PA
German Dialect
Es Neinuhr Schtick
December
29, 2005
Ihr liewe Leit:
Es iss Zeit fer en Kallem zu lese ass der Parre Pierce E. Swope (ya,
richdich, der Kaschpar Hufnagel, 1884-1968) graad am End vun 1950 in der
Lebanon Daily News gschriwwe hot:
Grischtdaag iss nau verbei. Unser aarreme Meege sin widder zerrick uff
ihre regulare Koscht un mir fiehle all viel besser. Mir sin widder an unsere
Alldaags Arrewet,un mir sin aa froh ass mir noch lewe un gsund sin.
Am Mondaag gehne mer ins nei Yaahr, des Yaahr 1951 (fer uns heit,
nadierlich, 2006). Des sett en grooser Daag sei, awwer mer sin noch zu hatt
ausgeschpielt fer viel mache devun. Mir sin so gschwische drin, gschwische
Grischtaag un Neiyaahr.
Der anner Daag hot mich so en yunger schlitzohricher Kall schier gaar
gfange. Er hot mich gfroogt, ;Kaschpar, weescht du ass en neegsccht Yaahr es
Neiyaahr kummt eb Grischtdaag?” Ich hab schier gebisse. Weescht, ich bin nimmi
so gschwinnt uffem Dricker.
“Ya,” hawwich gsaat, “du bischt recht. In allem Yaahr kummt es
neiyaahr eb Grischtdaag.” Glaabscht du sell aa? Es iss waahr.
Do iss aa en schlicki Schtori. En dummer Rilps iss an der Diepo
kumme in Lebanon un hot der Kall hinner de Schprosse gfroogt, “Wi weit iss es
noch Fillidelfi?”
“Dreiunachtzich Meil,” hot der Kall ihm gsaat.
“Sell iss awwer weit. Do mist mer awwer frieh uffschteh fer
hiekumme in eem Daag. Awwer wie weit iss es vun Fillidelfi zerrick noch
Lebanon?”
“Hawwich der net yuscht gsaat dreiunachtzich Meil? Es iss graad so
weit ee Weg ass wie der anner.”
“Ya, ich sehn. Awwer des halt net immer aus. Es iss en Woch vun
Grischtdaag bis Neiyaahr, awwer es iss eenunfuffzich Woch vun neiyaah bis
Grischtdaag.”
Ya, sell iss recht. Yuscht heit sin mer graad gschwische drin.
Sell waar gut! Nau lese mer was der Frank H. Oberholtzer mol
gschriwwe hot:
Ich winsch eich im neie Yaahr
Mehner Glick ass wie zuvor;
Langes Lewe un Gesundheit
Un aa vieli Hallichkeit.
Meecht ihr frei vun Sarrige sei,
Luschdich un doch aernscht debei;
Un en seeliched Schicksal,
Des soll kumme zu all!
Un nau winscht der alt Professer eich all en glickseeliches
NeiYaahr, vun do bis naus ans Scheierdor!
Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer
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Dear people:
It is time to read a column that Pastor Pierce H. Swope (yes,
you’re right, Caspar Horseshoe Nail, 1884-1968) right at the end of 1950
wrote in the Lebanon Daily News:
Christmas is now over/past. Our poor stomachs are again back on
their regular food and we all feel much better. We are again at our
everyday work, and we are also happy that we are still alive and healthy.
On Monday (Sunday for us at this time) we go into the new year, the
year 1951 (for us, 2006). That should be a great day, but we are still too
much played out to make much of it. We are in between, between Christmas
and New Year.
The other day one of those young, mischievous fellows almost caught
me. He asked, “Caspar, do you know that next year New Y ear comes before
Christmas?” I almost bit. You know, I am no longer as fast on the trigger.
“Yes,” I said, “you are right. In every y ear New Year comes before
Christmas.” Do you believe that too? It is true.
Here is a slick story. A stupid fellow came to the depot in Lebanon
and asked the fellow behind the window, “How far is it to Philadelphia?”
“Eighty-three miles.” The fellow told him.
“My, but that’s far. One would have to get up early to get there in
one day. But how far is it from Philadelphia back to Lebanon?”
“Did I not just tell you eighty-three miles? It is just as far one
way as it is the other.”
“Yes, I see. But that does not always hold out/true. It is a week
from Christmas to New Year, but it is 51 weeks from New Year to
Christmas.”
Yes that is right. Just today we are right in between.
That was good! Now we are going to read what Frank H. Oberholtzer
once wrote:
I wish you all in the new year
More luck/happiness than ever before;
A long life and health
And also much jolity.
May you all be free of cares,
Happy but also serious;
And a blessed fate,
This should come all to you!
And now the Old Professor wishes you all a blessed New Year, from hear
out to the barn door!
Take care,
The Old Professor
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