PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

November 16, 2000

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Es waar graad um die Zeit vum Yahhr, awwer in 1906, wie der Salli Holsbock (der Harvey M. Miller, 1871-1939) en Schtick gschriwwe hot ass er “En Thanksgiving Schtori” gheese hot. Do iss es:

   Die Nacht waar schtill, Zwee yung Leit, en Bu un em Meedel, der Yokel un die Betz, henn vane uffem Gate ghanke. Der Mond waar hoch im Himmel wie en grosser, geeler Karrebse Custard, un der Hund waar in seim Nescht. Im Haus waare die alde Leit schunn lang in der Ruh. Es waar ken Sound vun kennre Ord, except allegebott en dull, dief Geboller, wie der Schall vun re Dynamite Explosion, wann der alt Mann gschnarrixt hot.

   “Ya, mei liewe Betz,” daagt der Yockel, mit ihre Batsch in seinre Batsch un ihre Kopp uff seim Hatz, “Ich muss geh.” Er hot die seeme Wadde schunn zwansichmol devor gsaat ghatt, awwer des waar en Farriwell Meeting. “Nau muss ich geh,” hot er gsaat, “awwer ich meen mei Hatz verschpingt. Wann ich denk, do sin mer nau:

Zwee Grautkepp uffem seem eSchtock.
Zwee Meis im Moschmehl Sack;
Zwee Bullfrack uffem seeme Block,
Zwee Gens im seeme Flock.

   Do sin mer beinanner, es maag sei fer’s letscht Mol. Marrige muss ich fatt, mei Weg mache in der Welt un mei Glick browiere. Do deheem kann mer net genunk verdiene fer der Preis vun re Amberell ufflege fer en regericher Daag. Ich geh en mannich Meil eweck, mei liewe Betz, awwer ich denk immer zerrick an die gude Zeide was mer ghatt hen minanner.

   “Wann ich gut ausmach un wa reich, kumm ich zerrick in die alt Heemet do un dress dich in Seide. Dennoh bischt du schtols it deim liewe alde Yodel, un mer bauer en grooss, backeschteenich Haus mit Gleeder – un Wasserklossets drin, un duhne nix ass Bills bezaahle fer unser blessier. Un nau muss ich beigliedich fatt. Geb mer yuscht noch ee Mol en Bloss – so! Farriwell!” Un er iss fatt.

   Die Bet iss ins Haus un hot gebrillt, dass die Dreene darrich der Schprausack gerunne sin un all die Wanse versoffe.

ES ZWETT KABIDDEL

   Der Yokel hot Arrewet gfunne amme Blatz net en hunnert Meil eweck un iss fleissich draa. Der Luh waar net grooss am Schtaert, awwer er hot dezu gschtocke, un es waar net lang bi ser meh grickt hot, un dennoh als meh, un allemol dass sie sei Luh gereest hen, hot er die Betz gschriwwe wege sellem backeschteenich Haus.

   Die Leit hen ihn gegliche weil er gsiemt hot scheffich zu sei, un an der seeme Zeit gutsuckich.

   Nau, was denkt ihre liewe Leser – kummt der Yokel zerrick zu der Betz?

Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer

Dear people:

   It was just around this time of the year, but in 1906, that Solly Husbuck (Harvey M. Miller, 1871-1939) wrote a piece that he called “A Thanksgiving Story”. Here it is:

   The night was still. Two young people, a boy and a girl, Jakey and Beth, hung on the gate in front of the house. The moon was high in the sky like a large, yellow pumpkin custard pie, and the dog was in his “nest.” In the house the two old folks were already long at their rest. There was no sound of any kind, except every once in a while a dull, deep rumbling noise, like the sound of a dynamite explosion, when the old man snored.

   “Yes, my dear Beth,” Said Jakey, with her hand in his hand and her head on his heart, “I must go.” He had said the same words already 20 times before, but his was a farewell meeting. “Now I must go,” he said, “but I thing my heart is bursting. When I think about it, here we are now:

Two cabbage heads on the same stem
Tow mice in the mushmeal sack
Two bullfrogs on the same log,
Two geese in the same flock.

   Here we are together, it might be for the last time. Tomorrow I must go, to make my way into the world and try my luck. Here at home one can’t save enough for the price of an umbrella for a rainy day. I’, going a few miles away, me dear Beth, but I’ll always think back on the good times that we had together.

   “When I make out well and get rich, I’ll come back to the old homestead here and dress you in silk. Then you will be proud of your dear old Jakey, and we’ll build a big brick house with clothes closets and water closets in it, and we’ll do nothing but pay bills for our pleasure. And now, by golly, I have to get going. Give me just one more kiss –so! Farewell!” And he went away.

   Beth went into the house and cried (so hard) that the tears went through the chaff mattress and all the bedbugs drowned.

THE SECOND CHAPTER

   Jakey found work at a place not a hundred miles away and got at it diligently. The pay was not big at the start, but he stuck to it, and it wasn’t long before he got more, and then more and more, and every time that they raised his pay, he wrote to Beth about that brick house.

   The people like him because he seemed to be industrious, and at the same time good looking.

   Now, what do you dear readers think – will Jakey come back to Beth?

Take care,
The Old Professor

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