A Vet's Tale. The Mains o Slacktackit.

The Vet.

Aal Geordie fae the Mains o Slacktackit wiz sittin readin the Banffshire Journal in front o the fire. His wife Maggie wiz oot feedin the chuckins an fyaachin aboot lookin for eggies. So he thocht tae himsel he’d get a look at the ‘Banffie’ afore she wun back in. There wisna muckle o interest tae Geordie but jist afore he wint tae the ‘faa’s deed’ column his ee caught on an article aboot a new technique caad artificial insemination. Michty but that’s a gye handy like advancement and it wid save a lot o siller forbyes. Always een o Geordie’s maist important come-ats against the world. Foo bliddy expensive athing wiz getting. He teen oot his bit pencil fae his wastcoat pooch and gave the pint a sook an wrote the vet’s number doon on the margin o the paper an tore it oot. The ‘faa’s deed column’ clear forgotten aboot he’s ontae the phone an spikkin tae the vet. 

“Aye- - aye- - tye tye aye fairly at! Aricht we’ll see ye then than- - - “Eh?- - oh aye aye aye this is Geordie fae the Mains min!” “Fit’s at? Ye dinna ken faa I am? Michty laddie this is een o the best set up placies in the district min!- - - Aricht-aricht dinna get yersel in a fleerip! Here’s the directions- - - - - ! Tye tye fairly at we’ll see ye the morn than!” Jist then Mistress Mains hersel came in as Geordie hung up the phone.

  Her ee fell upon the Banffie lyin in a sotter on the fleer wi a great big fyang torn oot o’t. “Oh michty!” said she and bent doon tae gaither up the paper. “Fit wye did ye dee that min?” Geordie still thinkin on aa the siller he’d be savin hardly heard her. But she noticed the big fyang o paper still in his haan wi the vet’s number written on’t and grabbed it fae him. Grummlin she sorted the paper intae order an wi a bittie sellotape she stuck the torn oot bittie intae place. Aifter she calmed doon a bittie he tellt her aa aboot this new technique caad artificial insemination an foo muckle siller it wid save him. Mrs Mains relented in her anger a bit fin she heard the magic words ‘foo muckle siller it wid save’ for she wisna kent as ‘Greed’s Grunny’ by the workers for nithing. The peer men were fed on nithing but neeps an meal. Neep brose for braakfast, neep brose for denner an for supper murlietuck made wi neep bree an fylies a curl o kail for a bit o a change! There wisna sic a thing as constipation at the Mains o Slacktackit, dam ee fears o’t! 

   Onywye the neist day the vet made his appearance and he lookit ower Geordie’s beasts. Fyaachin here an fyaachin there speirin Geordie this or speirin that he gid them a gweed owergyan. Feenished he says tae Geordie “Ye’ve some rare beasts there min. I’d say they’d be perfect specimens for the new science o artificial insemination.” He lookit aboot the byre and aifter a minty or twa said “But ye’ll nott tae get this place in order for it’s in a gye sotter for the artificial insemination. Ye see we maun gyang wi the very strict rules set oot by the government in this instance.” He gid throwe fit wiz nottin deen. The wobbs an styowe doon fae the rafters an waaheeds, the staas cleaned oot an the timmer treated wi sclatelime mixed wi vinegar, fresh strae laid, the waas coated wi beverley white distemper and the greip scoored an cleaned wi saaft soap an saan. An then he’d come back in a wikk’s time an tick aff the list afore continuing wi the artificial insemination as per government rules. Aifter the vet drove awa Geordie wint knypin throwe the close tae far his three lads were vrochtin at the dung. “Come on noo lay doon yer forks I’ve gotten a fine warm jobbie for ye!” He gid them their orders at the byre an gye near hid a mutiny on his haans. Na na the lads werena haein that. Vrochtin at a styowie blawvethrowe place like that for a wikk an bein fed on neeps aa the time? Na na dam ee fears o’t they’d tak their mairchin orders first. Geordie hid tae relent in the end so he offered them a wee bit renumeration and nae mair ‘tatties an pint’ or in their case ‘neeps an pint’. They’d be getting the same mait as himsel instead o sittin in the kitchen pointin throwe the hoose far he Geordie wiz gettin the very best o food. Well, leastwyes for the next wikk onywye but he nivver tellt them that bit though. Sleekit aal deevil!
   Onywye the vrocht wint on at a rate o knots wi this new arrangement. The lads were even tae be heard singing as they yokit tee. Mrs Mains wisna ower happy though an there wiz near a tear in her ee as she served them up wi gweed mait. But Geordie reassured her it widna last forivver an that a couple mair days should see things back tae normal. She smiled at the conspiracy. The pair o sleekit deevils.
   Onywye the byre wiz sittin like a new preen by the time the vet returned. Impressed he wint throwe the list tickin aff each item as deen and in accordance tae government rules. Geordie wi his chestie fair stickin oot teen him throwe the amount o vrocht deen as if it wiz only him that did it. “The styowe wiz teen doon fae the waaheeds an rafters, the waas coated wi beverley white as ordered, the staas cleared oot an the timmer deen wi sclatelime an vinegar as ordered wi fresh strae laid on the grun an the greip scoored wi saft soap an saan also as ordered.” The vet wiz affa impressed an said “Michty me min ye’ve forgotten nithing ava!” Geordie wi his heedy fair swingin said “An there’s even a nail at the back o the door for ye!” The vet hid a quick look at his list tae see far aboot he tellt him tae pit a nail in the back o the door but dam ee bit he could see nae mention o that ava. He says tae Geordie “I nivver tellt ye tae pit a nail in the back o the door!” Geordie wi his heedy still swingin said “I ken that richt enough but it’s my idea.” The vet getting really puzzled says “Fit wid I be needin a nail in the back o the door for?” Geordie getting a wee bit angert says “Well it’s for the artificial insemination ye’ll need someplace tae hing yer breeks!

