Lancashire Dialect Poetry 
The following Monologues I first heard as a school boy. It was performed by a Mr Danny Chrisham at our Christmas Concert which was held at Saint Josephs School in Stacksteads, Bacup, Lancs, England. in l950.  I remember the hall ringing with laughter from the children and parents alike. 

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Albert and the Lion

Thurs a famous seaside place called Blackpool,    thats noted fur fresh air an fun, an Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom, went thur with  Albert, thur son.  

  A grand likley lad were young Albert,   all dressed in his best, quite a swell,   id  a stick wee an orses ed andle,   the finest that Woolworths could sell.

Nah, thi dint think much tu thocean  , waves wur all figgly an small, thur wur no wrecks an nobody drownded,  fact,  nowt much to laugh  at adall.  

So, seeking fur further amusement, thi paid un went into the zoo, thi wur lions an tigers an camuls,  an owld ale an sandwiches too.

thur  were one owd Lion  called Wallace;   is nose wur all covered in scars,  anny lay in a somnolent posture,  wi the side of his ed uptu bars. 

   Albert ud urd ALL about Lions,    an ow thi  were ferocious an wild-an tu see Wallace lying, so peaceful,    well,   it dint seem reet tu child.

So straightaway,   brave little fella,   not showin a morsel of fear,  took the stick....wi thorses ead andle,   an poked it in Wallaces ear. 

  Well, you could see as  the Lion dint like it,  an givin a kind of a roll,   pulled Albert inside the cage with im,   un swallowed the little lad,  ole.

Then Pa,  who had seen the occurrence, un din know what to do next, Shouted, "Mother! Yon Lions ett  Albert",   an Mother said "Eeeeeh,  I am vexed!"  

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom....quite rightly, when alls said and done,  complained to the Animal keeper, that the Lion had etten their son.

Now the keeper was quite nice about it, an he said "what a nasty mishap, are you sure its thi boy thad hes etten?"  Pa said "yeh"  an proved it by showin his cap. 

Well,   the Manager had to be sent for, an he came an he said "Wats tu do?   Pa said "Yon Lions just ett our Albert,  an im in his Sunday best too."

Then Mother said "Luckeer young fella,  Ah think its a shame an a sin, fur your lion tu go and eat Albert,  an after wi paid to come in."    

The Manager  wanted no trouble,  so he took out his purse right away, sayin "how much to settle the matter?"  said Pa,  "What dyu usually pay?"

But Mother had turned reet awkward, when she thowt wur her Albert had gone.."No! someones got to be summonsed!" said she,  and that was decided upon.  

Then off they went to the Police station, in front of the magistrate chap, they told im what happened to Albert,  an proved it by showing his cap.

The magistrate gave his opinion, an that no-one were really to blame,  And he said that he "hoped the Ramsbottoms,  would av further sons to thur name."   

At that,   Mother got proper blazin, an "thank you sir kindly", said she,   "What,.   waste all mi life rearing childer?  Tu feed bloody Lions?   NOT ME".


Another great Monologue which Danny used to relate.

Three ha'pence a foot

I'll tell you an old-fashioned story, that Grandfather used to relate,
Of a joiner and building contractor; Iz name, it were Sam Oglethwaite.

In a shop on the banks of the Irwell, old Sam used to follow 'iz trade,
In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury; you know, where black puddings are made.

One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole,   Wi' putty, when in thro' the door
Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers;  T'ould chap said "Good morning, I'm Noah."

Sam asked Noah what were 'iz business,  and t'ould chap went on to remark,
That not liking the look of the weather,   'E were thinking of building an Ark.

'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks,  And all t'other shipbuilding junk,
An wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple,  To panel the side of 'iz bunk.

Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly;  that means it were all 'iz to cut,
And nobody else 'adn't got none;  so 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot.

"A ha'pence too much," replied Noah,  "A Penny a foot's more the mark;
A penny a foot, and when rain comes,  I'll githee  a ride in me Ark."

But neither would budge in the bargain;  thole daft thing were kind of a jam,
So Sam stuck 'iz tongue out at Noah, And Noah gave 'fingers' to Sam .

In wrath and ill-feeling they parted,  not knowing when they'd meet again,
And Sam had forgot all about it, til one day it started to rain.

It rained and it rained for a fortneet,  and flooded the 'ole countryside.
It rained and it kept' on raining,  til  Thirwell were fifty miles wide.

Th'ouses were soon under watter,  an folks to the roof 'ad to climb.
They said 'twas the rottenest summer,  that Bury 'ad 'ad for some time.

The rain showed no sign of abating, an water rose hour by hour,
'Til the only dry land were at Blackpool,  and that were on top of the Tower.

So Sam started swimming to Blackpool;  it took 'im best part of a week.
'Iz clothes were wet through when 'e got there,  and 'iz boots were beginning to leak.

