Chapter I: Part 1

Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors in the plain English of this text have been silently corrected. In the main the dialect sections they remain as printed including the variation in the use of apostrophe and hyphen. In particular no attempt has been made to resolve how many of the many yan and yah are typos for each other.

The words are only in approximate alphabetical order, this has not been changed.

Italics are represented thus,

The following changes have been made.

AH-WOOA-GE-HEDDER-COME-UP—A nag ’at doesn’t understand its orders is apt ta git t’ whup. We yance watched a chap plewin, an’ he said, “Ah-wooa-ge-hedder-come-up” [was An] till he was stalled, then he let flee wi a clot, coad t’ nag a fiual, an’ telt it ta liuk an see what seck wark it was makkin.

BLODDER—To cry in an effusive way—blodder [was bodder] an’ rooar. What’s ta blodderin aboot?

BRAUN—A wild boar.
“A braun [was braan] ’at hed boddert ’em neet an’ day,
At last, by a butcher, was boldly shot.”—_Bowness._

BREAS—Beck edge. Where t’ fish dark anunder. Whitehead says:
Howks grubs an’ worms fra under t’ breas,
To feed t’ lal [was la] hungry troot.

WIASTRY—Waistfulness. Seck wiastry [was waistry] as yan niver dud see barn; it’s fair shocken.

The following have not been corrected due to ambiguity.

BOTTOM—To get to the origin or foundation. Ah’ll boddum that drain oot first. Boddum that teeal.

[Not clear if all bottom or all boddum.]

KIRMAS-GIFT—Summat fer t’ barns. Varra oft a paper o’ pins ta laik wi’.

KIRSMAS-GLASS—This is fer up-grown ’uns they tak’t warm, wi’ a bit o’ sugar tull ’t.

[Probably identical, but which is correct?]

LAKELAND WORDS.

“The native phrase fresh gathered from the fells.”

LAKELAND WORDS.

A COLLECTION OF

Dialect Words and Phrases,

AS USED IN

CUMBERLAND AND WESTMORLAND,

WITH

ILLUSTRATIVE SENTENCES IN THE NORTH
WESTMORLAND DIALECT.

BY B. KIRKBY.

WITH PREFACE
BY
PROFESSOR JOSEPH WRIGHT, M.A., Ph.D.
OXFORD.

KENDAL:
PRINTED BY T. WILSON, HIGHGATE.
1898.
PRICE 2/6.

“Whate’er of good the old time had was living still.”
_Whittier._

_TO THE WANDERING SONS AND DAUGHTERS
OF THE LAKE COUNTRY,
AND WHO, WHEREVER THEY ARE,
STILL HARBOUR A LOVE FOR THE SOUND OF
“T’ AULD TWANG,”
THIS COLLECTION IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED._

“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none;

* * * * *

This fond attachment to the well known place,
Whence first we started into life’s long race,
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,
We feel it even in age, and at our latest day.”
_Cowper._

“In the power of saying rude truths, sometimes in the lion’s mouth, no men surpass them.”

“The more hearty and sturdy expression may indicate that the savageness of the Norsemen was not all gone.” _Emerson: National Traits._

“That man speaks
Is nature’s prompting, whether thus or thus
She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.”—_Dante._
(Quoted from _Farrar’s Chapters on Language_.)

PREFACE.

It is not necessary to speak many words in praise of such an excellent book as “Lakeland Words,” it speaks for itself, and must appeal to any and every Englishman who loves his country and his native mother tongue.

It has often been said that the vocabulary of the ordinary rustic is but poor and scanty, and it is just such books as Mr. Kirkby’s which show how entirely false this statement is. Mr. Kirkby, besides, is not a mere collector, come down from London with his carpet bag to spend a few weeks in the north to pick up material for “copy,” but he has been born and bred in the country of which he writes, and he knows and understands the dialect as no one from outside could. I have had innumerable proofs of this from the vast amount of most valuable material he has contributed to the English Dialect Dictionary. There is a freshness and naturalness in his material which is not found in books written by people imperfectly acquainted with the people and the district.

In these days when the Board Schools teach the children “Standard English,” and when locomotion is so easy that people readily migrate from one part of the country to another, dialects are rapidly decaying and losing their individuality, and it will soon be impossible to compile local glossaries. It is, therefore, not too much to say that Mr. Kirkby deserves the hearty commendation and thanks of every lover of English, for thus handing down to posterity such a faithful portrait of the language of the Lakeland district, in all its native freshness and richness.

JOSEPH WRIGHT.

OXFORD, JANUARY, 1899.

“Man changes his dialect from century to century.”
_Carlyle._

“Language is a solemn thing I said. It grows out of life—out of its agonies, and ecstacies, its wants and its weariness. Every language is a temple in which the soul of those who speak it is enshrined.... Foreigners who have talked a strange tongue half their lives return to the language of their childhood in their dying hours. Gentlemen in fine linen, and scholars in large libraries, taken by surprise, or in a careless moment, will sometimes let slip a word they knew as boys in homespun, and have not spoken since that time, but it lay there under all their culture. That is one way you may know the country boys.”.... _Oliver Wendell Holmes._

EXPLANATORY.

The following pages claim to do no more than to set forth some of our best known dialect words, and to somewhat explain or illustrate their use by a sentence in which the word is introduced. So may not only the word be preserved, but something also of unity of expression be maintained at the same time.

Much of the matter has gone through the pages of the _Penrith Observer_, in the form of weekly notes. These notes were subject to some criticism. They were the means of eliciting a good deal of help towards making the collection more complete and accurate.

The method of spelling was frequently commented upon as involving an unnecessary innovation. A short explanation will, it is hoped, enable the reader to grasp it. Take such words as _face_, _race_, _place_, with the long _a_. We pronounce them as _fi_ + _as_, _ri_ + _as_, _pli_ + _as_, with a short _i_ sound, and the _a_ short as in _as_. Words like _master_, _plaster_, become _maister_, _plaister_, with the _a_ sounded as in _pay_. The long _o_ sound is a pet aversion. _Home_ becomes _hi_ + _am_, _boat_ as if it were _boo_ + _at_, _poke_ takes the form of _poo_ + _ak_. Such words as _post_ prove our consistency and cause many a one to get laughed at for the hasty _o_ we assign it just as if it were _copy_.

The deep sound of _oo_ shows our perversity. For _ow_ we give it place every time, _hoo_, _thoo_, _doon_, _noo_, _coo_, and just as readily depose it from its legitimate place in _boot_, _soot_, _nook_, _book_, which in turn become _bi_ + _ut_, _si_ + _ut_, _ni_ + _uk_, _bi_ + _uk_. _Go_, _going_, _gone_, we make into _ga_ (when short), _gah_, _gahn_, _gi_ + _an_, and in some extreme instances almost _garn_. Final _ing_ is too affected for us, so we drop it and substitute _en_. _Quiet_ we quietly convert into _whiat_, because _q_ is a pet aversion in all places with us. To give a hint as to the cause of this does not come within our scope. But no one can come closely into contact with the dialect without being struck with this aspect of it. A word like _hope_ we evade or turn it into _hooap_ or _whop_, yet _daup_, _cauf_, _mope_, _crope_, show that we can master the sound if we wish, and stick to it. If we will not say _blue_ except as _blew_, we make up for it in _hoo_ and _noo_. If the _r_ is our aversion, we can, as few others can, say _faddr_, _muddr_, _cluddr_.