 

  The Vet could be heard at the ither eyne o the coort lettin rip at Geordie. The three lads sittin in the kitchie back tae suppin on neep brose hid nae sympathy for the greedy,sleekit, aal deevil.

 
end

 

copyright © Patrick Hutchison

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The Twa Loons. (warning a couple of swear words)

The Twa Loons.

“Ah’m tellin ye this is the same type ‘o’ shoes that pirates wore hunners o years ago!”

“Awa ye go! Yer mither bocht them oot ‘o’ D & Es ower in Banff!”

So the argument had been going on now for most of the week.

“Ah’ll bet you could dee wi’ a pair ‘o’ sheen like this? Eh? Said Johnny to Billy.

Billy looked on outwardly indifferent as Johnny polished the buckles of his shoes for the thousandth time.

“Look at that! See how they shine? If you hid a pair ‘o’ shoes like this we could play at pirates!” said Johnny trying to tease Billy.

“I dinna want a pair ‘o’ shoes like that - - they’re weemin’s shoes onywye!” he said hardly managing to keep the jealousy out of his voice. Billy didn’t mention that his mother had been over to D & Es for a pair too but had been told there had only been the one pair, and that had been for an historical window display.

Johnny knew Billy would love a pair and did his utmost to make him jealous.

“YO HO HO and a bottle o rum- - “ sang Johnny as he swaggered about the drying green- - “Fifteen men in a dead man’s chest yo ho ho- - “ Pulling on on the clothes line as if hoisting the mizzen.

!Oh! Ah’ve got dust on ma buckles Ah’d better clean it aff!”

“Aye ye’d better clean yer weemin’s sheen!” shouted Billy fae his favourite seat on tap o the coalbunker. “Abody will laugh an’ caa ye a sissy for haein sheen wi buckles on them!”

Johnny decided tae let that one slip, intead he said “Let’s ging doon ti the hairbour wi the linies;-- - maybe a pirate ship will sail in for supplies an’ I’ll be be teen on as een o the crew seein’ that I’ve got pirate shoes.”

“Come on en- -” says Billy jumping down from the coal bunker - -”Let’s get the linies an some worms.” Off they went tae the shed for their linies and Billy reminded Johnny “We’ll need a jar for the worms.”

“I’ll get een!” and Johnny’s off into the house. A minute later he came back with one of his mother’s jars she kept for her summer jam.

“Ah’ve got een” Far’s the spade?” he found it and handed the spade and the jar to Billy- - “You dig em up!” he commanded.

“Fit’s wrang wi you? - - -. Why div you nae dig em up?” asked Billy.

“I canna dig dig em up Ah’ve ma fancy sheen on!”

Billy gave in- - “Gee’s a hud o’t.” Soon they’d enough worms and headed for the harbour.

Settling down at their favourite spots they soon were lost to the excitement of fishing. Between the boys there was a great deal of competition while fishing. Billy favoured the end of the pier while Johnny prefered where the pier joined the fish market.

After a good while Johnny shouted - - “Look at that!” - - -

Billy heard and came running over thinking Johnny was onto whopper. “Look at that!” - - “Fit? Far aboot?” asked Billy looking into the water.

“Look div ye see that?- - - See the wye the sun reflects aff ma buckles?”

Billy’s mind was torn back from contemplating a huge fish to the soul destroying envy of the pirate shoes.

“Wid ye shut up aboot yer wifie’s sheen- - Did ye see the wye abody looked at yer feet fin we come doon the road?”

“Aye Ah noticed!” at’s because they’d been thinkin at lad must be a pirate; - he’s got pirate’s sheen on.” answered Johnny. Billy getting really jealous came back with - “It’s nae fit they were thinkin, I heard them sayin as we passed.”

“Look At’s a fanny he’s weerin wifie’s sheen- - an he fair thinks he’s a pirate.”

“Pieces o eight- pieces o eight!” squaked Johnny mocking Long John Silver’s parrott.

Billy retreated to his favoured spot and continued fishing.Now and then ‘Yo ho ho and a bottle o rum’ would come from Johnny’s end of the pier.

About an hour and a lot of black thoughts later he heard Johnny shouting. Looking round he saw Johnny gestulating with his arms and hoping about on one foot. Billy ignored him and continued fishing there was no way he was going there to be told the sun was reflecting off his shoe buckles. But Johnny carried on shouting so Billy ran down to see what was wrong. Johnny in a terrible state said “Quick min- get yer line – een ‘o’ ma sheen’s fell intae the hairbour,- hook it afore it sinks!” Sure enough there it was floating in the water with its buckle shining bright. “Use yer ain line.” said Billy- - “I canna it drapped intae the water ana!”

By this time the shoe began to sink, water getting in where the buckle was attached. The buckle grew green as the shoe slowly sank to the bottom of the harbour. Johnny by this time had virtually broken down gasping “Ma shoe! Ah’ve lost ma shoe- mither will kill ma-!” and started to bubble.

After wandering about aimlessly for a few minutes, he gathered his thoughts and decided against diving into the harbour because he couldn’t swim. Instead he began walking up the road, or hoping would be a better staement.

Billy followed on with a grin like a Cheshire cat; completely satisfied with what had happened thinking to himself ‘Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum’.

A boy shouted “HEY! That lad’s only got ae shoe on hahaha!” Johnny shouted a profanity and gave chase to the boy. It’s strange to witness someone running with one shoe on – slap- pad- slap-pad- slap-pad until he stubbed his toe on the pavement and was rolling around on the road holding his injured foot and letting off a string of oaths that would’ve made a real pirate blush.As it was the height of Summer the street was crowded with holidaymakers most of whom had stopped what they were doing to witness the proceedings.

Sitting on the road was a blond haired blue eyed boy that looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth letting go the most obscene curses they’d ever heard. They were aimed at God, the devil, the harbour, the road and above all something that sounded like “wifie’s sheen onywye!”

At the other side of the road sat another blond haired blue eyed boy with the same butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth looks with the tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks. Billy uderlined the whole episode with - - “YO HO HO and a bottle o fuckin rum!” hahahaha!

End.

 

copyright © Sanners Gow

 

Peter Fair.

