Tis another of they there dialect stories from the pen of Trevor Dalley!
Mistletoe hung forlorn and naked of its berries from a blackened beam; an open door somewhere caused the log fire to emit an occasional puff of smoke.
“Well, if thet wus Christmas we’ve ‘ad it.” Said Joey.
The pub was empty except for Joey and Albert, both were already five pints to closing time when Phil came in with a plate of sandwiches. “Here boys, a nice bit of leg of pork.”
“Pork fur Christmas! Reminds of a story me fether told me wonce,” said Albert
“Gwone Albert, tell us all ‘bout it. I spect yu will any’ow.”
Albert
“Well, twas durin the war, me fether used to sing in chapel choir an’ a fellow member said to un, ‘Willy do e naw anybody cun fix me up with a leg o’ pork fur Christmas?’ Fether said, ‘I naw just the man, I’ll ask un fur e’. Well, yu naw they Kernows, the wans with the smallholding over Gillan, well fether asked the old man Eddie if’n ‘e ‘ad any, an’ e said ‘e cun ‘ave a leg no bother, cum over Xmas Eve an’ pick un up.’ That Xmas Eve ‘is mate wus wurkin’ late so fether picked ‘im up straight frum work. Wen they got there fether knocked on the back door, an’ Eddie shouted ‘comason in pard.’ Well wen they wen’ in, there wus Eddie an’ ‘is lot sat round a Cornish range thet wus piled high with coal an’ the oven door wus wide open where a cat wus fast asleep. When e saw fether’s friend, Eddies jaw nearly ‘it the floor.”
Albert took a slurp of his beer and then continued, “See, e wus a plice hinspector an’ e still ‘ad ‘is uniform on.’ He paused again, and then “See, during the war you could only kill wan animal an’ you ‘ad to ‘ave a licence to kill ‘e, or yu could be put in Jail if’n you wus caught. Any’ow Eddie scrambled fur the table drawer an’ pulled out a piece o’ paper ‘ere you are sir, me certificate to kill me awn pig.’ ‘Don’t worry about it’ said Fether’s friend. ‘If’nyu go down the scullery you kin pick yur awn’ said Eddie. Any’ow, father’s friend wus delighted an’ as they were driving away e said to Fether ‘When you next see Eddie congratulate him for me will you?’ ‘Ows thet’ said Fether?’ ‘Well,’ he laughed ‘to have a pig with so many legs’!”
They all roared with laughter and Joey said, “this pork is ansome, cum on Albert boy eat up an’ ‘ave another pint.”
(There are two things that are true in this story: the cat, and the legs of pork, and they both relate to the same family but at different times. Everything else is purely fictitious.)
Trevor Dalley
I was born at Praze (see Coronation Cottages on YouTube by Sarah Chapman), went to Crowan Primary School, Helston Grammar School, and left at 16 to work with my father in his greengrocery business. I started my own business at 21 and was self-employed until I retired at the age of 69. I founded Camborne Trevithick Day in 1983 and was chairman of the organising committee for twenty years. I was made a Cornish Bard in 1994. I took over the chairmanship of Trevithick Day in 2014 but have now retired and made an Honorary Life President. I was a member of the Camborne Town Council for several years and presently a member of The Camborne Town Deal Board. I began creative writing about fourteen years ago and when the West Briton had a real editor I had a monthly column.
