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Document 526

Craiters: 02 - Kippert

Author(s): Alexander Fenton

Copyright holder(s): Alexander Fenton

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It wis on a Wednesday, e secont o Mey 1923 tae be exact. I min e day fine. We caad three loadies o corn intill e barn in e mornin, an syne we threesh, an aifter wir denner we caad in e lave, ere wis nine loads in be e eyn o e day. I min e loon wis grubbin e siderigs, gettin e grun ready for shaavin neeps. It's funny e wye ye min things files. It wis a caal day, bit it turnt oot aafa fine, an fin we wis at wir denner ere wis sax aeraplanes geed ower. E road-roller wis on e go on e road ootside tee.

I geed up tae hae a look at it an hae a news wi e road boys. Ere wis aye a bit o funnin wi em, especially Willie. His faither wis a fairmer up e road. E wis an aafa shy kinna billie in e ornar coorse, bit eence ye got tae ken im, e wis aa richt. E kent an aafa lot o es sangs. I min eence I hyowt neeps wi im for siveral days an e sangs an e verses niver divallt, God e wis jist a richt divert. Bit gin ony strange body wis aboot, nae a squeak wid ye get oot o im.

Es day, though, e wis aafa soor on't.

'Aye, Willie', I says.

'Aye', he said, short like. E widna look me richt in e face.

'Caal kin', I says.

'Aye'.

'Did ye see e aeraplanes? Ere wis sax, ye ken'.

'Nuh', e said

'Aye, ey geed ower jist aboot an oor seen, ye couldna bit a seen em. Ower fae e Geese Peel haan, across e Howe, an oot o sicht ower Mains Hill. Ye'd a been a bittie abeen e Smiddy at e time'.

Willie niver spak, bit ontill e machine, ettlin tae gie't a shofelfae o coal. I aye likit e smell o traction ingines an road rollers, a kinna sulphur an stame, ye micht say. E ither lads hid been doon e road afore Willie wi e wagon, pittin in a fyow patches faar e surface hid been sookit wi snaa. E wis im leen drivin, back an fore, back an fore ower ilky patch, an syne ay haad on tae keep tee till em.

I walkit roon e roller a bit, fine pleaset wi't tickin awa ere like a clock, an Willie up on e platform be noo wi eez han on e wheel. I geed roon be e front an took a look at er, an I jist happent tae notice a kinna damp bittie, aa at ye'd ken a reidy colour, on e front o e big roller an in ower e rim o't.

'Fit kinna mark's at, Willie?', I shoutit up till im.

Willie spak.

'Oot o ere!',

e roaret, openin er up, an aff e set alang e road chook-chookin aa e machine wis able. Wisn't at a queer kinna thing noo? I'd niver kent im like at. Ah weel, I hid tae yoke Bobie tae get in fit wis left o e ruckie, an fit wi biggin e cairt, an chasin a rat fin we'd gotten till e foon, Willie geed clean oot o ma heid again.

E neesht day it wis jist e normal roon, odd bits o jobbies, sortin e palin, gaitherin knot girse an openin dreels for tatties. Northies socht a shot o ma shaavin machine tae get eez girse-seed in. Him an me wis aye rale gweed at neeperin. I niver thocht tae mention Willie till im though, bit on e Friday I'd an eeran doon till e Station, seein aboot a new tablie comin fae Aiberdeen wi e cairrier, an I got a bag o coal tae tak hame. I cam on een o e road-lads in aboot for coal tee.

‘Aye, an faar's Willie e day?'

‘Seek'.

'Seek?'

‘Aye. E bugger niver took e machine richt hame on Wednesday, left it at e fit o e brae, an e hisna been oot o eez hoose since'.

'E wis fairly a bittie queer like fin I saa im. Oh weel, I hope e'll be aa richt. Tell im I wis speerin for im gin ye see im'.

'Aye'.

Willie, peer breet, e bade be imsel bit e wis ay richt tidy.