Having banished the _ow_ sound from most of its legitimate places in the language, we put it in by way of amends where we can by “any manner o’ means” do so. Thus we have _bowt_ for _bolt_ and _bought_; _browt_ for _brought_; _bowster_ for _bolster_; _cowt_ for _colt_; _thowt_ for _thought_; _dowter_ for _daughter_; and so on.

In the present work no attempt is made to explain or account for anything of a peculiar character in the dialect. If language grows out of life, we are justified in regarding ours as a type, and those who are most familiar with the life out of which it has grown, will be most likely those to regard it most leniently. They will know something of the social habits which the fair and market, the smithy hearth, the shoemaker’s shop are dominating factors in forming. They will understand what it is to be concerned with cattle, and the elements, as others are with more mighty affairs. Out of the exigencies of ploughing, sowing, reaping, and gathering; of boon days and sale days; of shiftings and settlings; of hiring and term times they know what to expect and will not be annoyed by grossness, or deterred by affectations or their absence.

In these circumstances the word collector in Lakeland will find a favourable condition for his operations if he know how to go about it. Nor need he expect because so much of life is taken up with the “struggle for existence” that the gentler and humaner phase of it will not afford him specimens, “tender and true,” as in the most refined circles.

An explanation is due to Cumbrians, who will find in this collection words they did not expect, and will find omitted those they had anticipated seeing. In many matters the two counties are indeed what they are often termed—sisters. The words have largely been collected in North Westmorland, but it must be borne in mind that Penrith, to many, is to all intents as much as if it were in Westmorland, and to have given one county only in the title would have been misleading and far from accurate. This observation will apply to “Kendal side” of Westmorland too.

Doctor Milner Fothergill says, “that up to Orton in Westmorland, the speech is that of Lancashire; beyond its scar it is that of Cumberland.” The genial, hearty doctor was too generous, and Cumberland as well as Lancashire would disclaim his kindness. Likeness there is no doubt towards the north, or towards the south, as the case may be, and the fells mark a cleavage more distinct than some imaginary boundary of counties, yet Westmorland men will never be prepared to be so quietly effaced until a much greater extinction of dialect speech takes place than has yet been effected, much as latter-day influences have done towards modifying its most prominent features.

In the present work, such as it is, the help of Mr. Daniel Scott, editor of the _Penrith Observer_, has to be acknowledged, also that of “Northerner” in the same journal. The Rev. J. S. Davidson, the Rev. M. B. Parker, Mr. R. E. Leech, M.A., Mr. John Harrison, Mr. Jas. Rennison, Mr. Jos. Graves, Mr. Wm. Kerr, Miss Hunter, Miss Rudd, Mrs. Fauldrew, Mr. A. Whitehead, and Mr. C. R. Farrer, with a number of correspondents in various parts, whose names never transpired, have given generous help to make the collection as comprehensive as possible. Also a very able and representative body of critics was soon _en evidence_ to see that it was as correct as possible. The Rev. Canon Thornley, the Rev. John Wharton, and Professor Joseph Wright, M.A., were amongst those to whose suggestions is due the fact of a permanent form being given to what at first was only intended as a passing notice.

To Mr. Wilson, of Kendal, I am under the special obligation of the adventurer who has help just when and where it is most wanted. From him it has ever been an easy and pleasant task to obtain advice and counsel without stint of pains or sympathy. With his aid and discrimination, many otherwise insurmountable obstacles have been overcome. Without his aid nothing of the present form could have been as much as attempted.

It is earnestly hoped that the rough and ready treatment of the subject herein attempted will not in any way interfere with any of the more thorough works dealing with the same subject now in course of preparation by those capable of treating it from all standpoints as specialists. Ours is the effort to present an inside view of the dialect, marred no doubt by the leanings of prejudice, and for its worst defects the only indulgence that is asked is that it may be judged with that consideration kept in mind. It is a lover’s account, and as such must be excused.

B. KIRKBY.

Batley, 1898.

LAKELAND WORDS AND SAYINGS.

AARON’S ROD—It grows e’ t’ garden.

ABACK—Behind; in the absence of; over some land-mark or another. Thus, a cap hangs up aback o’ t’ door; a tale may be told about some one aback of his back; and another comes frae aback o’ t’ fells.

ABACK-O-BEYONT—The place from which comes nothing but mystery and terror for barns; neea body’s bin an’ come back to say whar it ligs.

ABIDE—Put up wi’; ah can’t abide mucky fooak.

ABREED—Level, equal, broadcast. They war walken o’ abreed.

ACOCK—Hay that is cocked up in “fiut cocks,” or, “gurt cocks”; something that is set finely, and evenly balanced; ready and eager for a fratch; a hat put on sideways; put out of temper; glib.

ACOCKINECKS—Where most youthful jockeys make their first attempt at riding, namely, across the father’s neck; and later on in life as a schoolboy’s game. To ride acockinecks is regarded as fine enough for anyone.

ACOS—For the reason; because. “What for dud thoo punch at my shins?” “Acos Ah thowt Ah wad see what thoo wad say if Ah dud.”

ACROSS—Met with. Ah com across an auld nebbur er tweea.

ACROOK—Crooked. When t’ maut gits intul a chap’s legs an’ he gahs across t’ rooad he’s gaan acriukt.

ADDLE—Earn. In the sense of the word as now used in literature, “addle” has none but an exactly opposite meaning. To earn; to turn to good account; to make a living; it has nothing to do with barrenness, corruption, or rottenness. How Addle, Addlepate, Addle-head, Addle-brain, and so forth have sprung from so respectable an origin can only be conjectured.

ADDLIN’, ADDLINS—Earning; wages. “Is ta addlin owt much?” “Siavin’s good addlin.” “His addlins divn’t come to mich.” “He taks miast of his addlins hiam tul his wife an’ barns.” Like Addle, Addlin’, and Addlins are of good repute in Lakeland lore.

AFRONT—Before. He was on afront.

AFORE—In front of; before. A gurt dub o’ watter afooar t’ door. Winter’s come afooar it time.

AFORETIME—Previously: the old days. They’d hed some bother afooartime about t’ sheep an’ t’ dykes. Afooartime yan used ta be prood o’ some good poddish fer yan’s supper.

AFOREHAND—Done before; he had his rent ready afooarhand.

AGREE—Amiss, crossways. T’ auld piase-eggers wad sing:

If ye give us nowt we’ll tak nowt agree,
But we’ll gang and sail owld England’s sea.

AGGLE AN’ JAGGLE—To higgle over a bargain; a bit o’ fendin an’ priuvin’ ower owt.

AGATE—Started; abusing; out of the way. “Hev ye gitten agiat mowin’?” T’auld beggar’s allus agiat o’ yan er anudder on us blackin’ an’ gaan on. Ye’ve gian a lang way agiat.

AGATEWARDS—Towards the gate. Said by some to be a relic from the times when savage dogs rendered it necessary for the visitor to be “set” by “t’ fauld yat.” Another and an older reason than savage dogs still keeps the custom of “settin’ yan anudder agateards” alive, and is likely to do, so long as lads and lasses care for one another’s company.

AIBLINS—Possibly. Will ye gang o’ Sunday? Aiblins ah may.

AH-WOOA-GE-HEDDER-COME-UP—A nag ’at doesn’t understand its orders is apt ta git t’ whup. We yance watched a chap plewin, an’ he said, “Ah-wooa-ge-hedder-come-up” till he was stalled, then he let flee wi a clot, coad t’ nag a fiual, an’ telt it ta liuk an see what seck wark it was makkin.

AHINT—Behind. Allus keep ahint a shutter. Thoo can git on ahint me an’ hev a ride. We’re a lang way ahint wi oor wark.

AJYE—O’ yah side as some fooak weear their hats.

