A Cornish Dialect series by Tony Mansell
“Here Sid, I just saw Fanny Trevethan down the road: she was in some state.”
“What’s wrong with the bleddy woman this time, she’s always got er knickers in a twist bout somethin.”
“See, from what I can gather, she had some sort of happarition last night.”
“Who the ell’s that when he’s at home Jan, and what’s the silly bugger doin visitin her.”
“Well you used to.”
“Ess, well see I was desprate in they days and I owed er a favour. Anyway, who’s this happarition youm on bout.”
“Tidn a who, Sid, tis a what. She do reckon it was a spirit – a ghost. They things that do walk about in the night. You da know, a spirit of somebody who’ve lived and died and is come back to haunt people. I bet you’ll be good at it when you kick the bucket, in fact you aren’t bad at it now.”
“You’re some funny Jan Tregaskes, I nearly laughed then. Anyways, I don’t reckon Fanny got nothin to worry bout. No self-respectin ghost is goin lay a hand on anythin she got. My gar if ee did tackle er, ee’d need a bit of chalk to mark where ee left off so’s ee could carry on next day. She’s some piece you! See, I reckon she’s bigger now than when I used to go there and even then I had to watch meself in case she rolled over.”
“That may be Sid but the fact is she’s certain she saw somethin and she isn’t gived to himaginin things. I da reckon there’s somethin in it.”
“Lookin’ in er bathroom window was ee. If ee was then tis the last she’ll see of n.”
“She aint got no bathroom Sid, she da wash in front the fire.”
“Now Jan Tregaskes, tidn for me to hinterfere but I da wonder ow you came across that particlar bit of hinformation. ‘Tidn you been peepin in through er window is it?”
“No ‘tidn Sid Penpraze, and don’t ee go sayin I ave. My Maggie wouldn’t be best pleased if she eard anybody goin’ on like that. All I meant was, she avn got a bathroom and I do know she got a tin bath in er outhouse.”
“Alright Jan, I wadn goin say anything anyway, I wus jus wonderin. Anyways, did she say what this ere ghost was like?”
“Well, it do seem that she woke up an looked out the window an there ee was, avin a piddle in er garden.”
“She didn’t recognise n then?”
“Well no, see, she didn’t see is face.”
“Now look ere Jan, ave you ever eard of a ghost avin a piddle? I spose tis a subject worthy of consideration, like do they eat and drink? But I da think there’s somethin’ pretty peculiar bout a ghost avin a piddle. And another thing, why would ee go in er garden to ave a piddle, why could’n ee ave a piddle out in the road.”
“Well praps ee da live in er garden, then twould seem pretty peculiar to go out in the road to ave a piddle.”
“Ess, Ess Jan, you got a point there. If tis is reglar spot do ee think that’s how she da grow such lovely great parsnips. Anyways, this question of whether a ghost needs a piddle or not is all gettin too philasolophical for me, I da reckon we should leave such questions ta they what got the brains to tackle n. I tell ee what though Jan, twoud be some fun to go down there tonight an make out we’m the phantom piddlers.”
“Fat lot of good that would be Sid. You da know er so well that even with your head covered up she’ll still know ee!”