It wis a speecial pleasant evenin an I took a danner up be Northies. He'd gotten a new mull in nae lang seen, an an ingine tae caa't. Fin e wis gettin't riggit ere wis some pipe missin, aye, e exhaast ye ken, an for a start we wis like tae be smoret. E wis sayin it wis aa richt noo. I spak aboot Willie till im. North Pitties is a heich set fairmie, gey caal in e winter an ye canna get up e road for e snaa, bit it his a graan ootlook an ere wisna a lot Northies didna see.

'Oh', e said, 'at's queer at, I some thocht it wis e roller ere wis something vrang wi'.

'Foo at?'

'Weel, e ither day I jist happent tae see e reek o't aboot e Cross. It wis stoppit a gweed lang time, I couldna mak oot fit it wis deein. At ae meenit I noticet e reek wisna jist e usual, it hid a kinna ily black appearance, an at laistit for a filie ir it stoppit. Fitiver it wis, it mn a redd itsel up, for nae lang aifter she wis haddin doon by e smiddy'.

'Ere'd been something tae upset im, surely. E wis in a richt ill teen. An I heard e left it at e boddem o e Brae an niver feesht intill e depot'.

'Weel-a-wyte!'

It wis aboot a wik ahin es, jist a fearfae time o snaa an sleet an nae growth in e girse. Northies wis doon offerin some neeps if we couldna get e stirks oot, an dyod we hid tae get e twa loadies fae im, for e stormy widder niver upplet nor divallt. I'd tae lowse fae drivin wydes an I wis jist giein Bobie a rub-doon in e stable fin a mannie cam roon e nyeuk o e close wheelin eez byke.

'Weel, fairmer, ye're in e lythe'.

'Aye, ivnoo'.

E'd on a blue kinna cape, an e reverset e byke half in throwe e stable door tae had e saiddle oan got weet fin e took it aff. Nae't it wid a maittert. E legs o eez briks wis gey sypit onywye.

'Sic a day'

'Aye'.

'I'm e bobby fae Inverurie', e said. 'I'm prosecutin an offeecial investigation'.

'Are ye though?'

'Aye. It wis aboot a young lad at wis on e go aboot a wik seen. Did ye see ony strangers on e road?'

'Na, deil e een, ere wis jist e road lads I saa. Fit kinna lad wis e?'

'Oh, it wis a Gairman. E cam in by me speerin aboot archyological sites, nae things I ken muckle aboot, bit I tell't im tae gyang tae see e circle o steens at Aquhorthies. Weel, e managet at an boy he wis fair trickit, syne e traivelt back an speert foo tae get tae Auchterless, ere wis some steens e wintit tae look at ere, forbye ere wis appeerently a Roman camp somewye aboot. Losh, I doot e Romans widna hae geen aboot biggin camps if ey'd come in es widder. A queer kinna wye e spak, "Sank you, sank you", e wid say. Ye'd fairly min on im gin ye'd spoken till im'.

'A Gairman? Ye'd think ey widna hae e neck tae show eir faces hereaboot'.

'Oh weel, e wis a weel-mainnert lad. Haad awa fae e wye e spak, e lookit jist like wirsels. A "stoo-dent", e said e wis'.

'Weel, I've seen naething o im. Bit hiv ye nae trace o im ava?'

'E got e bus tae come in e road, an somebody saa im comin aff o't aboot Linshie, bit aifter at nae hide nor hair o im. I've been up at e steen circle on Mains Hill, an e's nae at e back o a steen ere. An e's nae up at e Roman camp, ir at least nae tae be seen if e is, I geed richt up e hill ower e burn tae this cairnies ey caa e Fite Steens, bit na, na, neen o yer Keyser's bairns ere.'

'Imphm. An fit'll ye dee noo?'

'I'll try e places farrer doon e road. He micht a gotten as far as Turra, ye ken, an syne teen a bus again tae Banff ir back tae Aiberdeen. Bit e hisna been seen ere, for eez freens hid been expeckin im a fyow days back. It was em at reportit es lad wis missin, Will-helm Joe-hannin's eez name, appeerently. Weel, I'll haad on. Ye'll let's ken gin ye hear onything'.

'Aye'.