AIM, AIMED—Intend, intended. We didn’t aim ye to know. Ah’d aimed ye to stop an’ hev a cup o’ tea.

AIR, AIRED—To warm or dry. Air t’ bed; air mi shirt. A drop of aired milk.

AIRIN’—Showing off. He was arin’ hissel oot in his majesty.

AKEEN—Related. They’re nowt akeen ta yan anudder. Siam as Rag Mary, akeen ta o’ t’ gurt fooak.

ALLODIN—Not in regular employment, but looking for an engagement. This is a gay auld farrand word an’ taks us back a lang way.

ALLY-COM-PANNY—A game.

Rhyme—Ally-com-panny
When ’ll ta marry?
When apples and peers is ripe
Ah’ll come ta thi wedden,
Without any bidden,
An’ dance wi t’ bride at night!

ALL-OWERISH—A feeling of general weakness or ailment. Ah nobbut feel a bit o’ owerish ta-day, ah’s o’ ower alike.

ALLEY—An alabaster marble, with which boys play. Hoo many marvels hes thoo? Ten potteys and three alleys.

ALLEY—A passage between the rows of seats in a hall or building. We can walk doon t’ alley.

ALAG—Leaning; on one side. That hoose side’s varra mich alag. T’carful o’ hay gat o alag. Set t’stee mair alag, _i.e._ give it a bit more “skatch.”

ALAG—A “call” used when necessary to disturb a flock of geese.

ALLAY—Guarantee. Allay yer tired? It is used frequently to affirm an answer that is anticipated.

AMPLE-ORDER—In perfect condition and ready. O’s e’ ample order fer t’ weddin.

AMANG-HANDS—In the midst of other and various duties. We’re thrang wi t’ hay and howin’ turnips amang-hands. She was weshen’, an’ biaken’, an’ singen’ amang-hands fer t’ barns.

ANEATH—Below. Price o’ floor’s a gay bit aneath what it yance was.

ANENT—Alongside. He could shear his rig anent a man. Directly opposite. We sat anent yan anudder.

ANO—Too; as well. Thee gang wi us ano.

ANKLE-BANDS, ANKLE-BELTS, ANKLE-STRAPS—Shoes or slippers provided with a strap to fasten around the ankle to keep them on. Fer dancin’ in thers nowt better ner a pair o’ ankle straps.

ANKLE-JACKS—Shoes that come over the ankle, and which have a long front quarter, like those worn by soldiers. He’d a pair o’ ankle jacks fer t’ Sundays.

ANGRY—Nay, nut mad, ner vexed, but inflamed an’ sair like a kin, er a frozen teea. This word illustrates the divergence there is in the use of words in the literary and dialect senses.

ANTRES—In case; providing. Tak yer top cooat antres it rains.

ANUNDER—Beneath. Did thoo see that fish gang anunder t’ breea?

A-NAG-BACK, A-FIUT—Are ye gaan a-nag-back, er ye’ll gang afiut? Riding or walking. Afoot is also often used to signify well, and up afiut.

APODE—Ah’s warn’t; dare be bund; daresay. Ye’ve hed some fash wi’ that barn, Ah’ll apode it ye hev.

APRIL-GOWK—April-fool. A person who is betrayed into some senseless errand, or action, and then informed that he’s an April gowk and that it is the first of April.

APPLE-PIE-ORDER—Neatly arranged. We’ve o’ e’ apple-pie-order fer sitten doon ta t’ tea.

ARCH-WHOL—A hole in the wall of a building in which sparrows build and light and air pass through.

ARK—Meal chest.

Many hands mak’ leet’ wark
An’ many mooths a tium ark.

ARM-WHOL—The arm pits. Ah’s as sair as can be i’ t’ arm-whol. The opening in a coat or waistcoat through which the arm is passed.

ARRALS—A skin disease, also known as ring-worm, and said to be contracted by contact with cattle. Ah’ve t’ arrals on mi arm, an’ Ah want some copperas ta puzzen it wi’.

ARRANT—Thoroughly bad. He’s an arrant auld slenk.

ARRAN’-WEB—Cobweb. T’ baulks was hung wi’ arran’ webs.

ARR, ARR’D—Scar or seam left on the skin by a wound or disease. He’d a gurt ugly arr on his broo whar t’ nag hat him. It maks fooak varra kenspeckle when they’re seea pock arr’d.

ART—Quarter. What art’s t’ wind in? It’s in a wet art. What art er ye frae? This yan’s a gem o’ purest watter an’ varra near as auld as oor auld hills an’ whols. Lang let it stop.

ARVAL-BREAD—Loaves distributed at funerals.

ARVAL-SUPPER—An entertainment or feast given at funerals.

AS TIGHT—As well. Thoo mud as tight whissle as sing.

AS LEAVE—As soon. Ah’ as leave gang as stop.

AREED—Solve; guess. Areed me this riddlin.

ASS-TRUG—See ass-boord.

ASS—Ashes, an’ ashes is burnt muck, cinders, er owt else ’at’s bin throo t’ fire.

ASS, AX—Ask. Ass that body fer a drink o’ milk.

ASIDE—Near. Whar’s t’ cowrak? It’s clooas aside o’ ye.

ASIDE—Ta “ride aside” means to ride as t’ ladies do—aside. Ta sit o’ yah side o’ t’ nag nobbut; they’ve saddles a purpose fer t’ job i’ some spots.

ASK—An ask’s a lizzard; ther’s yan i’ t’ pond.

ASKATCH—In rearing a ladder against a wall if the bottom is set well from the wall “it’s far eneuf askatch.” One who stands with his feet apart, or walks with them well set out has plenty o “skatch.”

ASS, ASSED, ASSINS—Them ’ats gaan ta git wedded know gaily weel, marry, what it is ta be assed. Ass some o’ them, an’ they’ll liuk as sheepish as asses.

ASS-CAT—A chap ’at croodles ower ’t fire when it’s a bit cauld is an ass-cat. As grey as an ass-cat—_i.e._ a cat ’at cronks under t’ ass-whol, an’ gits mucky wi’ burnt muck.

ASS-BOORD—A chap was tellin’ anudder what a ass-boord is, an’ he said it was a sooart of a wheel-barrow, nobbut it hed neea trunnle, neea legs, an’ neea stangs tult, an’ it was used ta gedder muck in. He mud a bin farder rang.

ASS-GRATE—An iron grate ’at fits t’ ass-whol, an’ keeps t’ barns frae tummelin’ in.

ASS-MIDDEN—T’ heap o’ burnt muck. Nearly ivvery hoose hes yan tul itsel, an’ varra few fooak but sailors ivver git a mile away frae yan o’ somebody’s.

ASS-MUCK—Ivverybody knows what ass-muck is; it izzant up ta mich fer nowt.

ASS-NIUK—In miast hooses there’s t’ hood niuk, an’ t’ ass-niuk yut, but ther nut what they used ta be, an’ ther gitten grand neeams for them. Ther’s nin o’ them can beat oors yut, we’ll stick ta er awn auld ass-niuk a bit langer.

ASS-WHOL—T’ gurt whol i’ t’ fleear whar t’ burnt muck drops intul oot ’at t’ fire.

ASSLE-TOOTH—A cruncher or molar is an assle-tiuth, an’ it’s grand when yan o’ them warks i’ t’ neet when yan sud be asleep.

ASSLE-TREE—Ivvr’y cart wheel has yan tul itsel, and revolves on it’s awn assle-tree, an’ that’ll be what t’ world gahs on it’s awn axis for I expect.

