The Story of an old farmer in his late eighties/early nineties, he wasn’t quite sure which, who took a train journey. He said that he had lived in his village since the day he was born, never been anywhere else.
‘Booy! Oi’ve oonly bin t’ Lunn’n once in moy loife!’ he say.
‘Doon’t want t’goo agin!’ he added.
‘Went t’see a soliciter – bowt thutty, forty year agoo!’
‘Oi got on th’ tray’ne t’ come hoom, sat ‘air, awl t’moyself’.
He recounted how there weren’t any high speed inter-city trains. The train stopped at mosts stations from London Liverpool Street to Ipswich. A two-hour journey home lay ahead of him. The train as full of bench seats, the width of the carriage, facing each other. A picture of Southwold above one seat and a picture of Aldeburgh above the other.
‘Tray’ne start’d off, ‘n’ awl of a sudd’n, a fella in a pin stroipe suit, booler hat, brolly ‘n’ a brief case, starts racen th’ tray’ne – duzzy fool’. Th’ door floy oopen ‘n’ ‘iss ‘ear fella falls in – slams th’ door ‘n’ sits oppers’t’.
The farmer then relayed the following conversation:
‘Eevn’n!’
‘Oh! Good evening. Where are you going?’
‘Ipsidge’
‘So am I. It takes about two hours, you know’
‘Is ‘at a fact’
Why don’t we play a game of I-Spy – help pass the time?’.
‘No! Oi just want t’goo t’ sleep ‘n’ wake up in lpsidge
‘Why don’t we play Twenty Questions – help pass the time?’
‘No! ‘N’ wee’d need more ‘an twenty questions twixt heaya ‘n’ lpsidge!’
‘We must do something – let’s have a general knowledge quiz’
The farmer apparently told him what he could do with his general knowledge quiz, somewhere where the sun don’t shine.
‘Let’s make it interesting – I ask you a question, if you get it right, I give you ten pounds, but if you get it wrong, you give me ten pounds, and vice versa’.
‘How menny toimes dew Oi need t’ tell yew?’
‘Okay – okay – okay, if you get it right, I give you a hundred pounds and if you get it wrong, you give me ten pounds. Any questions you ask me, I get it wrong, I give you one hundred pounds. I get it right, I get ten pounds’.
‘Mmmm … Awl roight … yew goo fust.’
‘What were the closing prices of Rowntrees on the stock market this afternoon?’
Well the farmer didn’t know the answer and he handed over ten pounds.
‘Your go, your go’
‘Don’t hurry me, Oi’m Suffolk … What goos up hill with forwer legs, ‘n’ comes down’n hill with three?’
‘Pardon?’
‘What goos up hill with forwer legs, ‘n’ comes dow’n hill with three?’
Well, the city man didn’t know the answer, he handed over a hundred pounds to the farmer.
‘Well … what does go up hill with four legs and down with three?’
The farmer waited a while … thought … and gave the city man ten pounds back. He also reminded the city man, that it was the farmer’s go again!
