"Eawr Sarah's Getten a Chap" Recited By Wilfred Pickles English Lancashire Dialect Poem animation





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Published on Sep 30, 2012

Here's a virtual movie of the celebrated British actor and broadcaster Wilfred Pickles giving his enjoyable recital of a dialect poem employing the speech style found in Lancashire Northern England "Eawr Sarah's Getten a Chap" (Our Sarah's Got a boyfriend) By the celebrated Lancashire dialect poet Sam Fitton (1868 - 1923).This charming lighthearted poem describes the paranoa that sweeps a working class family family when one of the daughters gets a boyfriend and.in the panic hey all start putting on airs and graces in response to the notion they have formed that the boyfriend may be from a higher social class.

Wilfred Pickles OBE (13 October 1904 -- 26 March 1978) was an English actor and radio presenter.
Born in Halifax in the West Riding of Yorkshire, Pickles was a proud Yorkshireman, and having been selected by the BBC as an announcer for its North Regional radio service, went on to be an occasional newsreader on the BBC Home Service during World War II. He was the first newsreader to speak in a regional accent rather than Received Pronunciation, "a deliberate attempt to make it more difficult for Nazis to impersonate BBC broadcasters",[1] and caused some comment with his farewell catchphrase "... and to all in the North, good neet". His first professional appearance was as an extra in Henry Baynton's production of Julius Caesar at the Theatre Royal in Halifax in the 1920s.[2]
Pickles soon became a radio celebrity, and also pursued an acting career in London's West End theatre, on television and film.

On 27th November 1941, he was invited to join the BBC in London, and he was one of the first people to read the news in a regional accent, a part of a plan by Brendan Bracken, the Minister of Information, and the BBC, to avoid enemy infiltration of the media during World War II. His accent and his homely style provoked much criticism, and his closing "Good neet" was received with mixed feelings although the overall response was favourable.

Pickles began broadcasting poetry on his show The Pleasure's Mine in the late 1940's this recording made in 1960 is done in much the same style. He had a superb voice for poetry recital.

Sam Fitton is one of the favourite Lancashire dialect writers. He lived from 1868 to 1923 and though born in Congleton, Cheshire, is mainly associated with Rochdale. He started work in the cotton industry but then went to art school and developed his skills as a writer, cartoonist and reciter of dialect poems and prose. He wrote of towns and people, not the countryside.

Kind Regards

Jim Clark
All rights are reserved on this video recording copyright Jim Clark 2012

Our Sarah's Gettin' a Chap..

Eh, dear; there's bin some change in
Eawr heause this week or two;
Wheer once there used to be a din
It's like a Sunday schoo';
We never feight for apple pie,
We very seldom frap;
An' what d'ye think's the reason why?
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

Eawr fender shines just like a bell,
We'n had it silvered o' er;
An' th' cat appears to wesh itsel'
Moor often than before;
Eawr little Nathan's wiped his nose,
Eawr Jimmy's brushed his cap;
An' o this fuss is just becose
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He's one o' thoose young "nutty" men,
They sen he's brass an' o,
My mother's apron's allus clen,
For fear he gives a co;
We'n polished up th' dur knocker, too;
We'r swanky yo' con tell;
But Sarah says it winno do,
We'st ha' to have a bell.

We bowt a carpet t'other neet,
To wear it seems a sin;
My feyther has to wipe his feet
Before he dar' come in;
He never seems a'whoam someheaw,
He says he's noan on th' map;
He allus wears a collar neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

We'n serviettes neaw when we dine;
A brand new bib for Ben;
Eawr Fanny's started talkin' fine,
Wi' lumps in neaw an' then,
Sin' Sarah geet her fancy beau
Hoo fairly cocks her chin;
Hoo has a bottom drawer an' o
To keep her nick-nacks in.

Hoo's wantin' this, an' wantin' that,
Hoo thinks we're made o' brass;
Hoo goes to th' factory in her hat,
Hoo says ut it's moar class;
Hoo's bucked my feyther up shuzheaw,
He darno' weara cap;
He gets his 'bacco chepper neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He comes o' courtin' every neet,
He fills eawr cat wi' dread;
He's sky-blue gaiters on his feet,
An' hair-oil on his yed;
He likes to swank about an' strut
An' talk abeawt his "biz";
He's "summat in an of fice," but
I don't know what it is.

His socks are crimson lined wi' blue,
I weesh he'd do a guyi
I weesh he'd pop the question, too,
Or pop his yallow tie;
My feyther darno' raise a row,
An' th' childer darno' scrap;
We feel to live i' lodgin's neaw
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

He's put eawr household in a whirl,
He's sich a howlin' swell;
I weesh he'd find another girl,
Or goo an' loose hissel';
Eawr parrot's gone an' cocked its toes,
Eawr roosters conno' flap;
We'er gooin' daft an' o becose
Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.

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