SKETCHES IN DIALECT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2677, 5 July 1905, Page 79

SKETCHES IN DIALECT.

By Geobdie Tamsos".

DICK'S BURTHDAE PAIRTY. "Whit dac ye think, Geordie? Twa. tickets for Mester Seddun's burthdae pairty, an' for th' platform forbye! 1 wunner wha sent them? Wha' dae ye think noo?" "I'm shair I dinna ken, Meg," says I. "Let's hae a luk at th' tickets. Humph, Seterdae nicht! That's a peety. We'll no be able tae gang." "An whit wey wull w© no' be able tae gang?"' says she, gey snappy like. "Weel," says I, "I thocht ye inveeted th' Camerons tae tea on Seterdae nicht." "A" weel," says he, '"we'll pit them aff. Ony nieht's quid eneuch tae hae -a tea- pairty, but it's no ilka nicht ye're inveeted tae th' Toon Hall —an' tae a sate on th' pletform." "Are th' Broons gaun, Meg?" "Ay, they're gaun, bit they hinna tickets, sac they'll hae tae tak' a back sate. Mrs Broon wis rale chawed whin I telt her we wis gaun, an' had a sate on th' pletform forbye. Mrs Duncan, next door, is gaun tae luk efter Tarn till we get hame." "I hinna said I'm gaun .yet, Meg," saiys I, for I felt a bit nettled at th' cut-an'-'dry wey Meg hod a'thing arranged. "No, I sippose ye're no," says she, gey sarcastic. "Nae doot th' Primmier, an' Doctor Kollins, an' th' rest are owre common folk for ye tae mi wi'." -"Wlieest, wumman," says I, "ye needna flee up owre naethin'. I wis only jokin'." "Ye're rale wutty, I maun say," says she, sac I held ma tongue. Weel, Seterdae nicht cam' roon', an' we got drest up in oor best claes an' set aff. We got tae th' Toon Hall in fine time, an' felt ger prood as we merched up th' pletform tae oor sates. There wis a gey crood o' folk there, an' mair kept poorin' in, till at last tb' place wis fu'. Oor worthy freen,' Doctor Kollins, wis in^ th' chair. "I-regret tae-say," says he, "that, owin' tae claurty weather, th' Takkiepuna, wi' th' Primmier aboard, hasna 'arrived yet, bit she canna' be larjg noo, sac we'll ga.e. on,wi' th' moosical pairt o' th' program." They had a fine baund there, an' they ie'd us someg gran' nioosic. yne a rale nice young leddy gi'ed us a sang. Then anither ane gie'd us a tune on th' fiddle, an', juist as she fineeshed, a michty roariif an' cheerin' lat us ken oor guest had arrived. Lo'd, they did kick up a hullyballoo! A'buddie got up an' cried "Hooray"! Sic' a wavin' o' hankies! I got oot ma hankie, an' wis gaun tae wave it tae, bit Meg got hand o't, an' nearly l tore it'in twa. I dinna ken whit for. It 1 wis a braw rid hankie, an' had a picter o' Tarn o' Shanter an' Sooter Johnnie^ on't. Hooever, I waved me haun's insteed. Efter a bit we a' settled doon. Th' docter read oot th' 'loominated address, an syne handit it owre tae th' Primmier wT best wishes for mony happy returns o' his burthdae. Syne Dick got on his feet. He said he wis muckle obleeged tae us for th' gran' reception he got, an' wis gled we thocht he wisna as black as he wis pented. It wis therty-sax year sin' he furst entered on a public life, an' he gie"d us a sketch o" his career frae th' time he wis howkin' for gold doon th' Coast tae th' time he cam' on th' pletform. He's a gran' haun' at blawin' his am horn, is Dick. He thocht it wis a cryin' sin tae hae Chows in Sooth Africky, efter a' th' fechtin' oor brave laddies had dune for th' Mither Kintrae. He thocht it wad only be richt gin they were tae ca' a meetin' o' th' kolonial heid bummers, an' let them wha had" dune their share o' th'" fechtin' hae a say in whit wis tae be dune efter th' ' war wis fineeshed. Syne he thocht it wadna' be a bad thing gin he lat us hae a bit faitherly advice. "There's owre muckle horse racin' an' gamblin' gaun on,' says he. "If it acs on muckle laner, oor kintrae maun suffer." .Sic' a cheerm' he got at that. There's nae doot he's ncht there. Gamblin's a great evil. I lost a thrippenny bit masel' wi' Mrs Broon's man owre th lest Melbourne Cup. It's an evil that maun be focnV-*gainst 3 is garablm an horse racin'. Syne he gaed on ta-e tell us that oor bairns hinna th' respect for auld folk that they shood hae. Weel, there's nae doot aboot that, mair's th' peety. He thocfi th' schule missus an' th' dominie werena daein' their duty in this respec'. I'm thinkin' he wad hae been mair tae th' pynt gin he had gi'en th' faithers an' mithers a rub aboot it. Mrs Broon's laddie is a reglar wee deevil. He feenished up by tellin' us he had aye dune his best for th' kintrae, accordin* tae his abeelity, an wad aye continue tae dae sac as long as he leeved. He got great cherin' whin he sat doon. It wis simpla deefnin'. Efter th' usual votes o' thanks we had oor picters ta'en wi' a flashliht kamera affair, an' feenished up wi' sinin' "God save th' King." Nae doot mony o' us canna' see cc tae cc wi' Dick. Nae doQt th' man his dune his best accordin' tae his Jichta. Nae man is perfec' in this warld. I'm far frae perfec' masel', accordin' tae Meg. Hooever, we gae'd tae greet th'- man an' no' his warks. We were a' gled tae see him lookin' sac weel, espaishly efter th* Tiad turn he siad aboot a year syne, an', layin' aside poleetical differences for th' meenit, I'm shair baith freen' an' foe alike jined heartily in wisliin' him mony hapo^,returns o lbs. da.,!.