ASSOON—To fo assoon ’s a bad sign. It means yer wankly, or else ye’ve hed a gay hard knock ower t’ cannister, an’ it’s miad ye faint, an’ silly.

ASLANT—Sloping, it izzant thunner rain, it co’s aslant.

ASTRADDLE—Astride, siam as Rag Mary used ta ride on a stick, an’ somebody sed tul her, “What, yer ridin’ ta-day, Mary?” “Aye,” sez Mary, “but it’s nobbut t’ niam o’ t’ thing.”

ASTOOP—Bent with age, pain, or labour. He begins ta gang sair astoop, is said with a sympathetic tone that often implies much when tokens of decay are discerned.

ASWINT—Streck across frae yah corner tul annuder, yan sometimes gahs aswint a pasture; an’ yah auld chap used ta tell t’ tial aboot anudder ’at ’cot his pie crust aswint an’ t’ maister tel’t him he “was warse ner a ninny-hammer to cut his crust aswint.”

ATTER—A spider.

ATTER-COB—A spider’s web.

ATTER-MITE—A lal spider on t’ watter.

AT, ET, IT, UT—That; who; which. That’s t’ rooad ’at leads ta Peerith. Yon dog’s an auld slenk, ’et is ’t. He went t’ way ’it he thowt best. It izzant allus fer t’ best ’ut yan does things.

ATWINE—Oot ov a streyt line, owder up a hill, er doon yan.

ATWIST—When yan’s fishin’ tome gits hankled siam as threed.

ATWEEN—Between. Nivver thee gang atween neeabody ats feiten, let them feit it oot says Ah.

AUMRY—The office or lodgings of the almoner; also the place where the alms are given; a pantry.

AVERISH—Greedy, or hungry and eating in a guiversome manner. Tak thi time an’ divn’t be seea averish.

AVISED—Black-avised like a man that gits oot o’ bed on t’ wrang side, or gets his fias smeared with grime. A good old standing phrase that often hits off a description when more refined expressions would fail.

AW-MACKS—Goodstuff of mixed varieties. A ho’perth o’ aw-macks.

AWN, AWNY—The beard of barley, awny wheat, &c.

AWOVVER—An affirmation. Ah wadn’t deea seea, awovver.

AWMUS—An awmus dish is what they tak t’ toll in at t’ market, but what aboot t’ mooths like an awmus? Lads at t’ skiul when they want ta beg a bite o’ yan anudder’s apple, er peer, as’ fer an awmus. It’s becos it’s a sooart ov a takkin’ an’ givin’ nowt back, like miast o’ tolls, Ah reckon.

AWVISH—Seekly an’ silly, like a fellow at’s bin on t’ rant.

AYONT—Beyond. We set him a lang way ayont t’ fower rooad-ends.

AYE—Fer ivver an’ ivver an’ aye means a gay lang while.

AYE—Aye, whia, what noo? Aye of course means “yes,” but it means a lot more. It asks questions and answers them, as well as puts them by. One well skilled in humanity’s little traits tells us that the use of this monosyllable will stick to a man longer than any other, and he could locate a man’s origin by it’s use to a few miles. Aye’s a lal un, but it’s a sticker.

BAIT—Grain ov a booard that’s yah mak o’ bait.

BACK-CAN—A can to strap on the back an’ carry milk in.

BACK-END—That is autumn.

BACKIN—Cotton wool; cotton backin. Neea doot becos it does fer backin up hollow pleeaces. Ass a tailior or a manty-makker.

BACON-COLLOP—A bacon-collop an’ a pint o’ coffee—hoo’s that fer a dish?

BACON-FLICK—A picture ta hing up in a chimly niuk. It’s miad oot ov a pig’s carcase when it’s been fed weel an’ butched.

BACK-SET—To throw backwards in growth or improvement. To be forced or fast. He gat cauld an’ it gev him a back-set. We’re back-set an’ fooar-set, an’ can’t stir a pin.

BARK—Skin. T’ sun’s burnt o’ t’ bark off mi nooas.

BACK-SIDE—Behind the house. Come an’ laik i’ oor back-side. The hinder parts.

BASH—A nasty ugly wallop. It catcht me a bash fair i’ t’ ee.

BACON-STAVE—A plaster made from a bacon collop. Anybody wi a sair throat try yan, an’ sleep wi’ ’t on.

BACKSTUN, BACKSTUN-CAKE, BACK’US—Ah fancy t’ “bake-stone” ’s aboot oot o’ date, nobbut at haver-breed time, but a backstun-ciak ’s as good, if it is biaked on t’ girdle. Thers backs as briad as a backstun, an’ mooths as wide as a backus door.

BAD—Past of bid. He bad a ten pun nooat fer t’ Galloway.

BADGER—See batch-carrier. A buyer up of eggs an’ butter.

BADGER—Brow-beat. He pot up wi’ ther tricks as lang as they did nowt nobbut badger him.

BADGER—“As grey ’s a badger” ’s a common sayin’ wi’ them as hez nivver seen yan.

BAD-WORD—Abuse. He gat t’ bad-word fra t’ maister.

BADLY—Ill. As many a lad’s bin wi’ his first pipe o’ bacca er pint o’ yal. It’s cappin how lads ’ll punish thersels to “smell like a man,” as yan o’ them yance sed.

BAIN—T’ nearest way to a place, or to do a job. It’s as bain be t’ rooad. That ’ll be t’ bainest way o’ deein it.

BARKT—Bruised. Ah barkt mi shins again t’ deur step.

BAIT—A meal, or refreshments. A scholar’s lunch. To feed horses whilst they are working; or herd t’ kye i’ t’ looanen’s as they’re garn tult t’ paster, is ta let them bait.

BALDERDASH—Queer talk. Thoo talks nowt nobbut a heap o’ balderdash. It izzant exactly leein’, but riapin’ on wi’ a lot o kelderment ’ats neea truth it ’t, an’ less good.

BAWTY-BAWT—Dog name.

BAGS—Entrails.

BACK-WATTER—In financial straits. It’s best ta keep oot o’ back-watter. An’ a mill wheel’s i’ back-watter when it’s tail bund wi’ a fliud.

BAG-’O-TRICKS, BOILIN’, BUNCH, BUNDLE—These o’ mean yah thing—an’ that is o’ t’ lot. Git oot o’ mi giat o’ t’ bag o’ tricks on ye. They’re varra oft used wi’ nut mich sense at o’.

BAIRNEY, BAIRNISH—Old age childishness.

BAMBOOZLE—Kick’t aboot an’ bamboozl’d wi’ iv’ry yan o’ them. Miad gam on.

BAND—Tether. He’s hed ower mich band.

BAND—A high place on a hill—Silver Band on Crossfell, Bowfell Band, &c.

BALKS—Thrown ower t’ balks—ass’d ta’ t’ Kirk; spurr’d; garn to be wedded.

BALKS-HEN—Whar t’ hens roost.

BANDY-LEGGED—Short legged, and bowed.

BANE—Ah yance fand a lal bottle, an’ t’ auld woman said it hed rattan bane in. Ah guess it war puzzan.

BARE—Scrimpy; hardly. It’s bare weight. It’s bare three mile ta Shap.

BARGEST—An uncanny visitant often talked about but seldom seen or heard. One who has the power of foretelling the demise of others. One who makes an unearthly din. Shut up, thoo gurt bargest, thoo! Lal ’uns ’at’s aboot ther teeth er oft telt ta be whiat an’ gah ta sleep, er t’ bargest ’ll tak them, an’ seea they allus think o’ t’ bargest as summat flaysome.

BARKEN—To clot like blood on a bandage, or to “set in” like dirt on the skin.

