My Bobby Dazzler

‘Ow do, lass, tha’s a stunner,
I aint seen ‘out like ‘thee afoor.
Th’as luvly as t’sun after t’rain
I’m as sure as I’m sure I am sure.

Tha’s such a reyt bobby-dazzler,
Tha’s taken mi breath clear away
And I’ll nivver find a better,
So one day it’s a bridal bouquet.

And when we git married I’ll luv thee,
I’ll look after thee till I die;
And when we’re tigether in t’eaven
Tha’ll still be a-dazzling me eye.

‘Bobby-dazzler’ was originally a North East England dialect term for a person who is affectionately considered as being beautiful or remarkable. In have attempted to write these 3 verses in a North Yorkshire dialect,

Let’s Go A-cooarting – A Tykish Tale

Roseberry Topping


Risk assessment
Forward planning;
Think ahead
Where you’re ganning.

Trip the Dale
I fancy that.
Today’s assignment
Meet Chop Yat.

Ower the moors
Lyke Wake Walk;
Risks involved,
But let them gawp.

Along the runnel,
Beside the beck.
Could I care less?
What the ‘eck!

Meet up as
Our way we wend
Up Sparrow Lane
Yon far end.

Off to see my bobby dazzler,
Sweet lass o’ mine,
For now and aye
For thee I pine.

Out o’ t’way lad,
Let me pass
Ow do then,
Mi bonnie lass?

Nether nowt nor summat this,
‘Twere thee thissen wot seddit
But now, for real, what’s next is here,
Just lie back and let it.


  • Tyke (dialect), an English dialect of Northern England spoken in the English county of Yorkshire  (Wikipedia)


WHITBY – North Yorkshire

[  Photo Blog # 75  ]

Moving from my visits to the coastal areas of the far south-west of England over the past few weeks, I now wish to post over the next few Thursdays a number of galleries of my photographs from the opposite, North-Eastern, coasts of England.  This particular photograph collection is of the historic North Yorkshire coastal town of Whitby.  I have visited there before in a number of my earlier blogs.

The photographs below cover a variety of different scenes within the town . . .

Whitby (0) OS Map



Whitby (1)

The jawbones of a whale, framing the ancient Abbey and church on top of the cliffs on the southern bank of the River Esk as it meets the North Sea.  In the 18th and 19th centuries the whaling industry was thriving in Whitby.  Dozens of ships braved the Arctic seas off Greenland to hunt these elusive leviathans for their lucrative whale oil.  Many of the crews never came back.

Whitby (2)

A similar view, but this time showing the statue of Captain James Cook, gazing out to the North Sea, from where Cook first set out to sea in ships transporting coal to London and the River Thames. 

Whitby (3)

Close up view of the Cook Memorial

Whitby (4)

Looking North along the Yorkshire coast towards Sandsend

Whitby (5)

The sea entrance to Whitby Harbour

Whitby (6)

Modern reproduction of  HMS Endeavour, the British Royal Navy research vessel that Lieutenant James Cook commanded on his first voyage of discovery, to Australia and New Zealand, from 1769 to 1771.

Whitby (7)

Whitby Inner Harbour looking south to the ruins of Whitby Abbey

Whitby (8)

The modern ‘Endeavour’s’ figurehead

Whitby (9)

Modern-day street entertainer at the entrance to one of Whitby’s many ancient ‘Yards’.   Visit my poem about this particular historic Whitby spot at:  ‘Argument’s Yard’ 

Whitby (10)

Queuing for entry to Whitby’s famous ‘Magpie Cafe’, renowned for its fresh fish and chip meals.

Whitby (11)

Goths in Whitby for one of its regular Goth Weekends’, a celebration of the fact that Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ novel begins its story near the ancient Abbey here.

Whitby (12)

More of Whitby’s Goths


Talking Tyke & ‘Auld Ap’


The White Rose Of Yorkshire

As an ex-patriot Tyke, now of advanced years, I value my Yorkshire upbringing and family history dearly. Although I have, apart perhaps from some extreme moments of stress, lost virtually all my North Yorkshire accent, I have retained pleasurable memories of the vernacular speech of my parents and many of my Northern relatives and friends.

The dialect has its roots in Old English and Old Norse, There is a  Yorkshire Dialect Society  (click on the link for accesswhose purpose is to promote the use of the dialect in both humour and in serious linguistic studies.  On the site you will find sound files giving examples of many of the dialects spoken in different parts of this, the largest of all English counties.

Caedmon, writing in the 7th Century whilst a monk working under the Abbess Hild at Whitby Abbey, was the first Yorkshireman  (perhaps even the first Englishman) to write verse.  [ See my blog of 29th of July on ‘Whitby’ ].  Caedmon was said to have been an illiterate herdsman who had a vision one night and heard a voice commanding him to sing of “the beginning of created things”.



