THE last look that we had was from owd Northwetch folk, so we had better try a story from Middlewich where they talked the same.

I have borrowed the story from an old newspaper dated 1983.

Middlewich is famous for its canals and over the years many people have worked on them. 

The dialect from old Cheshire was what one would hear when in pubs and sitting at the canal side.

So let’s have a listen to two old codgers sitting by one of the many locks. 
They are discussing Middlewich in times past and what has happened to it in their view. 

Northwich Guardian:

The conversation had paused for a second for Bill so that he could light his pipe.
Bill continuing “.....an al tell they summat else, the winner say any boats carryin sort nar. 

“Dust they know, ah heerd a mon talkin’ to a forriner tuther dee an’ he sez ‘Ah’m a sort meeker an ah’m on me wee work nah’.”

Albert: “Sort meeker!”

Bill: “Ah dunner s’pose he’s ere sayn a sort pon. Eed gotten a suit a clooers on better than ar boss use weer.”

Albert: “Ast sayn what thee doin’ weer Siddons Pepper Strate was? There inner a sort works chimley left I’ Middlewich.”

Bill: “Aw thee want do is pull things dine an’ cheenge everyweer.”

Albert poking his pipe: “Thiz only two pleeces left wheer ah con get me heef inece a twist.”

Bill: “Wych’ice Leen, Siddon’s Bruk’s Leen, Murgies, theyn aw gone.”

Albert: “A few wick ago thee pult th’owd Volunteers Drill ‘All dine.
“Me owd granddad was in that Rigiment when e’ worked at Cheshire Kimic nex’ doer, an luk at Brunners Kimic, what theyn done there. 
“Ya conner tell weer y’are eef the time.”

Bill: “Eber Bunns farm gone an theyn built summat at Muck Olliers, ah dunno wor it is, dust thee?”

Albert had a think: “Ah’m no’ sure, but ah think its muck fac’try or sum such, leastwees.
“That’s wor it smells like to may. Ast sayn Say Bonk?
“This nowt there ony open speeces. Thee gewin mad.”

Bill: “Thi’ll be nowt left o’ th’ owd tine soon ony th’ owd church.”

Albert: “If ahd owt do with it, fost thing ah’d do ‘ud be ter.”

At this point a young lad walked towards them with his transister radio belting out rock songs. 

The old chaps paused their chat and the lad walked past, the lingering smell of thin twist tobacco in the air, in his own world and never realising that he had been in the presence of Middlewich past.