BARLEY—Ween a lad wants ta claim t’ dumplin end he says, “barley me t’ dumplin end, mudder,” an’ neea body else hez any chance tult. Ther’s a lot a things i’ this world ’at yan wad like ta barley.

BARNS—Youngsters.

BATE—To take from a stated price. Te banter. He wad’nt bate a ho’penny. Ah couldn’t bate him a plack.

BATED—Ceased. T’ rain’s nivver bated a bit sen it started.

BATCH—A sack of meal. A baking of bread—barley-meal. Nowt’s sweeter ner a bit o’ het batch-ciak, buttered.

BATCH—Bundle; number; band. Ah’ll feit o’ t’ batch for a quart o’ yal. Ther’s a batch o’ rattans o’ tagidder. They o’ went i’ yah batch.

BATCH-CARRIER—A miller’s carter. Ivv’ry-body’s hed a ride wi’t’ batch-carrier amang his batches at some turn er anudder.

BARK—A can ta hod can’les in.

BATTER—An embankment.

BARNEY—A deceitful transaction in trade or in sport.

BARNEY-DOO—A made up thing. Two wrestlers who do not fairly contest, but agree which is to fell, are said to mak a barney-doo on ’t. Neea body likes a barney-doo ower weel, ’speshally if they’ve owt on.

BARROW, BARROW-COAT—What they don lal babbies in ta keep ther bits o’ legs an’ bodies warm.

BASIL—A sheep’s skin dressed into leather, for the aprons of smiths, shoemakers, &c.

BASH—A hurry. He was gaan ower t’ fell at seck a bash.

BASHED—Broken by force. He bashed t’ lid off wi’ his clog. He gat his teeth bashed doon his throat.

BASS—Rushes, seck as they use ta boddum chairs wi.

BAT-I-BO—Pize-bo. Ah fancy sum ’ll ken best, but it’s o’t siam t’ lads knows when it’s time to laik at it, whedder it’s bat-i-bo, pize-bo, or tennis.

BAT-STREEA—Thrash with a flail, an’ net deea’t ower hard, seea as ther’ll be summat left in fer t’ nags er t’ kye.

BAT—The forward stroke a mower strikes each time with his scythe. A blow. A winged animal. A high speed—an’ a lot mair things too numerous to mention.

BAT—Alighted. Mi feet shot oot frae anunder mi, an’ Ah bat fair o’ mi heed an’ shooders.

His neck oot o’ joint, an’ his beaynes were aw broken,
When at t’ bottom he bat wi’ tremendous crash.—_Whitehead._

BAT-AN’-BREED—The ground that a mower covers with each stroke of his scythe, bat being in front of him and breed on each side. He could tak’ a ter’ble bat an’ a famous gurt breed an’ aw.

BANG, BANGIN-ABOOT—Clatter. He flang him doon wi’ a ter’ble bang. Bangin-aboot means when t’ pots an’ things are skifted wi’ somebody ’at’s in a bit ov a hig aboot summat an’ maks a lot o’ noise an’ show.

BANGED—Beat. “They bang’d o’ t’ player fooak twenty ta yan.”

BANG INTULT—Bang intult an git it ower, when a hard day’s darrak’s in front o’ yan, t’ best way to gang aboot it—bang intult.

BARK—A short troublesome cough. Thoo’ll be barken o’ neet.

BANG UP AN’ DOON—A chap ’at’s ebben up an’ doon in o’ his ways an’ dealins wi’ his nebburs is sometimes said ta be a bang up an’ doon chap, an’ it’s a blessin’ ’at ther’s a lot left amang us.

BANDYLAN—A woman wi a queer character—nobbut.

BANNOCKS—Skons made out of barley-meal. Cat ran ower t’ rannel balks eatin mewlded bannocks. If ye can say that ower fast, a few times yer nut drunk.

BAR-OOT—At breckin’ up time fer t’ helidays lads know what ta deea—bar t’ maister oot:

Bar him oot, bar him oot,
Bar him oot wi’ a pin;
Gie’s a month heliday
Er we’ll nivver let ye in.

BAR-O—Lads when they’re laikin’ at marvels say bar-o, an’ they mean it.

BARLEY-SUGAR—A sugar stick. Try a child with a stick of barley sugar.—_Ruskin._

BARFIN—A horse collar. A grand thing is a barfin ta gurn throo.

BARNEY-BRIG, BORO’-BRIG, BABYLON—A children’s game.

Hoo many miles ta Barney Brig?
Three scooar and ten.
Can I get there by candle-light?
Yes, and back again.
Any sticks or stones on the way?
Yes, both. How can I get over?
Put your heels aback o’ your neck
And then jump over.

BARBARY-BARK—A cure fer t’ jawness, an’ that’s a complaint ’at theer’s some queer remedies fer.

BARE-GAWPS—Young crows er cheepers.

BARE-PELT—Your birthday suit.

BANE—An industrious, diligent, persevering man. He’s varra bane awovver.

BANG-HANDED—Same as backwards-way-aboot; a left-handed awkward way of doing anything.

BACK-HANDED-WIPE—A way o’ wipin yans nooas when yans in a hurry an’ neea pocket necklath handy.

BACK-AN-EDGE—Completely. Nay! it’s gone back-an-edge.

BACK-HOD—A door cheek, er owt ta set yer back again when it warks wi’ stoopin’.

BANKER—What masons dress flags on, an’ farmers buy pigs wi’. They’re as useful as owt ye can hev in t’ hoose is a few bankers, sez oor Betty.

BARLEY-SEED-TIME—A sulky man ’at hings his boddum lip when things don’t suit him is said ta hing a lip like an auld meear i’ barley seed time.

BAUM—Baum tea, t’ grandest thing oot fer a sweet when ye’ve a bad cauld er a good ’un.

BAND-KIT—A gurt can wi’ a lid on.

BABBLE—A lie, or to lie, but babble is nicer fer t’ barns.

BAFFLE—Confuse; discredit; cross-question. He telt his tial as streck as a seeve, neeabody could baffle him.

BACK’ARDS-WAY-ABOUT—A chap ’at gangs about his wark in an awkward fashion, an’ does a lot on’t twice ower is said ta gang t’ back’ards-way-aboot.

BACK-HAND—Deceitful dealing. It’s a back-hand trick.

BACK-HANDER—A blow with the knuckles, and the hand not clenched.

BACK-BAND—The chain with which a cart shafts are held up. Fassen t’ backban’, tweea off.

BACK-HAULD—To wrestle with the contestants behind one another, instead of facing. An attitude allowed to balance inequality in skill or strength. Ah can wrussle thee back-hauld.

BABBLEMENT—Silly discourse, partly lees.

BAIST—To beat severely.

BAWTRY-STICK—A piece of elder wood worn in the pocket as a charm against the power of witches.

BAWTRY-JOHNNY—Elder wine.

BAGGISH—Ket; muckment; bad lads er lasses. Thoo’s nowt but a impident baggish.

BAY—To bend.

BALK—A joist; a weigh-beam; a strip of land; a piece which the plough has not turned over; to disappoint. He was yan o’ this sooart ’at nivver balkt his fancy, but sed just what he thowt.

BATTEN—A thick plank.

BATTIN—A bundle of straw done up by the thrasher.

BACKENIN’—A putting backward, as frost put ’taties back i’ June.

BACK-WORD—When yan’s hired an’ izzant gaan on wi’ ’t, yan hez ta send back-word; seeam wi’ t’ tailor when ye du’t want a suit ye’ve been mezzer’d for.

