A tramcar was making its stately way to Dudley Port. After a while the
driver realised that he was catching up rapidly with a man pushing a
hand-cart down the middle of the tramway. The driver braked and rang his
warning bell (foot operated).
The “bloke” pushing the cart took no notice.
The tram driver stamped even harder on the warning bell.
Still the bloke took no notice.
The driver got as near as he dared and stuck his head round the front of
“Hey, yo!” He yelled, “Cor yo’ get out the road ?”
At last the bloke with the handcart turned his head.
“Ar ! Ah con”, he said, “But yo’ cor !”
Ali had been out of work for months. Then one day he met Aynuck as usual
in the “Round o’ Beef”
“Eh ! our mate, “ he said, “Ah gorra job,”
“Oh ah !” said Aynuck, “Wot sort o’ job is it ?”
“Ah’m a corsetier” was the reply.
“Go on, do tork ser daft” said Aynuck, “Yo cor be a corsetier, that’s
“Ah tell yer, ah’m a corsetier at th’Odeon.”
“Well - ah’ve ‘eard some taels in mah time, but ah’ve never ‘eard of a
corsetier at th’Odeon; Wot jer after do ?”
“Well, when ah sees somebody a-gooin ter sit in the shillin’ saytes an
they got a sixpenny ticket, ah tells um ‘yo’ cor sit ‘ere’”
A devout old lady had a parrot which was much addicted to foul language,
so the parrot in its cage was covered up every Sunday to avoid profaning the
The parrot had been uncovered as usual one Monday when in the afternoon
the Vicar was seen coming up the path. The old lady hastily covered up the
cage as she opened the door. Just as conversation was about to start, there
came from under the cover: “Bloody short wik that was!”
© The Estate of William John Green, 2004