Names Matter: gatless… Stuart France

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Tom Tit Tot

*

…Well, she were that frightened. She’d allus been such a gatless mawther, that she didn’t se much as know how to spin, an’ what were she to dew tomorrer, with no one to come nigh her to help. She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, and lork! How she did cry! …

…All on a sudden she heard a sort of knockin’ low down on the door.
She upped and oped it, an’ what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right kewrious, an’ that said:
‘What are yew a cryin’ for?’…

…‘Wha’s that to yew?’ says she.
‘Niver yew mind,’ that said, ‘but tell me what you’re a cryin’ for.’…

…That oon’t dew me noo good if I dew,’ says she.
‘Yew doon’t know that,’ that said, an’ twirled that’s tail round.
‘Well, says she…

View original post 61 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.