 

 

Peter Fair wiz in full swing and boorachs o fowk were millin aboot lookin at aa the Chaip John stalls. The geets were rinnin aroon wild ee’d and excited wi aa the sichts an sounds o this Aladdin’s cave o furls an fancies. A big ‘gallshicks stall hid set up sellin ivvery kind o sweeties ye could imagine, pu-candy, swiss tablet, boilings, pandrops and Aiberdeen rock tae name but a fyowe. Mony a wee hand wid shoot oot an grab a sweetie as they ran past at a rate o knots. The lad that owned the stall wiz gan gyte at them and wid lash oot at some o them wi a lang stick that wiz nae doot made for the job. Nae only wiz he being plagued wi human wasps but there wiz cloods o the real thing seekin some o his stock as weel. A harassed mannie richt enough wi a stick in ae hand swiping at the bairns and a flee swat in tither for the wasps or sharp ersed hooers as he caad them.
   Anent the sweetie stall there wiz a lad that claimed tae be a doctor and he wiz sellin bottles o Doctor Mcpherson’s Life Tonic at one shillin an saxpence a bottle. He’d plenty patter did this lad an tellt the githerd crowd he’d gotten the secret recipe fae a monk in Tibet and the monk hid been 137 years aal at the time. The doctor? fairly lookit a dapper wee mannie wi his lum hat, a big tash an mutton chop sidewigs. Some fowk were parting wi hard earned siller as they steed open moothed takin in aa the nonsense. For one and sax they were gettin a bottle o water coloured wi turmeric and a tayspeen o fusky for a bit o flavour.
   Anither stall wiz selling pocket watches wi chynes an trinkets. A lot o the fairmservant chiels were roon aboot this een because tae own a pocket watch wiz a bit o a status symbol. There wiz twa kinds o watches though. the dear yins that were gweed watches an wi gie a lifetime's service an the chaip John eens the workit for 24 oors then aifter they were bang on time twice in every 24 oors. Tae the young lads the chaip eens were jist the ticket because wi them ye got a mock siller chyne an some wee trinkets tae gang w’t. Mony a young loon left the stall wi his chest stickin oot as he lookit doon at the watch an chyne noo hingin fae his wastcoat pooch.
   Ae lad wiz staanin in a clearin throwin neeps in the air an splittin them wi his heed as they come doon wi a seeckenin ‘thwak’ the neep wid be split in twa. The deemies in the crowd screamed ilka time an turned awa intae their lad's shooder if they hid een. This suited the young loons fine an mony a comforting bosie they got fae their strong protective fishermin or ploomin. The neep splitter wiz strippet tae the waist and o aa things he wore a North American Indian chief’s heed dress made up o coloured seagull feathers. Atween neeps he’d tell the huge crowd in a pure Aiberdeen accent that his great granda hid been Chief Sitting Bull the lad that hid slaachtered General Custer and aa his men at the battle o the Little-Bighorn. Ivvery noo an then he’d stop an ging roon the crowd wi a widden brose bowl painted wi indians an jook feathers stuck on’t. The coins were fair rattlin in especially fae the lads that’s deemies teen a faint at the sicht o a real North American Indian like this. He lookit the part though wi the seagull featherd heed dress an stripes o soot on his face as warpaint. He even hid a tomahawk at his side wi gull feathers on it as weel but wiz actually his mither’s aixe for chappin sticks. The breeks he wore were buff coloured moleskins and could if yer imagination wiz up tae it be real buckskin. The only thing that spyled the effect wiz the tackety beets instead o moccasins.
   The beer tent though wiz deein a roaring trade wi it being sic a hot sunny day an hantles o fishermin, fairm servants and fairmers were sookin back the warm beer tae weet their wheeples. Some lads though werena in the wye o drinkin sae muckle and ended up ootside the tent in a drunken sotter, The staff jist picked them up fae in the tent an layed them tae ae side tae recover. Sic a sotter! One lad got up fae the raw o drunks an staggered awa tae hae a look at some o the stalls, on the wye he near upset a stall o dishes The woman that owned them shouted ‘Awa ye go ye drunken gype leave ma dishes be!’
At this he staggerd towards anither stall that hid rubbits an wee widden hoosies for them, there were birds in tiny wee wire cages an pyokes o seed for feedin them. In fact there wiz aa kinds o beasties at this stall. The drunk lad though wisna muckle interested in ony o that, he wiz mair teen wi the tray o tortoises. Through a haze o drink he says tae the stall keeper ‘Heymin! gimma twa o them things!’ pyntin tae the tray o tortoises. He bocht them an put een intae each pooch o his jaicket an staggered awa headin for ither stalls. The owner shook his heed. He’d seen plenty drunk fowk in his time but that lad wiz so drunk he couldn’ve bitten his ain finger.
A fair while later he saw the drunk lad makin his wye towards his stall again but this time the bleed wiz fleein fae his mooth. Nae doot he must’ve annoyed some bugger an got a chap on the lips he thocht. The drunk lad staggered up tae the stall an through his bleed splattered mooth said ‘Heymin ! an pointin tae the tray o tortoises ‘Gimma anither twa o them pies min but nae wi sic hard crusts this time!'

copyright © Sanners Gow 

Bunty's Tale.

Bunty's Tale.

I wiz vrochtin pintin the ootside work o the local bank and hid jist feenished the last windae. Fan I came doon fae the laidder I fun an aal wifie wytin for ma. Seein she wiz huddin back I says till her “Aye aye fit like I day?” At this she smiled an lookit relieved. 

“Are ee a pinter?” 

The only thing I could say as I wiz staanin at the fit o a laidder wi a pit pot an brush in ma haan an fite dungarees on wiz 

“I am that.” 

She wiz weerin een yon aal farrent thick cwites wi a strae type hat on an her big leather haanbag held nervously in front o her. She speired at ma if I kent onything aboot spoots. I replied that I could pint them fyles but nae an affa lot mair. 

