PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick
 

3-13-03

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Der Salli Holsbock (der Harvey Miller, 1871-1939) hot mol gschriwwe: " Land eb die Abbedeek gschtaert iss warre, hot die Mammi Heilmiddel gemacht. Sie hot Gleddewatzel. Saessefraess, Lungegraut, Halwergaul, Schlangewatzel, Salwei,
Kalmus, Geilskimmel, Kiehbidders, Gwendel, Bidderkasche, Darrichwax, un Schoofribbe immer uff Hand ghatt."

   Awwer wie der Kallennermann, der Henry A. Schuler (1850-1908), in seim Schtick fer Matz uns saagt, "Im Matz geb't gaern hoche, rauhe Winde un alsemol bringt er noch's allerwieschdichscht Winderwetter hinnenoch -- Schnee un Kissel un en Kelt ass es eem grisselt fer naus zu geh." Un sell meent ass mer noch en gudi Tschaens hen fer grank warre.

   Awwer was kann mer duh wann der Mammi ihre Heilmiddel net helft? Do misse mer dann em John Birmelin (1873-1950) sei Schtick " Alder Weiwer Glaawe" lese un sei Rot follige:

Fer'n wehes Maul, do schpau ins Feier;
Des helft der graad un iss net deier.
Un schpau ins Feier um so meh,
Noh watt der 's Maul aa nie net weh.
Des Wasser aa vum Matzeschnee
Iss arrig ut fer Aageweh;
Un iss mer awwer schlimm behaft,
Do wescht mer's Aag mit Rewesaft.
Schussbloder iss en gaschdich Ding;
Die reibt mer mit me Hochzichring.
En anner Middel iss bekannt,
Mer schtreicht sie mit me dode Hand.
Waer middem Finger'n Schpinn verdrickt,
Daer nie ken weher Finger gricht.
En wollner Bendel, wie bekannt,
Der bindt mer em en gschtreendi Hand.
En gud gedatti Oolehaut,
Die meen ich waer aa yuscht ebaut
So'n gudes Ding ass eener findt.
Broweier's mol, mei liewes Kind!
Un hot mer mol zu wennich Blut,
Fer sell sin die rode Riewe gut.
Im Sack, do draggt mer Deiwelsdreck,
Noh bleiwe aa die Paerble weck;
En deel, die draage yuscht en Zwiwwel,
Un sell iss aa gewiss net iwwel.
Un riecht mer dreimol in en Schuh,
Dann hot mer fer en Schnube Ruh.
Mit finger darrich die Zehe faahre,
Un dann en wennich rieche draa,
Do hoscht der Schnubbe ball verlore.
Mir hot's gholfe - helf der aa!

  Mer sinn noch net faddich middem Birmelin seim Gedicht, awwer weil mer neegscht Woch es Friehyaahr feiere misse, mache mer am siwweunzwansichschde weider mit dem do Schtick.

Macht's gut,
Der Alt Professer
 
Dear people:

   Solly Hulsbuck (actually Harvey miller, 1871-1939) at one time wrote: " Long before pharmacies (drug stores) were started up, Mom made remedies. She always had burdock root, sassafrass, lungwort, dock, snakeroot, sage, calamus/sweet flag, thornapple, tansy, thyme, wild cherry, boneset, and yarrow (lit. sheep's ribs) on hand."


   But as the Almanac Man, Henry A. Schuler (1850-1908), tells us in his piece for March, "In March there likes to be high, raw winds and sometimes March brings yet the most ugly winter weather afterwards - snow and sleet and a cold so bad that it makes one shudder to have to go out." And that means that we still have a good chance to get sick.


   But what con one do if Mother's remedies/cures don't help? Then we will have to read John Birmelin's (1873-1950) piece "Old Wives Beliefs" and follow his advice:

For a sore mouth, go spit into the fire;
That will just help you and doesn't cost much.
And spit into the fire so much more,
Then your mouth will never get sore.
Water from the snows of March
Is very good for sore eyes;
And if you are badly afflicted with it,
Then you wash your eye with grape vine sap.
A sty is a terrible thing;
One rubs it with a wedding ring.
Another medicine is well known.
One strokes it with a dead hand.
Whoever crushes a spider with his finger,
Will never get a sore finger.
A woolen string, as is well know,
One ties around a strained hand.
A well-dried eelskin,
I think it is just about
As good a thing as one can find.
Try it once, my dear child!
And if one once has too little blood,
For that, red beets are good.
In a bag, one carries asafoetida,
Then also the small pox stays away;
Some carry just an onion,
And that too isn't bad.
And if one smells three times in a shoe,
The one is rid of a head cold.
With your fingers run through your toes,
And smell them a little.
Then you have soon lost your cold.
It helped me -help yourself, too!

   We are not yet finished with Birmelin's poem, but because we have to celebrate Spring net week we will continue on the 27th with this piece.

Take care,
The Old Professor
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