 | Poems, Ballads and Bucolics |  |
70
THE EVIL EYE.
Now Liza, didn't I tell tha a straänger wud coom to-daäy?
Fur I stirred th' owd cup last night, but the tea leaves swum and swum,
And the shrouds burnt bright in the candle thoff I snuffed and snuffed awaäy,
When things goä that-how siver, a straänger is bound to coom.
Fur I stirred th' owd cup last night, but the tea leaves swum and swum,
And the shrouds burnt bright in the candle thoff I snuffed and snuffed awaäy,
When things goä that-how siver, a straänger is bound to coom.
It's maäzin' happen you've lit huppon Eve of St. Mark to-year,
Fur my owd man as is gone, 'e wur boärn huppon Eve of St. Mark,
Why 'e'd second sight fro' 'is birth, 'e cud tell when the sperrits wur near,
And cud seeä the stars i' the nooän, that huther fwoaks seeäs at dark.
Fur my owd man as is gone, 'e wur boärn huppon Eve of St. Mark,
Why 'e'd second sight fro' 'is birth, 'e cud tell when the sperrits wur near,
And cud seeä the stars i' the nooän, that huther fwoaks seeäs at dark.
71
They doan't goä now to the choorches, but lor, when I wur a gell,
Theer wur watchers went cloäse huppo twelve, to knaw whoä was gooin' to die,
Owr maister 'e hedn't noä 'casion, fur 'e knawed thoff 'e nivver wud tell,
Wonst goä ya wur foorst to goä hivvery year when St. Mark's coomed by.
Theer wur watchers went cloäse huppo twelve, to knaw whoä was gooin' to die,
Owr maister 'e hedn't noä 'casion, fur 'e knawed thoff 'e nivver wud tell,
Wonst goä ya wur foorst to goä hivvery year when St. Mark's coomed by.
I mind one Skipputh as went, and he coom'd back maäz'd i' the heäd,
And blaämt if 'e didn't get sight of hall owd Worllaby's lot,
The gaäinest neähbour an' all, and by goy, i' the year they wur deäd,
Fur the “demmuck” tuk taäties and caulves and the fam'ly reight down to the cot.
And blaämt if 'e didn't get sight of hall owd Worllaby's lot,
The gaäinest neähbour an' all, and by goy, i' the year they wur deäd,
Fur the “demmuck” tuk taäties and caulves and the fam'ly reight down to the cot.
We wur all on us skeared i' them daäys, theer wur corplights seeän i' the ditches,
And meg-ullats skrikin' o' death, and death-carts stoppin' at doors,
And coffins that joomped fro' the cooäls, and wise men along o' the witches,
And women as hoäver-looked ya, the bad uns, by scoors and scoors.
And meg-ullats skrikin' o' death, and death-carts stoppin' at doors,
72
And women as hoäver-looked ya, the bad uns, by scoors and scoors.
One time when owr sow went wrong, and Molly the cow wur draäpe,
And the butter wud hardlins coom, and the hens got crawin' at morn,
And fur all the management put i' the threeä-haäcre top o' the raäpe,
Theer was nowt paäid cuttin' or feeädin', and ketlocks clear meslin the corn.
And the butter wud hardlins coom, and the hens got crawin' at morn,
And fur all the management put i' the threeä-haäcre top o' the raäpe,
Theer was nowt paäid cuttin' or feeädin', and ketlocks clear meslin the corn.
I minds my owd feyther went hoff to Scamblesby mountain-side,
And 'e fun the wise man i' the house, one Cossit, and telled 'im 'is staäte,
And the chimly began to rooär, and my feyther wur like to hev died,
Fur 'e thowt all the divvils i' hell wur a-bealin' a-back o' the graäte.
And 'e fun the wise man i' the house, one Cossit, and telled 'im 'is staäte,
And the chimly began to rooär, and my feyther wur like to hev died,
Fur 'e thowt all the divvils i' hell wur a-bealin' a-back o' the graäte.
73
Soä 'e downed with 'is munny and left, 'e nivver let on what he wore,
But I knaw Cossit gev fur the butter white hairs fro' a black cat's taäil,
And 'e 'vised 'im to wring the hens necks, chaänge the land, and to git a new boar,
And to turn the first sod as draape trod when she coomed fro' the milkin' paäil.
But I knaw Cossit gev fur the butter white hairs fro' a black cat's taäil,
And 'e 'vised 'im to wring the hens necks, chaänge the land, and to git a new boar,
And to turn the first sod as draape trod when she coomed fro' the milkin' paäil.
'E wur daft fur 'is paäins, fur the parson wud like enew done it fur nowt,
When Stoäne's wur hoäver-looked 'e got 'im to coom to the sty,
And 'e went to the Choorch next Sunday and 'is pigs got as well as owt,
Yeeäs, I do belieëve that the parson can sattle the “Evil Eye.”
When Stoäne's wur hoäver-looked 'e got 'im to coom to the sty,
And 'e went to the Choorch next Sunday and 'is pigs got as well as owt,
Yeeäs, I do belieëve that the parson can sattle the “Evil Eye.”
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