The Gentleman's Magazine/Volume 6 New Series/December 1836/Letter in the Dialect of the Shetland Islands
Mr. Urban,Hartburn, Morpeth, Oct. 17.
AS you have not unfrequently admitted into your Miscellany curious pieces of composition in the dialects of our country, I have procured from the Shetland Islands a specimen of the language still spoken among the common people there, with the hope of seeing it perpetuated in your pages. I had endeavoured to procure in manuscript or print some glossary or list of words peculiar to that group of Islands; but, instead of such a work, received the following facetious letter, which was many years since sent by a gentleman of Shetland to his friend in Liverpool; several copies of it have been circulated in manuscript, but I am assured that it has never appeared in print. The narrative, it is plain, has been contrived to embody in it as many words and phrases peculiar to the vulgar language of the district as its compass would admit of. Though the translation with which I have accompanied it, has undergone the revisal both of scholars and a native of the country, it is still, I fear, not free from errors; for this is the only specimen of the Zetlandic tongue that I have seen; and my knowledge of the Anglo and Scoto-Northumbrian dialects does not furnish me with a key to some of its terms and phrases. I have, however, endeavoured to render it as easy and literal as I can. The words of the original should, I am told, be pronounced exactly as they are spelled. J. H.
no a krum atill’d itt kud a been a humb laband till a whillie. An a’ll ashure dee, du wid a geen a gùde pees o’ gett afoar du fan twa better flyters: nevvir mycht I sin ginn I dud na heer da galder o’ dere tungs az veevaly abùn da klifts az ginn I’d been apo da toonmills asyde dim. An nu du seez az I wiz tellin dee, bye kums Steaggie wi a pere o’ helltars in his haand—hee geez mee da tyme o’ da dey an akses fooz a wee mee. “Braalie, braalie, bruee,” sez I, “fooz a wi dee sell, I warn du hez no a smell i dee hoarn,—yaa whey hez du no?”—“Na, deevil a kūmm iz been i mye kustadee dis munt an mere, sinn I tint ma mill ee dey it I wiz i da elb strikkin twartree lempits ta so at da eela.” I maks apo mee ta tak oot ma box oot o’ ma weasket pokkit, an I seyz, “weel dan will du smell at my trash.” An wi dat I taks oot hiz nain mill an sneyts ma noze, an az shun az hee sett hiz glowriks apun’d, da fes o’ himm lep upp lek a kol, an I seyz till him, “Bridder, kens du dis snuff mill?” “Na, no I, lam, foo sud I ken, na gùde ken o’ mee az I ken no, a prettie mill it iz, whaar fell du in wee’d.” “Whaar I fell in wi dis tnyfe.” I entrappit him, an tuik oot da joktalegg. “Meabee du kens na himm neddarin; yea, du mey stumse du ill viandit teef it du iz, du tocht nethin ta pit dye mark (hiz mark wiz da left lugg getskor’d behint, an da rycht lugg shùild wi a hol) apo mye steag;—nu afoar du an I sinders, nevvir mycht mee haand help ma bodie, in I dùna sett mye mark apo dee” (Wir mark wiz bead da luggs aff, bit wee hed annidder een furbye dat.) An wi dat sam I grippit him be da trapple, an whatt tinks du’ Pettie, I wiz dat ill tafu itt am mear az sertan I widna a left da wratch da ormal o’ a lugg, gin Dunkin o’ Sandle hed na kum behint mee, an klikkit da skùnee oot o’ mee haand; weel, I wiz resoal’d ta he sum menze apun him, an whin I’d geen him a gùde trist o’ da kreag, an tree or four sonsee knubs aboot da shafts, wee breek-bandit hit, an I laandit him rycht apo da keel o’ hiz bak i da vennal itt ran oot anonder da kuddee doar o’ Andru o Digran’s byar, asyde Donal o Nius’ mukkle flekkit gaat, it wiz cùllin him dere i da runnik—an sek an a runnik—I nevvir saa da lek—what wi da swyne, an da fokk, an what ran oot fre da bes, an da goilgrùve o’ da middeen, du widna gùdablee a seen a prettiar konkurrans fre Ska ta Sumbrooch-hedd—an de wirr datt vyld a ere wee’d whin hee wiz onee ting o’ a glùd apun him, itt hit wiz anioch ta confees a dugg.
Dye Kummarad,
A———d B———y.
Your Comrade,
A———d B———y.
Gent. Mag. Vol. VI.
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