The lang an the short o’t wiz that een o her spoots wiz leakin an lettin water rin doon the front o her hoosie. I tellt her I’d come an hae a lookie at it eence I wiz lowsed here in aboot a haaf oors time. I got her address but as she left she tellt ma I widna be able tae tak my van doon because the lane wiz ower narra for motors. Onywye that didna maitter muckle I’d only be nottin my wee laidder and a haanyfae o putty tae dee the job an it wisna far tae her hoosie. I seen fun the placie. It wiz in a raa o reed tiled hooses aa o ae story. I spotted the aal wifie’s hoosed richt awa because o the spoot hingin doon a wee bit. Settin up my laidder I got at the spoot and in meenits got athing shipshape eence mair wi a gweed clairt o putty in the jint an tappin the spoot bracket intae place. I cleaned oot the rest o the spoot o moss an leaves and in the process fun anither couple o spoot brackets nottin chappit in. “

O’ that’s fine pinter.” 

Lookin doon the aal wifie wiz staanin there fair smilin she wiz still weerin her cwite but her strae hat wiz aff. She teen ma intae the aal farrent scullery for a cuppy o tay and a fine piece. I saw some faded picters on the waa so I speired at her faa the affa bonnie deemie wiz in een o them. Oh michty she teen a richt laach at that sayin "At's me nearly saxty years ago!" She laached again but I could see a bittie o colour come itae her face fin I said she'd been affa gweed lookin! 

Onywye aifter anither cuppy o tay I made tae leave but she seemed sweered tae let ma go so thinkin she wiz lonely I sat a fylie langer. I'm glaid noo that I did bide for she tellt ma the follyin story that made the hairs on the back o ma neck curl.

Poorin oot mair tay for ma she settled hersel doon in the seat across the table fae ma afore takin a deep breath an startin her tale.

 

   “Weel ye see I wiz in the service o Doctor Webster and his wife at New Deer weel afore the war. Ye micht ken the hoose it’s jist up fae the aal kirk in the toon? Onywye I’d started tae vrocht there in the Mey term, jist deein general duties. They werena demandin fowk and apairt fae a fyowe freens roon noo an en my work wiz pretty mundane. Jist cleanin, cookin, washin an lookin aifter the haaf dizzen chuckins. The doctor’s wife did her ain shoppin so I’d neen o that tae dee. They’d electric lichts so I’d nae lamps tae full and clean an apart fae takkin in coal for the fire I’d gotten masel a gweed sit doon as far as service wiz concerned.
Onywye it wiz aboot the month o November as the nichts came in that I first noticed something strange. The first fyowe times I’d seen this I didna think muckle aboot it.
   Noo Doctor Webster’s hoose backed ontae fields. There’s a lane rins atween the aal kirk an the hoose an as far as I could see it jist led tae the park. Onywye the first time I saw it I wiz oot shuttin the hens in for the nicht fin I saw a lassie makin her wye doon the lane.
I said “Aye aye!” tae her but she nivver let on she heard ma.
Neen put oot I closed up the hennies then checked the gate wiz richt tee.
I teen a glance doon the lane tae see faar aboot the deemy hid geen but nae signs o her could I mak oot? Micht be there’s a crafty doon there that I didna ken aboot? This wint on for a fyowe nichts an the illfashions got the better o ma so I’d nithing adee but tae hae a walk doon the lane neist day in daylicht.
The lane led ontae a puckle yards faar fowk planted kail, cabbages an sic like. After that the track headed doon by a copse o trees then peetered oot at the entrance tae some parks. There wisna ony signs o hooses o ony kind.
Mair than a bittie puzzled I made my wye back thinkin aa the while faar that deemie could be gyan till in the late forenicht? Nae matter, that nicht fin I gid oot tae shut in the hennies I put my cwite on wi the full intention o follyin the deemie this time if she put in an appearance. But na na, she didna show that nicht nor for a puckle nichts aifter.
   It wisna till aboot the Feersday o the next wik I saw her eence mair. I spoke till her again expectin tae be ignored as usual but this time she looked at ma, she nivver spoke but she fairly lookit at ma. An fin she did for some reason or ither, I felt the hairs on the back o ma neck birrs. Her face wiz snow white and her een were like black holes, it lookit tae me in the shadas that she tried tae spik but couldnae.
She cairried on waakin doon the lane so I followed her. She wiz fair knypin on so it teen me a minty tae catch up an keep her in view. Doon past the yards she wint and I could see she wiz headin towards the copse o trees. I lost her tae sicht there because doon here the shadas were much deeper. I stood still an slowly lookit aboot but nae a sign o her could I see. Faa wiz she an faar wiz she gan?
I wiz aboot tae wun ma wye hame fin I saw a movement at the side o the trees an there she wiz staanin lookin ower at ma. She then started tae pint doon at her feet ower and ower again then slowly she disappeared fae sicht. I teen tae ma heels at this as if the jookles o hell were ahin ma an got back tae the hoose in an affa sotter o swyte an fear.
By gweed luck Doctor Webster wiz gan in the back gate at the same time. He’d me intae the hoose in nae time poorin whisky doon ma thrapple. He said later he saw I wiz in a state o complete shock and the only thing he hid tae shock ma hert back intae a normal rhythm wiz whisky. I did manage tae tell him fit I’d seen eventually and he thocht I’d been imagining things. Mrs Webster though, now doon tae find oot whit wiz gan on, came oot ontae my side. She said that she’d also seen that lassie walk by mony’s the time but hid nivver thocht onything aboot it?”
   “The neist day we aa wint doon tae faar I’d seen the lassie stop the nicht afore but of coorse there wisna onything tae see. Doctor Webster tellt me tae rin up tae the hoose for a shovel but I didna need tae bother for I met in wi an aal lad makkin his wye doon tae the yards wi a shovel intae his haan. In nae time he’d a scrape oot o the grun fin Doctor Webster tellt him tae stop. He bent doon an picked up fit lookit like a wee bit o stick. Aifter lookin at it a minty doctor Webster turned tae me an tellt ma I’d tae gyang up for the policeman for we’d jist uncovered human remains.
   It turned oot the lassie hid been murdered an beeriet there aboot a haaf century afore. She’d been the dochter o the local soutar an hid geen missing athoot trace. An engraved locket wi her name wiz still roon her neck. At the time fowk said she’d run awa wi the lad she used tae ayee meet wi doon at the copse. The police thocht he’d killed her an beeriet her afore rinnin awa fae the district. But of course they couldna really be sure if it wiz him that did it or no.”
Sittin back in the seat she nodded at ma sayin "There now pinter fit did ye think o that?" Afore I could answer she'd the kettle on again and anither fine piece on ma plate then started tellin me yet anither story- - - ??