BED-GOON—It’s nowt to deea wi’ sleepin, but it is a nice leet print waist fer women ta weer i’ summer.

BEDLAM-HOOSE—Whar they’re makken a gurt nurration it’s war ner a bedlam-hoose.

BESSY-CLOCK—The seed of the dandelion, blown off to find out the time, so many puffs for each hour.

BESSY-CLOCKER—Black beetle. Kill a bessy-clocker an’ it ’ll rain.

BEVEL—A violent push or blow.

BELYVE—Afooar sa long.

BEAUTY-BEUT—Dog name.

BEUST or BUST—To put a mark or brand upon sheep.

BETIMES—Occasionally. Betimes he’s queer as Dick hat band.

BECK-AN’-FELL—A wide district. He owns o’ t’ land ’tween t’ beck an’ t’ fells.

BEGYANE—Taken aback. I was begyane when Ah hard tell about it.

BELDER, BELDER-KITE—Same as bellarin’. What’s ta beldern at?

BETTERMER—Superior. Bettermer mack o’ fooak. Bettermer hat an’ seea on.

BEN’, BEND—A hide of sole leather.

BEND—Turn. Bend o’ t’ arm, &c. Ther’s fooak that stupid they’ll breck siuner ner they’ll bend, they’re that heedstrang.

BENDY-LEATHER—Ice that bends when skating over it. Bendy-leddur nivver brecks in—nobbut sometimes.

BENEATH—To demean oneself by contact, or dealings with. Ah wadn’t beneath misel wi’ thi.

BEILD—A shelter. T’ wood’s a grand beild for t’ hoose. Ther’s net a bit o’ beild o’ neea mak ner shap for t’ kye.

BENSLE—Thrash. Ah’ll bensle thi jacket thoo young taistrel.

BENSLIN—Thrashing. We played trewin, an’ t’ maister gav us seck a benslin.

BERE, BIGG—Barley. Tweea lads war laikin’ at wishin’. T’ first wanted nowt but—

“Bigg breed dipt i’ collop fat
An’ swing o’ t’ day o’ Grayrigg Fell yat.”

T’other wadn’t wish at o’, beccs becos Jim hed gitten o’ t’ good things.

BESOM, BESOM-HEED—A rough careless lass is a gurt mucky besom, and a silly chap’s a besom-heed.

BETHINK, BETHOUGHT—Remember. Ah can’t bethink me ov his reason.

BEWL—The handle of a bucket, can, pan, or pail. T’ bewl’s het.

BEZEL—To drink greedily. He wad bezel as much yal as wad swum a ship.

BEZ’LIN—Drinking greedily. He was nivver reet nobbut when he was bez’lin yal doon his neck.

BEZ’LED—The effect of heavy drinking. His nooas was bez’led.

BENT—Coarse fell grass.

BELK—An eructation. That is, it’s a rift efter eatin’ ower mich.

BELKER—Something that’s big. That taty’s a belker.

BELKEN-FULL—When yan’s hed ower mich poddish.

BELKEN-INTULT—A chap ’at gahs intul his wark as if he liked it.

BELKIN’—A tannin’. Thoo’ll catch a belkin’ fer this.

BELLY-WARK—This sometimes comes wi’ eatin’; back-wark wi’ workin’; heed-wark wi’ drinkin’; lug-wark; tiuth-wark; shooder-wark; een-wark; an’ ivverything aboot yan warks bi’ times but t’ tongue. Thi tongue nivver warks—Ah’ve bin telt that scores o’ times.

BETTER-NER-GOOD—Varra kind. Yer better-ner-good Ah’s sewer.

BERRY, BERRY-BREAD, BERRY-CAKE—Gooseberries. “I saw the dairy of one, half filled with the berry-bread, (large flat-baked cakes enclosing layers of gooseberries) prepared by its mistress for her shearers.”—_Ruskin “Fors Clavigera.”_

BERRY-SHAG—Ass a lad ’ats bin noppin berries fer his mudder what he expects as siun as t’ pan boils.

BETTER—More than. He’s better ner a year auld.

BETTER-LEG—Many a yan says when they’re in a gurt hurry “Noo Ah mun put t’ better leg t’ first,” but if ye nobbut hinted ’at they’d tweea odd legs ye wad git some sauce frae them.

BEETLE-BATTLE—Bray a hard shirt soft.

BEAL—The lowing of cattle; crying; noise made by the wind. Ah’ll gie thi summut ta beal aboot.

BEALEN—Howling.

“Ya dismal, dark December neet,
When t’ wind in t’ chimley sood,
Com bealen doon of Cross Fell heets
A helm rough and loud.”—_Whitehead._

BEALED—To call out through fear. Summat fell afront on him an’ he fair bealed oot.

BELLAR—A bull bellars when it wants to be queer. A barn whingen is bellarin’.

BEARDED—“The bright and bearded barley.” It’s t’ awns o’ wheat, er barley, an’ seck an’ seck like.

BEARDED-WALL—A wall that has a thickness of sod on the top in which thorns are placed to keep cattle in er oot. We’d to git ower a bearded wo. “For bearding the Kirk-garth wo” forms one item in Morland Church Accounts.

BEASTINGS—The milk from a newly calved cow; there’s war things ner a beastin’ puddin’.

BEAT—To feed a fire with sticks, or turf, er owt else.

“His words of weight act like a charm,
On frozen hearts, and beat them warm.”—_Whitehead._

BEESE, BEEAS—Cows. Gang an’ fetch t’ beeas in ta milk.

BED, BEDDING, BEDDIN’-UP—Bed t’ swine-hull wi’ saw-come. Breckins is good for beddin’. He was beddin’-up t’ nags.

BESSY-DOOKER—A watter bird wi’ a black back an’ a white breest. It dooks i’ t’ watter as it shuts away when it’s flayed.

BECK—Stream. A Lakeland lad ’ll know summat aboot a beck, Ah dar be bund, wharivver ye see him.

“To think how poets wi’ their sangs,
Their minds sud seea perplex,
’Bout Eden, Lune, the Tyne, and Tees,
An’ scwores o’ mucky becks.”—_Whitehead._

BECK STEPS—Stepping stones. T’ beck steps is oot o’ seet—that’s when ther’s a fliud on. Yah auld chap ’at hed ta gang ower t’ steps when t’ beck was oot, said his prayers an’ set off, but he sez, “Ah’s gaan bi t’ boddum.”

BELLIKIN—An immoderate eater or drinker—a gurt brossen bellikin.

BELLOCK—To eat hastily or greedily. He wad bellock his dinner doon, an’ off ta laik.

BELL-TINKER—A rattle on t’ side o’ t’ heed as oft as owt. But ther’s lots o’ things ’at’s co’ed bell-tinker.

BELLY-BAND—A girth. Fassen t’ belly-ban’.

BELLY-OUT—To project. That hoose wo bellys oot a lot mair ner I like.

BELLAS’D—Ah’s aboot bellas’d. That’s when a chap’s puff’s gian, er his leet’s aboot oot.

BELLYS—Lungs. Mi bellys is diun.

BELLY-TIMMER—Food. See ’at thoo gits thi share o’ belly-timmer.

BELLY-GOD—Yan ’at likes a lot o’ good tommy an’ things ta eat er drink.

BIAN-FIRE—A fire out of doors to burn up refuse.

BIAN-FIRE-DAY—The fifth of November; an’ lauve hoo we used ta watch for ’t an’ trail whins an seck.

BIDDABLE—Obedient, as a biddable child.

BIGGIN—A building.

BITE, BIGHT—A bend in a river.

BIDDY—A louse.