Ah weel, we got ower e gab o Mey an a day ir twa aifter at we got e beas oot, an even tried e horse on e girse aa nicht. E Mrs an me wis socht ower tae Feithies on e aifterneen o e Sabbath an we geed ower e hill on wir bykes tae see es new wireless receiver ey'd been lashin oot on. Damn't, it played meesic an aathing, bit whot a begeck we got fin we heard o wir ain districk on e news: a general call for onybody tae let e police ken if ey'd seen a Gairman student, said tae hae been studyin archyological sites, last seen in e viceenity o e fairm o Linshie, Auchterless, on e aifterneen of Wednesday the secont of May, when he descendit fae e bus an appeared tae set off along the Turriff road. The missin man wis aboot 5ft 10 wi close-cropped dark hair an kinna thick glaisses, an cairriet a leather bag on eez back. Anyone havin information as to his present whereaboots should contact...' an so on. Wisna at winnerfae noo? A rale fairly. It wis a spik for a day ir twa.

Nae lang ahin es, e Mrs geed up tae the Aalyoch tae see a freen an get er tae. I bykit up for er in e evenin, an cam aff ma byke at yon steep bit abeen e smiddy, an walkit by e Cross. Jock Mull hid e placie jist abeen e Cross an e happent jist tae be dargin wi a spaad at a big steen in e nyeuk o e park ere.

'Aye Jock'.

'Aye. Ye're on e ran-dan'.

'Aye. Jist awa up for e Mrs. She got a hurl up till e Aalyoch wi e grocer .'

'Oh aye'.

'Wis'n at a queer thing aboot at Gairman - I heard it on e wireless receiver at Feithies. Ye didna see e Gerrie yersel?'

'Na'.

Jock pit doon e spaad, an cam closer till's. E wis a gey cannie lad, niver hurriet. E took a packetie o tebacca oot o's pooch, rowed a paperie roon't, syne stuck it in eez moo. E ripit in eez pooch again an brocht oot a wee boxie at hid some broon paper in't. It hid been soakit in saltpetre an driet oot. Ere wis a fleerish in e boxie tee, an a bit o flint at hid a bonnie orange colour. Jock tore aff a bittie o e broon paper, an held it abeen eez smoke, syne knackit e fleerish anenst e flint an up e sparks flew, gweed fat sparks, an God it wisna secints till e broon paper took an e reek wis fleein. Aifter a fyow puffs, e says -

'I doot ere's something nae richt'.

'Is e wife weel enyeuch?'

'Na, it's naething tae dee wi me. It's Willie I'm some baddert aboot' .

'E road lad?'

'Aye. Ye ken me an eez faither aye neepert, we've been richt gweed freens. An Willie vrocht a lot aboot es place tee fin e wis a loon. E wis like a sin till's, it wis jist a rale disappintment fin e left e fairm. E wis at bashfae, e'd niver think tae tak ower e place aifter eez fadder, e'd jist niver a managet it. I widna like tae see onything happenin till im'.

'I ken. I haard e wis seek, like, bit fit wid be ahin't? I spak till im oan day e geed doon e road wi e roller an I cwidna get a richt wird oot o im'.

'Weel, it's been badderin's a lot an I dinna ken richt fit tae think. Bit atween wirsels, min, at roller affair wis aafa queer'.

Jock wis needin tae teem eez crap. E wis een o es gaant kinna lads, it didna maitter fit e ate, ye'd a thocht it jist geed throwe im. E'd a dark kinna skin, an ay e bonnet on's heid. Fin e took it aff tae gie eez baldy heid a claa it wis like a fite meen shinin, wi a rim o hairies aboot eez lugs. E'd shave aye on a Sunday tae redd e wik's stibble, jist e plain kitchen soap an e cut-throat, an bilet watter oot o an iron kettle. Nae at e wis muckle o a han for e kirk, it wisna for at e wis shavin, it's jist at e feck o e men hereaboot aye likit tae mak emsels mair decent at e onset o e wik. E'd aye on a shaftit weskit an a sark buttont up till eez neck, hait or caal e niver wore onything different, haad awa fae an aal cwite in e rochest o widder. I widna winner gin e'd sleepit in eez sark, bit e fairly took aff e draaers an briks for e'd fower lassies an a laddie. A richt fine lad, Jock, jist a gem, ere's mony a mart we'd been at egidder an we'd maybe hae a glaiss o e richt stuff aifter, bit neen o's wis drinkers an we didna gang teerin aboot an makin a carant an feels o wirsels like some lads at bade nae at far awa fae's. I niver thocht ye cd lippen richt on at fowk at took ower much.

