Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, Leeds Mercury, Bradford Observer, Standard, Times, Daily News, Yorkshire Post, Bradshaw & Dinton's Time Tables. Old Gent.-Poorter! Poorter! will you carry these four boxes, they want to go up at- -Poorter! (Hem.) They can't hear when there's owt to do. Swell-Po-taw! Po-taw! Por.-Yes, sir. (Tips his hat.) S.-Put my luggage in a first claas. S.-The two pawtmantaws and gun case you can put in the va-an. Por.-Yes, sir. (Tips his hat.) Por.-Thank you, sir, I'll look after them. Old G.-Ah say, Poorter, I've axed yo abhat fourteen times ta fotch my fower boxes eere. Por.-Now goovenor, have a bit of patience. I can't do so many things all at the same time. Can you be in six places at once? for I can't. Old G.-Sey-eh, eers sixpence for yo. Por. (quickly.)-Oh, all right sir, I'll look after them. It's a nice morning, you see we're rather busy this morning. Female.-Porter, is this train for Por.-Yes, mum. Various voices.-Is this the Scotch train? Por.-Yes! oi! yes, sir! right. Fem. (slow and pitiful.)—I say, porter, have you seen my Juggage? Por.-What is it like? Fem.-Why there's two tin boxes, four carpet bags, three umbrellas five walking sticks, a bonnet box, and a bird cage. Por.-Why, mum! let me see, a bird cage, and a lot of sticks and umbrellas? why all that luggage was put into the last train and it's half way to London by now. Fem.-Gone! hey! here! hallo! stop it! oh, dear me! my best bonnet and gown, and poor little Dickey. I say, here, telegraph um back again. Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Mancnester Guardian, &c. Por. (loud.)-Train for Edinbro, Glasgow, and the North. Widow Lady (with daughter).—If you please is this the north train? Por.-Yes, mum. What class, mum? Any luggage, mum? going too, mum? W. L.-No, I-only came to see my-to see my daughter safe in the train. Por.-Oh, all right, mum; you've five minutes yet. W. L.--Thank you kindly. Don't sit in the draught, Lizzie. Will you have this shawl? Dau.-No, mother, I'd rather not; you will want it your self. W. L.-Oh, never mind me, love; I-I-shall be all right and comfortable with your uncle, you know. You'll write as often as you can, won't you, love? Dau.-Yes, mother, I will; but you must cheer up and don't fret about me. W. L.-I-I-can't help it, my dear. I can't help thinking if your poor father had lived we shouldn't have to part like this. Dau.-Well, it's all for the best, no doubt, mother, we shall see better days soon, I know we shall. There, we're moving; good-bye, keep up your spirits; good-bye, dear old mother. W. L. (crying.)-Good-bye; God bless you! Yorkshire Man.-Ah say! hey up! which is't train fur Howorth? What, dosn't ta heer me? Hey! that chap it blue coit an't yoller buttons. Por. There's a third class in an hour and a quarter. Y. M.-A naar? Why, I've been waiting a naar an' a holfe already. I niver seed sich wark we trains e all me loif, niver. they'er coming and going ivery minnet, ommost; it's fair kapping were they come thro' and were they goa to, is ent it? I say, mister is ent it fair kapping where they come thro? Traveler. We can tell where you "come thro'." Y. M.--Ah ɛewer they can; whad dew I care. I don't believe e so mich nincy-noncy and fine talk, bud I wish I were at home we ar Sally. I'm stalled a carrying 'ere, an' I'm feer ful ungry; can I hev a pipe o' bacca without been taen up and fined forty shillings? Nah lad! what's ta gotten? Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, &c. (Wedding Couple.) Husband.-Now, my dear, we have not a moment to spare. You go and find a seat and I'll see about the luggage and settle with the cab. Bride.-I'll take the dressing case with me, Charles deeah. Hus. Very well, my love; how many packages? B.-There's-let me see; your hat box, two portmanteaus and dressing case, my five tin trunks, six bonnet boxes, and four hampers. Hus. (on his fingers.)-Eleven, twelve, sixteen, eighteen, packages. Oh bother. B.-What did you say, Charles deeah? Hus.--Yes, love, I'll see after them. [Aside.] I never saw the like; a lady can't go on her wedding tour without twenty or thirty packages. Luggage! goodness knows what they contrive to put into them, I don't. Y. M.-I say, poorter, where's this train for? Por.-The north. Y. M.-For where? I say when's t'next? Por.-Twelve thirty. Y. M.-And when's t'next? Por.-One forty. Y. M.