BICKER—A wood pot seck as they sarra hens in, I fancy. Chap sed he’d supt a bickerful o’ soor milk.

BICKER—Nags bicker when they’re ower weel coorn’, an’ lal ’uns bicker when they want ta walk.

BIDDEN—Invited to attend a funeral. Er ye bidden?

BIDDING-ROUND—The circle fixed and prescribed by ancient custom within which it is usual to “bid” or “ass” t’ nebburs to a funeral.

BINK—A stone bench or seat by the kitchen door, on which are placed various dairy utensils to “sweeten.” [To Captain Markham, of Morland, I am indebted for a copy of an extract of an inventory “of the goods of Thomas Bland, of Sleagill, A.D. 1664—item, chaires, stooles, cushions, table with binke and trough.”] From the opinions expressed by correspondents the word would also seem to bear the meaning of “bank,” or “bed”; a raised up flower-bed under a window.

BIN, BING—A corn chest with separate divisions.

BILLY, Net a goat, ner William, but t’ gurt lang spiad ’at a drainer howks clay oot wi—his billy and his how.

BILL-HOOK—A bill-hiuk’s what they dike wi’.

BIRK—It’s t’ rod at izzant spared.

BIRD-EEN—Bonny bird-een, the fairest floor ’at iver was seen.

BIRD-LIME—A preparation from holly bark, ta catch birds wi, it clags ther cleeas tull a grain ’ats daub’d wi’ ’t.

BIRL, BURL—To pour out. Birl’s a drop o’ mair tea oot, wi’ ta?

BIRR, BURR—To scotch a cart wheel. Birr t’ wheel antrees t’ meer back. A hazy ring around t’ miun when it’s gaan to snow is co’ed a burr.

BISHOP’T-MILK—Boiling milk allowed to set on t’ pan boddum an’ burnt.

BITY-TONGUE—A turnip ’at izzant fit fer eatin’ an’ bites yan’s tongue.

BIUN-HEED—It’s fine biun-heed—that is the sky’s clear even though it may be mucky under fiut.

BIUS—A stall in a cow-shed—that’s a bius.

BIUT—Added. Used chiefly in trading. Says _Whitehead_:

“Seea he reayde up to t’ foremost chap
An’ thunderin’ thus spak he:

* * * * *

Says he’I’ll clash thi lugs wi’ t’ whup
An’ t’other chap to beut’.”

Lads when they swap jackilegs ’ll giv yan anudder summat to biut—happens a marvel, if tian ’s better ner tudder—er warse.

BILDERT—A rascal, a mischief.

BITTER-SWEET—Some o’ ye’s capt wi’ that, neea doot; git hod o’ yan oot o’ somebody’s wotchet, an’ ye’ll net be capt mich langer.

BLAB, BLAB-TONGUE—Indiscreet talk. A gurt blab tongue.

BLACK-AVISED—Griuby an’ mucky, er glum an’ sulky. Black-avis’d like Jooany Greeuf cat.

BLARING—Bleating of sheep, lowing of cattle, noisy crying of children.

BLUE DEVILS, BLUE DEVILLED—A chap ’at once maks t’ acquaintance o’ this complaint’s in a parlish state. They co them jim jims in America, an’ delirium tremens in England. Blue ’uns ’ll deea.

BLUE-BILLY—A hard blue stone.

BLUE-MILK—Creamless. This milk’s blue as wad.

BLEDDER-HEED—A heed ’at’s like a bledder o’ same is oft co’ed a bledder-heed, an’ t’ chap ’at carries ’t about.

BLATHER—To talk a great deal of nonsense.

BLOB—A drop of water or bubble.

BLINK—To smile.

BLIRT, BLURT—To cry.

BLOW—Ther’s cauld blow, _i.e._ varra poor yal; an’ blow yan’s bacca. Ther’s blow a bit—ta git yan’s wind; a blow oot—a good feed; an’ blow up—a good blackin’.

BLOWN—Out of breath. Ah’s aboot blown. Blown milk—when t’ creem’s gian; an’ blown apples an’ peers, an’ plums, efter a flow wind; an’ blown meet when t’ flees hes been at it.

BLUFF—Plain; bleak; outspoken; hearty; windy. It’s a gay useful mack ov a word is bluff, an’ its a pity it’s gitten abused bi some fooak ’ats varra lal on ’t i’ them.

BLUFT—Ta muzzle a nag een when it’s gien ta bogglin’ is ta bluft it.

BLUFTED—Darkened. His een was blufted up wi’ bein’ tenged wi’ bees. Snow hes blufted oor winda up.

BLUTTER—Ay marry. Siam as a lot o’ watter in a hurry ta git oot ov a lal whol—it blutters oot.

BLUSTERATION—Empty bombast an’ noise.

BLEEDING-HEART—A garden plant.

BLART—To give a secret away; to say something of an indiscreet character. Si thee, it gat blarted aboot frae yah body tul anudder, till ivv’ry yan o’ t’ toon knew Ah’d a new hat ’at wasn’t paid for.

BLASH—A splash. He meead t’ watter blash o’ ower us.

BLASHY—Wild flowe wet weather.

BLASHED—Soiled with muddy water, &c. Thoo’s blashed frae top ta tail. T’ lime’s blashed i’ mi e’e corner.

BLAST—Cold. Ah’ve a blast i’ mi e’e.

BLASTED—Blighted. T’ tree’s bin blasted wi leetnin’.

BLAKE—Sallow complexion. He’s turned varra blake an’ sauvy.

BLAINS—A disorder amang t’ Kye.

BLATIN’—Sheep-weshin’ an’ clippin’ days is t’ day ta hear some blatin’ when t’ yowes an’ lambs is mixed up an’ yan laitin’ anudder.

BLATE—Frightened. Thoo liuks blate eniuf.

BLATE-NER-SKAR—Nut ower modest er bashful.

BLATIN’—Bawl. Give ower blatin’, thoo gurt cauf-head, er Ah’ll gie thee summat ta blate aboot.

BLEB—Blister. T’ lal ’un gat burnt, an’ it’s skin hung i’ gurt blebs.

BLEEA—Ther’s Bleea Tarn; bleea-worms; bleea-berries; and bleea-fingers wi’ cauld; it means a bit blue-reed.

BLEEAN—Bleach. Put t’ cotton things on t’ gers ta bleean a bit.

BLEDDUR-SCALP—Dull witted. Thoo gurt silly bleddur-scalp. It izzant a nice word, this yan, but it’s useful at times.

BLEDDER-SKITE—Yan wi’ ower oppen a mooth.

BLENKIN’—Peeping. He’s blenkin’ aboot efter oor lass. Ah’ll apode it.

BLIND—A blind pap gies neea milk; blind cooal won’t burn. Ther’s fooak ’ats blind at can’t see, an’ ut’hers that won’t. Ther’s tricks diun fer a blind; ther’s blind hash, blind worms, an’ blind wo’s.

BLINDY-BUFF—Blind man’s buff.

BLINNDERS—Leather spectacles fer t’ nags, sea as they ca’t see sideways, an’ git neea muck i’ ther een.

BLIRT, BLIRTEN—Shooting at random. He was blirten aboot amang t’ crows.

BLISH—Blister. Ah’ve a gurt blish fair o’ mi heel.

BLIUD AN’ BATTER—What chaps git wi’ feiten.

BLOB—Bubble. What maks t’ water blob like yon? Siap suds.

BLOB—Watter blob, that is t’ knocklety gold.

BLODDER—To cry in an effusive way—blodder an’ rooar. What’s ta blodderin aboot?