E stood to 'is watch-chain in watter,  on Tower top, just before dark,
When who should come sailing towards 'im,  but old Noah, steering 'is Ark.

They stared at each other in silence,  'Til thark were alongside, all but,
Then Noah said: " What price yer Maple"?  Sam answered "Three ha'pence a foot."

Noah said " Nay; I'll make thee an offer,  the same as I did t'other day.
A penny a foot and a free ride.  nah, come on lad, what does tha say?"

"Three ha'pence a foot," came the answer.  so Noah 'iz sail 'ad to hoist,
He sailed off again in a temper,  while Sam stood determined, but moist.

Noah cruised around, flying 'iz pigeons,  'Til fortieth day of the wet,
And on 'iz way back, passing Blackpool,  'E saw old Sam standing there yet.

'Is chin just stuck out of the water;  a comical figure 'e cut,
Noah said: " Nah  what's the price of yur Maple?"  Sam answered: " Three ha'pence a foot."

Said Noah: "Ye'd best take my offer;  it's last time I'll be hereabout;
And if water comes half an inch higher, I'll happen get Maple for nowt."

"Three ha'pence a foot it'll cost yer, az fer me," Sam said, " don't fret.
Sky's took a turn sin this morning;   ah think it'll brighten up yet."

I never heard Danny do this one.  Can't even remember where I got this from but I like it a lot


Owed Jim e' were a clogger,  Wi'a workshop, up some steps.

Ther'l be lots o'folk a warin,   those fancy clogs'e meks.

'e cuts the soles from wooden blocks,  wi a fancy shaped machine,

An clever folk'ave coed it,   A clogger's guillotin


. An when e’s finished shapen' soles,  An tacked'is leather round,

'e's ready then fer buckle on,    An pattin'toe-caps down.

A can see'im now a shapin'   Some very pointed soles,

'e sez ther for a clog-dancer,   'who puts on special shows.


An'then thers bread and butter clogs,  which Jim meks by the score,

An'when ther blacked and polished up,  Ther ready for the store.

But one thing's sure, ther is no doubt,  For warin on yer feet.

Yo canna beat Jim's wooden clogs, becoz ther med just reet.


It were weeks since we'd last seen the milk man,
An' months since the meters were read.
The 'earse wouldn't venture down our street,
Not even t' pick up the dead.

The coal man would just shrug 'is shoulders.
"There's no way I'm goin' down there.
You'll 'ave t' set fire to your tables,
An' maybe your old rockin' chairs."

Now the reason for all this commotion,
Were a dog that its owners called Bert
It prowled up an' down on the pavement,
Jus' lookin' for strangers to 'urt.

Its coat were as wiry as Brillo,
Its eyes they were evil an' dark.
An' it chewed on the steps of the 'ouses,
In an effort t' keep it teeth sharp.

The postman just wouldn't come near us,
Not after 'is do wi' the dog.
'Is pants were just 'angin' in tatters,
An' 'e didn't quite make it t' bog.
"It's like bein' marooned," said me mother.
"There's no one'll visit us like.
The last one t' come was yer Uncle,
An' it chewed all the tyres of 'is bike."

But Bert 'adn't reckoned on Charlie,
The bloke who cleaned t'windows on t' street.
'E said 'ow 'e'd teach Bert a lesson,
For chewin' 'is mop so t' speak.

All weekend 'e spent in the bike shed,
Knockin' away with 'is 'ammer.
At a load of old buckets an' braces,
That 'e fastened wi' bolts an' a spanner.

'E polished the lot t' perfection,
Then pulled the suit over 'is 'ead.
"By eck," said 'is wife when she saw 'im,
"You're jus' like Ned Kelly," she said.

As the Sun crept up over the chimneys,
Charlie stood, at the end of the street.
An' Bert loudly growled from 'is doorstep,
While scrapin' the claws on 'is feet.

For a moment they eyed up each other,
An' the neighbours jus' stood there inert.
Then Charlie, 'e hoisted 'is ladders,
An' clanked as 'e walked towards Bert

Bert were on 'im in a instant,
Teeth, fur an' claws in a blur.
But Charlie just carried on walkin'
Then climbed up an' cleaned number four.

Bert 'ad gone into a frenzy,
An' gripped Charlies leg in 'is mouth.
But Charlie just carried on workin',
An' started t' scrim the next 'ouse.

One more attack an' it ended,
when Berts teeth fell out on the street.
An' the neighbours all cheered loud at Charlie,
As they lifted 'im 'igh off 'is feet.

Now Bert jus' sits quiet on the doorstep,
If a stranger walks by, 'e jus' looks.
Berts bitin' days are now over,
But I've 'eard 'e can give a bad suck.

Page two Lancashire poetry HERE