipe, An' have a friendly chat,
Or read th' newspaper o'er a bit,
Or talk abeawt Shurat;
Or listen to some owd mon's tale,
Some vet'ran come fro' th' wars;
Aw loike to yer 'em spin the'r yarn,
An' show the'r wounds an' scars.

One neet aw thowt aw'd tak' a walk
As far as th'Hunter's Teawr,
To beg a daisy root or two:
Tom's gan me mony a fleawr.
They're bloomin' i' mi garden neaw, Aw've sich a bonny show;
Aw've daisies, pinks, carnations, too,
An' pollyants an' o.
Yo' couldn't think heaw preawd aw feel, O' every plant an' fleawr;
Aw couldn't ha' cared for childer moor, Aw've nursed 'em mony a heawer.
But tho' they neaw look fresh an' fair, They'll droop the'r yeads an' dee;
They hanno lung to tarry here,
They're just loike yo' an' me.

Dark-lookin' cleawds are gatherin' reawnd, Aw think it's beawn to rain;
Ther's nowt could pleos me better neaw, Aw should be rare an' fain!
Mi bit o' seed wants deggin' o'er,
To help to mak' it spreawt;
It's summat loike a choild's first teeth,
'At wantin' helpin' eawt.
But aw'll be off, afore aw'm wet,
It's getten reet agate;
An' while it comes aw think aw'll get
A bit o' summat t'ate;
For oh, it is a hungry job,
This warkin' eawt o' th'door;
Th'committee should alleaw for this,
An' give one rayther moor.

Aw should so loike a good blow eawt,
A feed off beefsteak pie;
But aw can ne'er get nowt loike that
Wi' th' bit aw draw, not I!
Aw'm glad enough o' porritch neaw,
Or tothrey cold potates;
Iv aw can get enoo o' these,
Aw'st do till th'factory gates.
It's welly gan o'er rainin', so
Aw'll have another look,
An' see heaw th'garden's gettin' on:
An' then aw'll get a book,
An' read an heawer or two for th'woife, An' sing a bit for Ted;
Then poo mi clogs off, fasten t'doors,
An' walk upsteers to bed.

Samuel Laycock 1826 - 1893

selected short stories

Wallgate Chronicles is a selection of short stories (some humourous) inspired by life experiences which have fired the imagination of the author and other literary material of general interest including book reviews and opera synopses. See selection below:-


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Selected walks

A selection of the walks documented on the Walking and Cycling page of Farthingale Publications, accessible via the link at the head of the page.