If I Catch Ye I'll Eat Ye.

                                       Tarlair at Macduff Banffshire.

 The photo is Tarlair Wall Hoosie beside Macduff and is the same place Johnny Gibb o Gushetneuk visited tae partake o the waters. My story is set a fair while afore that time and is written in the Banffshire Doric.
The wee hoosie tae the richt o the photo is the 'Water Wall' o Tarlair. Fowk wid come tae partake o its health giving waters. The posh fowk caad it 'chaleybeat spring' but the locals caad it 'The Ironeerie wally' In taste it hid a zing tae it and it wiz this folk thocht gave it a health benefit. At the far richt o the wee bey jist far it bends wiz the scaups far the fisher fowk stored their mussels for bait in the rock pools tae keep them fresh.


If I Catch Ye I'll Eat Ye.

Written in the Doric of North East Scotland.


Afore nicht the fisher quines wid make their wye tae the scaups tae get mussels for the next day's line fishin. A puckle o them were bent on this and made their wye doon the wee track fae higher up. As they reached the wee Wall Hoosie o a sudden they heard a ghostly voice comin fae inside it 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' Noo the quines teen flegg at this an set up an affa skirlin as they ran back up the cliff road back towards the toon. The creels for their bait thrown tae the fower weens. In an affa sotter o swyte an fear they ran towards Wully Wazzie's hoose.
Wully wiz employed by the parish as a kind o constable faa keepit the peace.
Jist as they reached his door Wully wiz makin tae leave for his nightly visit tae the Ale Hoose faar he spent the shillin a day he got peyed for bein the constable.
He got the quines tae calm doon enough tae tell him fit wiz wrang. On hearin their story he squaared his shooders like he thocht constables did and teen control o the situation. Noo Wully hid stood in the line at Waterloo wi the Gordons and mair by luck than onything else hid survived the butcher's shop o slaachter. He thocht tae himsel he'd better ging an pit on his uniform if he wiz gyan tae face the Devil again, he'd deen it eence at Waterloo so he could surely dee it again at Tarlair. But the quines set up sic a noise fin he made tae get his uniform so instead he put on the hat and picked up his musket & shot. He nearly forgot the gunpooder horn in aa the hash but he mind aboot it. Sic a feel he'd hae looked if he made his wye tae Tarlair athoot pooder. Slingin his musket Wully Wazzie set fit like a sojer towards Tarlair. He tellt the quines tae gang hame because this wisna work for weemin fowk. The quines peyed nae heed tae Wully and fell in line ahin him and tried tae march like sojers. Truth be tellt Wully wiz glaid o the company so he didna say onything.
   At last they reached the Wall Hoosie and crouched doon ahin the wee drysteen dyke and waited. Sure enough the ghostly voice sounded eence mair 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' Wully felt his knees turn tae water at this and the quines cooried doon ahin his back whimperin wi the fear. The lassies started puttin him on the back 'Go on then deet!' Wully turned roon 'Dee fit?'
The quines said in ae voice 'Sheet it !!'
   Wully swallied his spittle at this and cannily got tae his feet. He unslung his musket and fummled aboot for his pooderhorn. He could see the door o the Wall Hoosie but couldna see inside, it wiz jist black. The eerie voice sounded again and he shook gunpooder awye. Settlin doon a bittie he eventually got some charge doon the barrel and teen the ramrod and tamped it doon. As he made tae pit in the ball een o the quines said 'Fit are ye deein Wully?'
'I'm pitten in the bullet quine!'
At this the lassie said 'That's nae eese Wully ye winna kill a ghost wi a bullet ye'll need leven siller min!'
Wully pulled a face 'EH?' 'Fit's leven siller?'
The quine shook her heed at this 'Leven siller is siller that's been beaten!' That jist didna mak sense tae him ava. The lassie pit oot her hand 'Gimmet?'
'Gie ye fit lassie?'
'Yer pey that ye were on yer wye tae spend at the Ale Hoose. Reluctantly Wully handed ower the four silver thrupennies that made up that day's wages. The quine teen them and picked up a steen fae the dyke and bashed the coins intae the shape o a musket baa. Fin she feenished as the ghostly voice sounded eence mair 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' Wully grabbed the leven siller shot and rammed it hame shook pooder intae the pan and closed the cover and pulled back the airm o the flint lock and set it at half cock. Squaarin his shooders Wull faced the enemy jist as he did aa the years afore at Waterloo. He wyted a minty or twa till his breathin became slower and raised the musket tae his shooder and set the flint airm tae full cock. Jist as he pulled the trigger the lassie aside him tripped in the excitement. She hut the musket barrel in the air jist as the flint sparked in the pan, there wiz a big flash and the musket discharged and fired Wully's day's pey ower intae Loch Craig. Wully screamed like a wee lassie as the gunpooder flame blew back intae his face the musket wint ae wye and Wully the ither. Wi hands ower his face Wully rolled aboot the grun shoutin 'Ma bliddy een hiv been blawed clear oot o ma heed!!' The lassie's tried tae get his hanns awa fae his face but he widna let them dee that and jist shouted 'They're my een let ma be!'
Aifter mair priggin he let them see his een and tae abody's relief it wiz only the eebroos and eyelashes that were gone. Een o the lassies patted him on the shooder 'Dinna worry aboot it Wully they'll seen growe back an ye'll be as gweed lookin as ivver!'
Even wi aa the noise the ghostly voice wiz still sayin 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!' The fisher quines took maitters intae their ain hands and wint intae the Wall Hoosie an found wee Sanners MacKeerin in one corner a finger up his nose howkin for snotters sayin 'If I catch ye I'll eat ye!'
Sanners got a richt skelpit erse fae his mither for aa the cairryon he'd started then he got anither skelpit erse for pickin his nose and tellt if he kept deein that he'd end up wi ae nostril the size o an egg cup.
The fisher quines got their bait an wun hame w't chatterin aa the while aboot their adventure.
Wully meanwhile hid wint back hame feelin gye dejected an hingin luggit. Nae only hid he lost his eebroos and lashes an mair than a wee bit o self esteem but the thocht that his ale siller wiz at that very moment somewye in the middle o Loch Craig wiz hard tae tak.
Aifter a while though a chap came tae his door. The fisher quines were there wi a big handfae o coins they'd collected atween themsels tae thank him for bein so brave.