-Isn't there one after that? Por.-Two fifteen. Y. M.--Are they all third class? Y. M.--How's that? When is there a third class? Is there -Nar I niver seed ought like this, they can't get to know nothing out of these poorters. Young Mother-Na ten, clumsey, just see were you're a-pushing yourself to. You've gone and squeedged my little baby all up to nothing. Oh, bless it little doidy, was it squeedged by a great hugly man? we'll whip him, yes we will, we will. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; were's your manners? you've left 'em at ome, I think. Swell.--Aw-are--you-aw-addressing aw-those wemark to me, old woman? Young M.-Whose a hold woman! Don't hadd hinsuit to hingery, young fellah. You seem to think you can push folks about just as you like, 'cause you've a black coat on, which very likely is not paid for yet. It's my little baby, bless it. Whisht doy; you've gone and urt it, you ave. It won't stop crying for a week. There-there-bless it. Whish -lovely S.-Well, aw-werry sworry aw-all that sort of thing aw -werry sworry aw-if I've hurt, aw--the poor cweatcher. Young M.-What's a cretur? Who's a cretur? Keep your remarks to yourself or else talk Hinglish. A cretur, indeed! it's a little hangel it is, yes it is; bless it; [kisses it] bless it's little nosey-posey, it's going to ride in a coachy-pochy and have some picey-nicey. Go away wi yeh, yer enif to scare ony body's bairn out ov its wits, wi yer fancy shurt neck and mustach and ginger whiskers. Por.-By leave, please, by leave; is this your portmanteau, sir? Oh, all right, by leave. Look! mind that child; whose is it? Country Woman.--Johnny, come eere; if yo keep going so near them there carriages, I'll give yo a good hideing. Lad (crying).-I want to see t'puffer. C. W.--Well, wait a bit, lad, an' you'll see it; there's a puffer there, or summot ot sort, it looks a queer thing. I say young man, is that a railway or a thrashing machine? they an hardly tell which is which now-a-days. Young Gent.--I don't know I'm sure; I'm a stranger here. Lad.--Eh! eh! eh! see yer, mother, mother! see yer, there's a puffing-billy. Eh! well! horah! Are we going to ride on this puffing-billy, mother? C. W.--Noa, lad it isn't for us, it's a luggage. Lad (crying).--I want to ride on this puffer. I want to ride on't puffer. C. W.-Well, well; wait a bit, lad, an' aar puffer el be coming in a bit. Boy.--Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, &c. irishman. Is this the train for ould Ireland, now? Por.--No, it's for old England, this one. Where are you going to, Paterick? NNNN* Irish.-Shure an' they call me Patherick O'Flanigan, an' I'm going to ould Ireland, if it plase the pigs. Por.-What have you got out here for, then? Irish.-Och, thunder an' turf now, I was tould to get out now. Says oi to the gentleman as gives the bits of paper thro' the pidgeon hole, says oi, oi want a ticket for ould Ireland, says oi. For what now? says he. For ould Ireland, says oi. Where's that? says he. Where do you want to go to? says he. What's that to you? says oi. It's Dublin I'm afther going to, says oi, and isn't Ireland the capital of Dublin, you ignorant spalpeen? says oi. Who are you talking to? says he. To you, says oi, which is the train that goes to Dublin without changing carriages, says oi. This here one. says he, take your sate. Och, bad luck to him, now, I've had to change already. Por.--All change, here! all change! Old Dame.-I say, have we to change for Howarth? Old D.-I say, porter, have we to change for Por. All change, here! Old D.--I say, d'ye hear, have we to change? Por.-Don't I say all change, here; bless me life! a man may call for a week and be no better. Old D.-Well, you can be civil, can't you; it doesn't cost much ben civil. Give a civil question when you're axed a civil answer, and don't be so snappy. Old Man.-Yo'll hev to mind here, it's varry ork ward getting aght. Old D.-Nah then, where hev we to go to nah. [Looking around for something.] A deer! a deer! a wheel! a wheel, What iver sal I do! Por.-What's to do, missis? Old D.-A deer! I've been an' gone an' done it nah! Old D.-Ney, it's war ner that; oh deer! oh deer! I've goan an' left me humbrella it train. Ah deer a me! I sud dan't care a rap, but it belongs to somebody at's dead. Gate Keeper.-Tickets, please! tickets, please! tickets ready! all right. [Pause.] Come, missis, look sharp. |