Читать книгу Lancashire Folk-lore - Thomas Turner Wilkinson - Страница 17

HORNBY PARK MISTRESS AND MARGARET BRACKIN.

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The following story is told and believed by some persons in Hornby. The Park Mistress may be supposed to be the ghost of Lady Harrington, who committed murder three hundred years ago. Margaret Brackin was born in 1745, and died in 1795. The dialect is that of the locality:—

"In days that oud folks tell on still,

Meg Brackin went up Windy Bank;

Shou lated kinlin' on the hill,

Till owr t' Lake Mountains t' sun it sank.

Nat lang at efter t' sun was set,

And shou hed fill'd her brat wi' sticks,

Shou sid aside at t' Park wood yett,

A woman stan'in mang the wicks.

T' leaves on t' trees, they owm'ered t' land,

And fadin' was the summer light,

When Marget sid that woman stand

Donn'd like a ghoost o' oor i' white.

Marget was fear'd, but spak and ex'd,

'Hey Missis! let me gang wi' ye,

I hope as that ye'll nut be vext,

But it is gitten dark and dree.'

T' Park Mistress e'en shin'd o' wi' leet;

Shou whyatly cam te Marget's side;

T' gerss didn't bend underneath her feet;

Shou seem'd in t' air te float and glide.

As soon's shou cam whare Marget stood,

Shou gript a tight houd on her hand;

Shou led her first intul t' Park wood,

Then back and forret o' owr t' land.

They kept na road, they kept na path,

They went thro' brackins, scrogs, and briar,

Marget shou soon was out of breath,

But t' lady didn't seem te tire.

They baath com down te Wenning's brink,

And Marget's throat was dry wi' dread,

But shou dursn't ex te stop and drink,

Saa forret still that woman led.

Owr shillar and rough staans they trod,

Intu t' Wenning, then out fra t' stream;

Surlie their walkin' wasn't snod,

T' way they travell'd was naan saa weam.

Marget lous'd t' strings of her brat,

And trail'd it gerss and bushes through,

Till deg'd and damp and wet it gat;

Then suck'd it out for t' cooling dew.

Fra Weaver's Ayr they went up t' wood,

Now gaain' straight and then aslant,

They niver stopt, they niver stood,

But raac'd up t' brow saa rough and brant.

Marget could niver gradely say Where nesht wi' t' ghoost shou went that neet; On Windy Bank, when it was day, They fun' her liggin, spent wi' freet.

Marget hed been stout and throddy,

But t' walk she tuk that summer neet,

Left lile fatness on her body;

At efter shou was thin and leet."

Lancashire Folk-lore

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