copyright © Sanners Gow

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The Diary o' a Feel at the skweel ( Duncin)

 

 

 

The Diary o a Feel at the Skweel (Duncin)

The lead up tae Chresmess at the skweel wiz a nechtmare for me. Fae aboot the middle o November onwards ilka PT day we got duncin lessons tae get us ready for the Chresmess party. 

  Afore I begin ma story I’ll gie ye a wee guide tae the layoot o the skweel in the photae. At the very center o the skweel wiz a huge hall and aa the classrooms were located at the side maist o the wye roon ahin big aal farrent doors. Nae glaiss in them jist huge doors wi a fanlicht abeen.. The hall itsel hid bonny parquet fleerin an there wiz fite lines aa the wye roon showin ye faar ye could walk fan gan tae yer classes. The center wiz the ‘Holy o Holies’ an if ye were eedjit enough tae walk there or rin across it tae get tae yer class that wiz a beltable offense. The only time we were alloed tae walk there wiz durin PT or skweel assembly. On enterin the hall ye’d tae walk in a clockwyes direction tae reach yer classroom keepin tae the recht side o the fite line. It wiz an affa bonny biggin an the fleer wiz something else. Efter ony skweel holidays the janny hid it aa polished wi the fine smell o aal farrent wax polish. Tae me that made up for returin tae skweel wi ma lippy tremmlin efter a heavenly braak awa fae the place. I’ve eyee heen a predilection tae the smell o wax polish an nae doot in oor modern world some weirdos wid say that I’ve gotten a fetish o some kind aboot it but bah humbug tae them I jist liket the smell o beeswax an turps.

  Onywye here comes the duncin. The teachers wid hae the record player set up on a bench. Jist een o yon all farrent eens in a box wi a cairrien hunnle at ae side like a suitcase. It wiz eether a PYE or a Bush een an I could’ve done wi een masel tae play my twa Burl Ives records. I digress here though.

We’d be ushered intae the centre o the hall and lined up and the teachers wid gie us a bit o a pep talk aboot foo tae conduct oorsels eence we started duncin. By thes pynt my moral hid hut ma feet and lookin roon I could see by the looks on ither faces I wisna aleen in that feelin. Lookin back aa that years I realise that maist teachers didna only tak awa ony possible enjoyment fae lessons on a daily basis but they could even destroy Chresmess for ye by duncin lessons. On wid gang the Jimmy Shand records then the rows an bullyin wid start as they cajoled ye tae enjoy duncin through terror. Nae a gweed environment Ah’m tellin ye. 

Durin the lesson we were taught foo tae ask a lassie up tae dunce. The quines wid be made tae staan at the ae side and us loons steed at the ither an like eedjits we’d tae cross ower and ask for a dunce. Nae Doric alloed ye hid tae ask in English “Could I have the pleasure of this dance?” The lassies were taught tae reply “Thank you I’d love to.” So fin the teacher tellt us tae dee thes I heeded for the maist popular quine in the class an speired her tae dunce. I could see by her een that I wiz the very last person in the world she wanted staanin in front o her askin for tae dunce but the peer quine wiz caught atween the haimmer an the anvil because like aa the quines they’d been tell that tae refuse wiz considered affa illmannered an nae quite the theng tae dee. So here’s the maist popular quine in the class wi the weeist runt in the class caught up in the etiquette o gweed manners as the wee runt steed there smilin wytin tae be refused. Sadly though that didna happen she must’ve heen better manners than I thocht? Aa the loons that hid status were glowrin at ma an I kent there’d be a price tae pey for my ungentlemanly behaviour later on oot in the playgrun. But then something happenet that teen the immediate heat aff ma fan a quine started howlin oot o her. 

Seeminly there wiz three o the loons refusin tae dunce wi her. There wiz three loons an ae quine left tae get a partner but the three loons refused pynt blank tae dunce wi her. Loads o threats were made at the loons but they steedfast an widna yield tae the teachers ava. By thes time the peer quine hid burst intae tears an they were rinnin doon her chiks like a flood.Noo there wiz nithing wrang wi the lassie ava it wiz jist that the loons hid teen a set against duncin. The PT teacher wiz there an he threatened them wi the tag if een o them didna tak her up tae dunce. Stell they refused even at thes. By noo the peer quine hid started sobbin an by the look on the PT teachers face there wiz only gan tae be one ootcome tae thes. He left and came back wi the tag in his haan an eence again offered een o them tae tak the quine up tae dunce but stell they refused. So he gave the three o them a puckle whacks wi his belt. Noo oor PT teacher wiz a fit strong lad so he pit them on as hard as he could. Thankfully the three loons teen thes athoot a myout fae ony o them but by God ye could see they must be hurtin. Onywye efter he’d feenished he grabbit een o the loons an made him dunce wi the quine an made the ither twa loons dunce wi eenanither. Noo the loon that wiz forced tae dunce wi the lassie wiz a particular pal o mine an the look o wounded pride on his face cracked me up so I couldna dee onytheng for laachin aboot thes an because I couldna stop even efter bein threatened wi the tag masel I wiz sent ootside. I did try a couple o times tae get back intae the hall but ilka time fan I saw my mate’s physog duncin wi the quine I started tae laach again like a complete eedjit an hid tae leave again. The laachter didna last lang though because oot in the playgrun I’d tae pey for my jumpin abeen the station o a mere runt by approachin the maist popular quine in the class. 

