My sister, Lin, and young niece, Jo (who are ardent Czechlist readers), have
the following to
say about my spelling:
So is that how "ayup" is spelt?! <> Jo is at my side
questioning this. Shouldn't it be 'ey up, being short for hey up? Jo is a
Hmmm, does this run in the family? Indeed investigations on Google support
It was on the plains of Earlham,
The year 1815,
Napoleon was sat in his longjohns,
Supping Brasso with Josephine.
He'd chewed his nails to the very quick,
So he chewed them down to the slow
He was chewing very hard, when up the back yard
Came a Corporal, his nose all aglow.
"Zut alors, mon Capetain!
Sacre bleu, nous allors, parleux vous!"
Boney spat out a big lump of nails
And said, "Bugger me, what's the to do?"
"Ze lads have just come back from ze Wigan,"
Said the Corporal, "Nous played then at ze billiards last night.
But the Wigan lads cheated and gave us wobbly cues,
And sewed all the pockets up tight.
And they put lard on the chalk and glue on nous balls,
And they stuffed our wellies with barbed wire,
And they bunged up nous muskets with parkin,
So we couldn't get the buggers to fire!
And we had to walk home after the punch-up,
'Cause the tram guard looked at us right black.
He said 'Bog off, Froggies',
So we had to leg it all the way back!"
"Ecky-le-Pecky!" said Boney,
"I'll show them what team's the best!"
And he had a quick chew of his fingernails,
And stuck his hand up his vest.
He said, "Dish out some spud guns and catapults, son,
And give lads peashooters all round;
We'll burn down their pie and pea shop,
And raze their chippy to the ground!"
"We'll run through Wigan like a dose of Andrews,
We'll make them all tremble and quake!
We'll loot and we'll pillage, and pinch things as well,
And smash all the Eccles cakes!"
Well, he borrowed the Earlham muck-cart,
And some spuds to roast on the way,
And with all of his lads in the wagon,
He pointed the horse Wigan-way.
But the weather turned rotten to spite him:
It rained, snowed, hailed, and all the rest.
So Boney started sulking and sucking his nails,
And sticking his hand up his vest.
Soon the horse would go no further:
It was weary, and smelly, and old.
And it asked for a blanket, and time-and-a-half,
And boots for working in the cold.
So they traipsed through the snow for a fortnight,
Disgruntled and cold as they were;
They'd icicles hanging from their noses,
And frost all over their hair.
Well, they thrashed through the slush round the slagheaps,
And waded by canal and the pier,
'Til they came to a big doormat in the snow: it said "Bog Off!";
Boney said, "Ey, up, lads, we're there!"
However, Google also provides 2300 hits for 'ayup' including the
valuable information that it is a dialect word in some place:) called Maine:
>Mainers use silly words like cunnin', pungin', ayup, and fetchin'. I guess
the sheep must have taught them to the Mainers.
So let's call it a draw shall we, Jo? :)
Uncle Melvyn x
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