Since that time countless other poets have sung about the life and events of North Yorkshire (see the  The Lyke Wake Dirge ).   In more recent times, verses have been published attempting to represent the Yorkshire dialect in written form.  This certainly involves liberal use of the apostrophe!

One such dalesman published several collections of entertaining and expressive dialect verse under the pen-name of ‘Erimus’ (Latin: ‘We Shall Be’).   The poem of his which I reproduce below has a particular connection with my own family history, as the Auld Ap referred to in the opening verse, was the father of my Uncle (by marriage) Edwin.   A.P. Richardson was, in the early part of the 20th Century, a renowned auctioneer at agricultural auctions throughout the North Riding of Yorkshire, and, according to Erimus, “his dry pungent wit would loosen the purse-strings of the most inveterate miser”.  


Midnight Farm . . .  WHB 1991

The story of ‘Auld Ap’s’ visit to auction off the goods and livestock at  ‘Midnight Farm’ is told in Erimus’s poem reproduced below.  It is from Erimus’s collection of verse entitled ‘ Wi’ t’ accent on Yorkshire’.   The farm does actually exist in a fold of the Cleveland Hills, above the typical North Yorkshire village of Ingleby Greenhow.   It gets its name from its position in the landscape which denies it sunshine for most of the year.


Ah went tiv a seeal yance at 'Midnight'.
Auld 'Ap' started preeachin' at ten;
He ranted on t' breedin' an' t' birthright
0' t' Maister an' t' poor daytal men:
He'd got bargains bi t' score for us buyers,
All t' stock was weel wintered, he said,
All t' hosses was soond an' good triers
An' t' beeasts had been varry weel fed.

He was sellin' some yows an' some wethers,
Sike a brokken moothed lot nivver stirred!
Some pooaks all stuffed full wi' feathers -
There was beastlins an' bowls o' white curd:
A wall-eyed auld gallower called 'Rastus'
Was tied up in t' stall next ti t' bull;
A razor-backed sow galloped past us
Leeatin summat ti git t' belly full.

A Westerdale youth wi' a tub-trap
Bowt a coo wi' its bag trailin' t' ground,
She 'ad a hingrowin' hoorn an' a blinnd pap-
But hotherwise - perfectly sound:
He bowt t' Missis some mair bits an' pieces -
A 'lye' an' tweea garden speeads,
Some bales o' Teeswatter fleeces,
All clinkered an' liftin' wi' caids.

Some farm lads was there playing marbles,
Near a mangy auld dog an' some cats,
There was stirks wi' their backs blebbed wi' waarbles
An' t' granary was swaarmin' wi' rats:
T' farmer's wife was a raucous auld creeatur,
Sike a skinflint, she'd skin ivvery louse:
She'd tak' drinks frea all 'at would treeat her,
Then skip smartly back inti t' hoose!

T' wasn't long afoor t' lads got their glimmers
On t' greeat sarvant lass 'at was there,
They forgot aboot biddin' for t' gimmers,
As she eyed 'em frea t' auld rockin' chair:
A reet useful soort ti' git wedded -
An' a bargain at seventeen steean two,
It would just need anuther yan like her
An' ye could yoke 'em beeath inti t' plew!

She said she'd feed all 'at was buyin',
We gat fat rascals an' green mowldy cheese,
An' mair than that - withoot tryin',
We foond we were covered in fleas;
They crowled oot of a greasy flock mattress
We’d sat on ti’ watch two auld stegs
That were chasin’ a loppy-lugged fuzzock
Ti’ stop ‘im frae eatin’ t’ pot eggs!

Noo ye nivver saw fleas that could beat ‘em!
We all ceeam oot i’ great lumps,
We hardlins knew which way ti’ treeat ‘em,
As we scratted oor bellies an’rumps!
Auld Jim said. 'By Gum, but Ah’ll cap ‘em!’
They’d driven ‘im just aboot fond;
He’d gi'en ower trying ti’slap ‘em,
Sae he dived heead fost inti’ t’pond!

Ah had ti git t’Missus ti shift mine,
She threw all mi cleeas on ti t’ wall;
Ah stood in a barril o’ quick lime,
Then ah dived inti t’ nearest coo stall;
She finished ‘em off wi’ a blow lamp -
Ye could hear ‘em sizzlin’ all t’ tahm
Ah was pleased as Punch when they flooated,
But she varry nigh did me some ‘arm!

They say t’sun nivver shines there at’Midnight’.
Except for an odd tahm in t’year,
Maist o’ t’ work’s deean there bi moonlight,
Wi neea tahm ti’ drink onny beer:
Ah was nivver seea glad ti git scamperin’
Wi t’ hoss’s head pointed for heeam,
Ah Ah’d tak’ a fair bit o’ pamperin’
Ti got ‘ticed back ti Midnight ageean!!