But michty fitna gran day that wiz. A real Chrestmess tae remember.

 

copyright © Sanners Gow

The Steens That Turned.

                          Mary MacDonald ootside her hoose.


The Steens That Turned.


Aal Mary MacDonald sat at the cheek o the fire an gave the coals a rummle up wi the poker wi the hope that she micht get the last heat oot o the grate. She shivered wi the caal an pulled her shawl a bittie closer. The Laird’s factor hid came that mornin an teen her coal an athing else o value tae pey the back rent o the hoose. He wiz weel suited tae work for the Laird for he wiz jist like him, Godless an athoot mercy.
   Mary lookit aroon the room in the deein licht even the deepening shadas showed it wiz empty. Athing gone barr the chair she sat on, the clyse on her back and her wee three fittid callander porridge pot that hung fae the swye abeen the fire. They micht as weel hae teen it ana because ower the past fyowe days she’d nivver hin a haanfae o meal tae pit in it. Jock her aal man wiz beeriett a week syne. He’d broke his back in een o the Laird’s mills fin the laidder he wiz on cairryin a bolt o canvas hid given fae ablow him. His body hid been teen hame on a cairt an left for Mary tae deal wi. Wi nae a penny aboot her the parish hid beeriett him in a pauper’s grave.
  The parish hid a special coffin for paupers. The body wiz transported tae the corner o the kirkyard an lowered intae the hole an aifter ony folk that hid been there tae pey the corp last respects hid left, the gravedigger pulled a pin in the coffin an the bottom opened an the corp fell oot. The box wiz removed tae awyte the next pauper. Nae marker wiz allowed.
  Wi Jock workin in the mill the hoose wiz tied so Mary hid tae be oot o the hoose by the wikeyne or twa days hence. The worst thing aboot the factor takin aa her goods & chattles wiz he hidna even left her wi the comfort o her great granda’s bible. A big leather beuk that the factor said wid mak a fyowe shillins. She’d begged him tae leave her w’t but na na he wiz takin it richt reason or neen.Mary hid made a grab for it an he gave her a backhaan slap in the face an tore it fae her hands. A letter hid fell fae it in the struggle an that’s fit she hid in her haan as she sat at her noo oot fire shiverin wi the caal.
  The letter wiz worn wi age an being haanled. Thirty five years hid passed since she’d been sent it fae her son’s commandin officer in India tellin her that Daavid her son hid been killed on the North West frontier in November 1845. Her only bairn hid died at the age o twenty one far far awa fae hame.. He’d been aichteen the last time she’d saw him at the jile in Banff, that hid been the day he’d been teen awa tae the army. Mary sabbit at the memory but nae tears came tae her een, the tears were dried up lang syne. She shivered again but this time nae wi the caal but wi the memory as tae how her bairn hid ended up bein pitten tae the army in the first place.
  It hid been her fault for sendin him tae the big hoose wi the curtains she’d repaired for the Laird’s wife. Mary commin fae the Heilands as she did hid been weel taught by her aunties how tae shew. She’d ayee managed tae mak an extra sair nott shillin that wye afore her haans hid gotten twisted wi age. That forenicht she sent her laddie up tae the big hoose little thinkin she wiz sendin him tae his destiny.
  Daavid hid left wi the curtains hoping it wid be the bonny servant deemy that wid answer the back door o the big hoose but wiz tae be disappointed fin it wiz the aal hoosekeeper that answered it. On the wye back hame he’d teen a shortcut throwe the widdies and it wiz there he’d heard the screams. Hurryin towards the sound, in a clearin he’d come across the Laird’s son an anither laddie forcing themsels on a lassie as she lay on the grun screamin for them tae stop.
  Daavid didna wyte but plooed intae the twa lads like a carronade at Waterloo. At first they’d been shocked an back fitted, but soon they’d turned the tables on Daavid for baith o them were weel trained at fisticuffs. Daavid kent there’d be nae wye he could beat this lads fairly so he’d picked up a lump o stick like a crummoch an gave baith o them a gweed beettlin.
  He’d cairriet the lassie hame tae his mither in an affa state an she washed the lassie an tended tae her wounds as best she could. Daavid wiz mair than upset because this wiz the bonny servant lassie he’d hoped tae see fin he delivered the curtains tae the big hoose. That nicht the dragoons hid come tae the hoose an teen Daavid an the lassie awa. Her tae an asylum an Daavid tae seven years service in the East India company. The servant lassie hid died in the asylum soon aifter and naebody hid kent if she’d deet by fair means or foul. Daavid wi nae proof o fit really happened hid been sentenced tae twenty years hard labour or seven years service in the ranks o The Honourable East India Company. He’d chosen the army an ended up dyin on the North West frontier.
  Mary sabbit as she looked doon at the time worn letter, the only link she noo hid wi her lang lost son. At least the paper and the ink hid came fae the place her bairn hid breathed his last. Mary shivered in the noo freezin room, the last o the fire wiz gone.
  As the shadas deepened Mary thocht tae hersel she’d licht the last inch o cannle so she could read the letter an awyte fitivver the future noo hid in store for her. She teen oot the flint ‘n’ fleerish fae her aapron pooch for tae licht the cannle but changed her mind. Instead she steed up slowly stiff wi the caal an wupped her threedbare shawl tichter aboot her shooders an made for the door.
   In the dark shadas o Duff street she made her wye oot o the toon thinkin tae hersel aa the while as she passed the dimly lit windaes o the folk sittin within maybe laachin as they sat doon tae dine on their simple fare. As she passed one windae she did hear somebody laachin an the fine smell o mutton broth waffted fae the same place as the laachter. Mary made her wye past aa the hooses an headed up the Montcoffer road towards the ruined waasteens o the ancient kirk. She’d find the first o fit she wiz seekin there.