BLODDER—Bubble. He cot his hand wi’ t’ yuk, an’ t’ bliud fair blodder’d oot on ’t.

BLODDERS—Bubbles. Let’s mak siap blodders.

BLONK—When ye can’t gang at dominoes. He pot blonk on—looked sullen.

BLEAR-EE’D—Wake wattery ees ats sair.

BODY’S-SEL—Alone; yan may howk aboot bi a body’s-sel tell yan gahs newdled.

BOONDARY-STOOP—A post that marks the township’s limits on the road.

BOX—Varra clooase; as clooase as a box.

BORRAN—A heap o’ rough cobbles.

BOB—Slip in or out in a hurry. We bob’d in an’ gat a pint o’ yal, an’ bob’d oot an’ off again.

BOCKED—Reached; heaved. Ah varra near bocked mi heart up.

BOG-BEAN, BUCK-BEAN—Bog-bean tea ’s a grand thing fer takkin fur off yer teeth, an’ given ye a stomach.

BOH’D—Took fright. Says Whitehead:

But, ah! I boh’d an’ backward steude,
Seun as I gat a glance.

BONNY—A bonny price, a bonny bairn, a bonny auld shindy, a bonny neet, in fact, ther’s neea limits ta owt at’s bonny—an’ a lal word’s a bonny word sometimes.

BOTCHUT—A beverage made from honey. It’ll mak neeabody drunk—a drop o’ honey botchut, but Ah’ve known fooak badly wi’ ’t.

BOTTLE O’ STREEA—Queer stuff ta bottle, some on ye’ll think, but it’s t’ way threshers lap ’t up an’ tie it wi’ bands.

BOTTOM—To get to the origin or foundation. Ah’ll boddum that drain oot first. Boddum that teeal.

BODDUMS—Shoe soles. What’s left at yal tub efter t’ drink’s drawn. Ditto tumblers an’ tots. Them’s t’ commonest sooart o’ boddums.

BODDUMS—Low lying land, somewhat level, and generally with a beck running through.

BODDUM—Whar fooak sit on.

BODDUM—Principle. He’s a chap wi neea boddum in him.

BOW-HOUGHED—Crooked houghs.

BODDUMLY—In reality; at the bottom. Boddumly Ah du’t think he wanted ta gang away. That hoose boddumly is as clean as a penny. He’s a honest fellow boddumly.

BODDERMENT—Let’s hev nin o’ thi bodderment. Fash.

BODDER—We’ve hed nowt but bodder about it.

BODDERATION—Bodderation to thi an’ thi auld gallawa, thoo can talk aboot nowt but nags.

BOX—Patch; box them up as weel’s ye can.

BOY—T’ cur dog.

BOB, BUMP—A knot of hair, same as a stag tail tied up at back at t’ heeds o’ t’ ladies.

BODES—Pyatts bodes yan’s luck. Yan’s a sorrow, tweea’s a mirth, three’s a wedden, fower a birth, five is silver, six is gold, an sebben is a secret never to be told.

BO-MAN—Be whiat honey er t’ bo-man ’ll come. “The terrible Bo,” as Ant’ny Whiteheed cos him, hes whiatened a lot o’ barns in his time.

BODJY—A bit stoot an’ rayder pursey.

BODY—A person. Can ye give a body a pipe o’ bacca?

BOGGLE—A flaysome ugly thing ’ats varra common i’ t’ looanens; they git up yan’s nooase, an’ flay nags; spirit knockin’s nowt tul a boggle.

BONE—To charge. Ah hard ’at he was tellin ’t ’at Ah was mad drunk; seea t’ next time Ah saw him Ah bian’d him wi’ ’t theer an’ than.

BONES—T’ auld snarlin’ thing he’s allus at ’t bians o’ ivrybody. Frae moornin’ ta neet he’s bianin at it aboot t’ wark.

BON—Go bon it! Varra oft used when fooak hev gitten oot o’ bed ’at wrang side, an’ ivvery thing izzant streck forrad.

BOWELL-HOLE—A small aperature in a barn, for giving light or air.

BOWERY—Plump, buxum.

BOONCE—Eject. Ah’ll boonce t’ shop o’ thee.

BOONCER—Big, smart. Yon’ fellow’s a booncer.

BOONCIN’—Lively. A booncin’ big babby.

BOON-DAY—Help given to a new tenant by his neighbours at ploughin’. They’re hevvin their biun-plewin to-day.

BOONDED—Swelled. T’ back o’ mi hand’s o’ boonded up; ye nivver saw seck a seet i’ yer life.

BOOTED-BREAD—Bread in which rye is used. Ah cud eat a shive o’ booted bread.

BORN-DAYS—Lifetime. Nivver i’ o’ my booarn days did Ah see seck a tagalt as that lad.

BORROWIN’-DAYS—T’ first three days in April.

March borrowed of April,
Three days an’ they war ill,
First rained, second snew,
An’ third was t’ roughest day at ivver blew.

Ah reckon March tiak back seck as she hed on hand.

BOSOM—T’ wind booazums doon t’ chimley, er aroond a niuk, er in a passage.

BOWDY-KITE—A great eater. A gurt brossen bowdykite.

BONNY—A famous niam fer nags.

BRABBLEMENT—A noisy quarrel, or wrangling.

BRAKE—A heavy harrow used for breaking large clods of earth.

BRAW—Finely clothed, handsome.

BRAUN—A wild boar.

“A braun ’at hed boddert ’em neet an’ day,
At last, by a butcher, was boldly shot.”—_Bowness._

BRIDE-ALE—The marriage feast at a rustic wedding.

BRIDE-LIAF—Wedding cake.

BRIDE-WAIN—A brides’ portion.

BREEMEN—Summat up wi’ t’ Sew.

BREED-AN-SCRAPE—A shive o’ breed wi t’ butter scriapt off to deea again. Breed an’ scriap is siam as ’taties an’ point.

BRISKET—T’ breest cut.

BRAG—Boast. Braggen an’ booasten o’ what wark they can deea. Let them deea ’t, sez Ah.

BRAMLI-KITE, BUMLI-KITE—Either er owder ’ll deea. The’r bramble-berries—nowt else.

BRAN-MASH—Try yan fer t’ galloway.

BRAN, BRAND—Owt ’ats new oot o’ t’ mint is bran new, an’ many a thing ’ats nivver bin i’ t’ mint.

BRASH—Rude. Brashed off wi’ laughin’.

BRECK-NECK—Furious haste. He set off neck-breck er nowt breck.

BRAIDS—Imitates; in a similar condition; like. Your fooak braids o’ oors, I see they’re cleanin’ doon.

BREAD-AN’-CHEESE—It grows i’t dyke boddums an’ t’ barns eat it. T’ Latin for ’t wad freeten ’em, ah’s flayed.

BRODDLE—Howk. Nivver broddle yer teeth wi’ a pin. Broddle yer lug wi yer elbow, t’ auld chap said.

BROD—Pierce. Mi teea’s sair whar t’ nail brodded through mi stockin intul it.

BRISSLE or BIRSET—To scorch; to parch by means of fire.

BRULLIMENT—A broil or quarrel.

BRULLY—A domestic difference of opinions; a quarrel. They’d a bit o’ a brully atween them.

BROT—Whar t’ sheep rub ther backs e’ t’ banks o’ peat.

BROCK—An otter. Many a body sez that they “sweet like a brock,” but they nivver saw yan. In the year 1609 they paid in Morland parish 13s. for Brock-heeds at a shilling each.

BROCKSHAW—Meat fra a sheep that has died a natural death. Brockshaw hes a bad reputation, an’ it cudn’t hev a war neeam.