Eclogue:--A Ghost
_Jem
an'
Dick._
JEM.
This
is
a
darkish
evenèn;
b'ye
a-feärd
O'
zights?
Theäse
leäne's
a-haunted,
I've
a
heärd.
DICK.
No,
I
be'nt
much
a-feär'd.
If
vo'k
don't
strive
To
over-reach
me
while
they
be
alive,
I
don't
much
think
the
dead
wull
ha'
the
will
To
come
back
here
to
do
me
any
ill.
An'
I've
a-been
about
all
night,
d'ye
know,
Vrom
candle-lightèn
till
the
cock
did
crow;
But
never
met
wi'
nothèn
bad
enough
To
be
much
wo'se
than
what
I
be
myzuf;
Though
I,
lik'
others,
have
a-heärd
vo'k
zay
The
girt
house
is
a-haunted,
night
an'
day.
JEM.
Aye;
I
do
mind
woone
winter
'twer
a-zaid
The
farmer's
vo'k
could
hardly
sleep
a-bed,
They
heärd
at
night
such
scuffèns
an'
such
jumpèns,
Such
ugly
naïses
an'
such
rottlèn
thumpèns.
DICK.
Aye,
I
do
mind
I
heärd
his
son,
young
Sammy,
Tell
how
the
chairs
did
dance
an'
doors
did
slammy;
He
stood
to
it--though
zome
vo'k
woulden
heed
en--
He
didden
only
hear
the
ghost,
but
zeed
en;
An',
hang
me!
if
I
han't
a'most
a-shook,
To
hear
en
tell
what
ugly
sheäpes
it
took.
Did
zometimes
come
vull
six
veet
high,
or
higher,
In
white,
he
zaid,
wi'
eyes
lik'
coals
o'
vier;
An'
zometimes,
wi'
a
feäce
so
peäle
as
milk,
A
smileless
leädy,
all
a-deck'd
in
silk.
His
heäir,
he
zaid,
did
use
to
stand
upright,
So
stiff's
a
bunch
o'
rushes,
wi'
his
fright.
JEM.
An'
then
you
know
that
zome'hat
is
a-zeed
Down
there
in
leäne,
an'
over
in
the
meäd,
A-comèn
zometimes
lik'
a
slinkèn
hound,
Or
rollèn
lik'
a
vleece
along
the
ground.
An'
woonce,
when
gramfer
wi'
his
wold
grey
meäre
Wer
ridèn
down
the
leäne
vrom
Shroton
feäir,
It
roll'd
so
big's
a
pack
ov
wool
across
The
road
just
under
en,
an'
leäm'd
his
hoss.
DICK.
Aye;
did
ye
ever
hear--vo'k
zaid
'twer
true--
O'
what
bevell
Jack
Hine
zome
years
agoo?
Woone
vrosty
night,
d'ye
know,
at
Chris'mas
tide,
Jack,
an'
another
chap
or
two
bezide,
'D
a-been
out,
zomewhere
up
at
tother
end
O'
parish,
to
a
naïghbour's
house
to
spend
A
merry
hour,
an'
mid
a-took
a
cup
Or
two
o'
eäle
a-keepèn
Chris'mas
up;
Zoo
I
do
lot
'twer
leäte
avore
the
peärty
'D
a-burnt
their
bron
out;
I
do
lot,
avore
They
thought
o'
turnèn
out
o'
door
'Twer
mornèn,
vor
their
friendship
then
wer
hearty.
Well;
clwose
ageän
the
vootpath
that
do
leäd
Vrom
higher
parish
over
withy-meäd,
There's
still
a
hollow,
you
do
know:
they
tried
there,
In
former
times,
to
meäke
a
cattle-pit,
But
gie'd
it
up,
because
they
coulden
get
The
water
any
time
to
bide
there.
Zoo
when
the
merry
fellows
got
Just
overright
theäse
lwonesome
spot,
Jack
zeed
a
girt
big
house-dog
wi'
a
collar,
A-stannèn
down
in
thik
there
hollor.
Lo'k
there,
he
zaïd,
there's
zome
girt
dog
a-prowlèn:
I'll
just
goo
down
an'
gi'e'n
a
goodish
lick
Or
two
wi'
theäse
here
groun'-ash
stick,
An'
zend
the
shaggy
rascal
hwome
a-howlèn.
Zoo
there
he
run,
an'
gi'ed
en
a
good
whack
Wi'
his
girt
ashen
stick
a-thirt
his
back;
An',
all
at
woonce,
his
stick
split
right
all
down
In
vower
pieces;
an'
the
pieces
vled
Out
ov
his
hand
all
up
above
his
head,
An'
pitch'd
in
vower
corners
o'
the
groun'.
An'
then
he
velt
his
han'
get
all
so
num',
He
coulden
veel
a
vinger
or
a
thum';
An'
after
that
his
eärm
begun
to
zwell,
An'
in
the
night
a-bed
he
vound
The
skin
o't
peelèn
off
all
round.
'Twer
near
a
month
avore
he
got
it
well.
JEM.
That
wer
vor
hettèn
'n.
He
should
a
let
en
Alwone
d'ye
zee:
'twer
wicked
vor
to
het
en.
