Ammon Wrigley - "Nan O' Ratcher's"

The following is a transcription of a work by Saddleworth poet Ammon Wrigley (1861-1946).

Nan O’ Ratcher’s

Hoo ne’er does nowt fro’ morn toh neet
Nawt hearken eaut un spir,
Un howt hoo yers hoo ratches it
Un macks it ten times wur.
Hoo knews heaw owd everybody is
Un wheer thi’r bred un born,
Un wheer thi bowt ther Sunday cloas
Un heaw lung thi’n bin worn.
Hoo’s awlus fain when sumdy dees,
Fur then hoo’ll gawp un stond,
Un pike op th’ stairs wi’ th’ berrin foak
Toh see heaw th’ corpse is donned;
Then off hoo pops, th’ owd oppen chops,
Wi’ sich a yeawlin din;
Hoo’s tellin here, un tellin theer,
Its feawest corpse hoo’s sin.
Ut Sunday, too, hoo’s in her pew,
Her een i’ every nook,
If sumdy’s donned i’ summat new
Hoo doesn’t forget toh look;
“Hay dear,” hoo’ll seh,”awm gradely fast,
Awm fere i’ pins bi’ th’ mass,
Aw connut tell fur th’ life o’ me,
Wheer yond thing gets it brass.”

Ammon Wrigley - "Nan O' Ratcher's"


This page was last modified on 12 August 2018 and has been edited by Dave Pattern.

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