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A Newfoundland Poem

First Rate, B'Y, How's Yerself?

The typical Newfoundlander
And I'm proud that I am one
Besides the Queen's good English, 
Has a language all his own.
For instance, if you meet one
And inquire about his health, 
He's not "just fine" or "like the bird"
He's "first rate b'y, how's yerself?"

Such sayings as "I bound you will",
"Save up" and "hard afore",
And "most to rights" and "straightened up",
And "dunch" and "doubt the fire"
These need no definitions, 
We heard them in our cradles,
We know how much a "yaffle" is
Though it isn't in our tables.

We all know what a "grapnel" is
A "haul-off" and a "killick"
I spent my time around the "punts",
Although I was a "twillick".
there's "slewed around" and "went to work"
"turned to" and "took a spell",
While of "clever" looking boys and girls 
I'm sure we've all "heard tell".

We go around the "ballycaters",
When there's "swatches" on the ice, 
And only a Newfoundlander
Can "fall down" and get a "h'ist".
You'd never guess a "bedlamer"
Is an adolescent lad, 
While intermittent snow flurries
Are "dwies" or just a "scad".

Now other people say "down south".
This I don't understand,
For everybody always says
"Down North" in Newfoundland.
"Bide where you're at" or "lef'n bide"
You'll hear the old folks say, 
We say we're drinkin' "switchel"
When we drink unsweetened "tay".

Some think we live on  fish and spuds,
This fairly makes me boil, 
Though 'tis a treat when Spring comes 'round,
To get a meal of "swile",
A local dish is "fish and brewis",
The youngsters like the "scrunchions",
And they like the "lassy sugar"
From the bottom of the puncheons.

Besides the regular meal time, 
You'll see "all hands" "knock off"
For their "lev'ner" and their "fourer",
A "mug up" or a "scoff",
We used to have such hearty "grub"
As "toutons", "duffs", and tarts
But the maids have gone romantic
When their cookies are shaped like hearts.

Poor Grandpa, he's "all crippled up"
With "rheumatiz" not "gout", 
He "keels out" on the "settle"
And says he's "fair worn out".
Sometimes he gets his "dander up"
Because he lost his spring,
He frets and grumbles when he thinks
How his work is all in slings.

Does your clock sometimes be "random"?
Were you ever on the "tear"?
Does your house be in a "ree-raw"?
Do you find things "shockin' dear"?
Or were you ever real "put out"?
Did you ever "notch a beam"?
If you're not a Newfoundlander
You don't know what I mean.

But times bring alterations, 
And soon we'll have no more,
Those quaint old local sayings
As in the days of yore.
Still in my heart I'll treasure them,
They'll always seem to be
A precious part of home sweet home,
To simple folk like me.


Rose M. Sullivan
Trinity, T.B. 

 

 

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