   By the scam o the full meen she saw the sparse winter branches o the aal aspen tree that grew aside the kirkyard. The aspen is a pagan tree an nivver allowed tae growe in a Christian kirkyard. She kneeled afore the pagan tree and seekit permission o’t tae tak some fallen branches fae it. Then she crawled roon the tree three times widdershins (anti-clockwise) each time sayin oot loud three names. Aifter she’d peyed her devotions tae the pagan aspen tree she picked up an oxterfae o branches. Thankin the tree Mary turned three times widdershins.
  Mary’s aunties werena only good wi the needle ‘n’ threed they’d been weel versed in the Black Airts and hid shown Mary some maledictions as well. Mary a deeply religious person hid nivver in her life imagined hersel using that knowledge o the Black Airts, until this very day fin the factor hid teen fae her the Holy Bible that hid meant so muckle tae her.
   Next Mary made her wye back the road she’d came an wint tae the wee brigg faar baith the living an the deed crossed. She struggled throwe fun bushes that tore at her legs and eventually near drappin reached the burn. She entered the freezin waaters wi a gasp as it came up tae her hochs and walked ablow the arch o the wee brigg. There wisna ony meenlicht here but she’d nae need o’t.
  Takin her shawl fae her shooders she bent doon an guddled aboot in the waater till she got ten waterworn steens each aboot the size o an aipple. Pittin them intae her shawl she wint back up the bank near in a state o collapse. Her clyse were soakin aweet wi the freezin waater but o that she peyed nae heed. On the side o the brigg she haanled each o the ten steens in turn an threw yin back tae the waater. Placin the nine chosen steens back intae her shawl she tied them up intae the mak dee bag. Pickin up the aspen branches on her wye she made the lang road hame.
  It wiz much later noo an hardly a licht showed as she passed the hooses. By the time Mary reached her ain door the bitter caal an the days athoot mait were beginin tae tell on her. Exhausted she drappit the steens an the aspen branches tae the grun an thankfully sat on the seat she’d left oors afore..
   Mary didna ken foo lang she'd sat there but wi a start she got tae her feet an staggered tae the shawl and teen oot the nine steens. She laid the steens in front o the fire and there turned each steen tae the widdershins nine times at each turn repeatin three names. Neist she teen the aspen branches an laid them oot ontae the caal fire grate then placed the nine steens on tap. Takin the flint ‘n’ fleerish fae her aapron pooch she tried wi freezin haans tae garr it spark. It teen a gye fyowe cracks at it afore the oo started tae smoulder and blawin it tae flame she put it aneth the aspen and in nae time the green tinged flames were lickin roon the steens.
  As the aspen burned she said the names o the Laird, the Laird’s son and the factor an cursed them forivver-and-a-day. She keepit this up as she knelt afront the fire until the green flames wint oot.
  Aifter a while Mary teen the steens oot fae the fire an put them intae her shawl. Ower the next couple o oors Mary walked aboot the parish an ivvery noo an then she’d cast awa een o the steens intae a place it wid nivver be found. At each cast she cursed the three names and said “This curse will nivver be lifted until the nine steens are githered eence mair in ae place!”
   Exhausted an freezin Mary made it hame tae her cheer. She thocht tae hersel she micht pray for forgiveness for fit she’d jist deen but thinkin hersel beyond redemption she jist sat an shivered wi the letter in her haan.
  Foo lang she’d been sittin there fin she felt a licht touch ontae her richt shooder she didna ken. She slowly lookit up and saw Daavid staanin there smiling at her the wye he used tae. Mary steed up stiffly wi a gasp an teen her lang lost laddie in her bosie an sabbit oot his name ower an ower again while the saat tears ran doon her aal life-worn chiks. Fin he spoke he sounded exactly the same “Mither I’ve come tae tak ye tae a far better place, nae mair pain Mam life his been faar ower cruel tae ye!”
   The room seemed fulled wi murmuring shadas an here an there she got the glimpse o fit she thocht wiz faces. Fin she lookit at Daavid again the bonny wee servant lassie wiz at his side an sabbin Mary teen her intae her bosie ana..
  Sittin doon in her exhaustion Mary sat an sabbit fit tae brak yer hert. Daavid kneeld doon in front o his mither huddin her haan. Mary stroked his face an said “I canna come wi ye ma laddie for I’ve sinned against God by the turnin o the steens.”
  Daavid smiled an cuddled his Mam sayin “Faa div ye think sent me tae ye? Yer forgiven for ye hinna sinned ava. Fit is gan tae happen tae that three men is comin their wye an they’ll nae be dodgin it.”
  Daavid leaned ower an picked up something fae the fleer an handed it tae her. “Here mither it’s yer beloved bible.”
   A couple o days later Doctor Webster stood in Mary’s room shakin his heed. He’d already written the cause o death as a mixture o starvation and very low temperatures. Mary sat on her chair wi a bonny smile on her face wi a bible on her knee and a letter in her haan. The doctor teen the letter and read it, unusually for him bein a doctor and used tae seein sichts like this he felt the hot tears rin doon his ain chiks. At hame he’d a very similar letter tae this yin tellin him o the death o his only child at Bermuda. He’d contracted the fever fae the sojers he wiz treating and hid died o the same fever.
  Doctor Webster dichtin his een turned tae see the factor and the undertakers wytin wi the pauper’s coffin. Doctor Webster nearly exploded wi anger an roared “Tak you that abomonation fae oot this hoose an bring tae me the very best coffin ye can lay haans on. Lookin doon at Mary said tae the room this isna a pauper’s funeral! This is tae be the funeral o a devoted mither that died o a broken heart!”
   He looked doon an murmured “Thirty five years o unimaginable pain quine!” Turnin in anger he said “See tae it she’s laid tae rest wi aa honours and the best steen siller can buy as her marker!”
  He teen one last look at the wee aal wifie shrunken in death but wi a bonny smile on her face an muttered
“Though I think she’s awa tae a much better place.”

END.

 

copyright © Sanners Gow

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