Ah weel, we wis richt gweed freens, an I cd see ere'd been something in eez heid for a filie, e'd maybe seen e Mrs gaan up e road an some thocht I'd be by later, for fit e wis deein wi e steen wis o nae God's eese fitsaeiver .

Appeerently, on e day I've been spikkin aboot, e'd been sittin in e kitchen haein a fly-cup. Ere'd been some wird aboot comin in wi sharny beets, so Jock'd lowsed e pints an slippit em aff, though ere wis mair wird syne aboot e bitties o strae e wis spreadin ower e linoleum, for e'd fresh straed eez beets at mornin in e byre. E wis parkit at e fireside, on e aal widden airmcheer wi a wee faalin doon bit on e airm, jist fine for haddin e cup, fangin in till a shafe o breed clairtit wi rhubarb jam. E jar wis a bittie oot o date an e jam hid granulatit, bit neen e waar tae taste for aa at. Ye cd aye knack e sugary bits wi yer teeth.

Gin it hidna been for e reeshlie noise inside eez heid, he'd a heard e roller seener. In e normal coorse, ye cd hear ony vyackles comin ben e road, an ye cd peek oot o e fower- peened gale windae tae see faa it wis. Jock kent e maist o em. Es day, be e time e heard e chuffin, e roller wis in e halla an aa e saa wis es black rik yomin oot o er. Him in e middle o eez piece an e beets aff, e cwidna jist rin oot for a look, sae e jist chaaed awa an sookit in sups o tae throwe e trailin edges o eez mowser.

Weel, aye e rik appeart an begod ere wis a lad came intae sicht in eez park for a meenit, till e nyeuk o e waa blockit e vyow. Ere wis a black bag ower eez shooder, gey hivvy like. Jock thocht e'd come in by, sae e wytit for e knock, bit na, na, an it wisna lang ir e boy poppit up again, still wi e bag bit it wiz rowed up aneth's oxter, an e wis gaan at a gey lick. Jock thocht it wis aafa like Willie, though e couldna be richt sure.

E got e beets runkit again, an oot tae see fit'd been gn on. E saa naething aboot e hooses, nor roon e back. At e eyn o e steadin, neesht e horse-gang faar e horse traivelt roon an roon an dreeve e mullie, ere wis e tail eyn o a hey soo, stannin still a fyow feet high, bit it hid been aa connacht wi watter an e hey wis black an fool lookin, nae eese for feed. Jock noticet ere'd been some disturbance at e side o't, e same's a gweed lump hid been haalt oot an biggit up again. E steed a file an lookit, bit canny lad at e wis, e didna interfere wi't. Syne e steppit ower e park, followin e feetprints in e dubbie grun, as far's e road. Be es time e roller wis awa. E hid a look aboot. Ere wis some kinna black marks on e surface, an a speecial big patch at hid been weel battert doon aside em. At wis aa. E lookit up e road an doon. It wis jist as teem's it aye wis. As e turnt awa tae haad back till e close, e glint o something catchet eez ee on e patch. Wi a closer look e saa it wis a cornerie aff a roonaboot bittie o glaiss, like a glaisses glaiss. It could a catchet e tyre o a byke, sae e poochet it. Ere wis some fite bitties amon e tarrie steens tee, bit withoot eez specs e couldna mak oot fit ey were.

Jock wisna fit ye'd caa supersteetious ir onything like at. Aa e same, e didna aathegither like stannin ere, an e didna like at disturbance at e hey soo, bit ere wis something at widna let im look ony mair. E geed hame tae see till's horse.

At nicht Jock didna sleep as soon's e wis eest till, curlt up atween e wife an e waa. She wis aye first up in e mornin tae get e fire goin. She cd fair rattle e poker ower e ribs o e grate an if ye wisna waakent fin she startit, ye widna be sleepin fin she wis deen. Fowk aye took a teet oot first thing tae see faas lums wis rikkin. It didna dee tae be late in e mornin ir ey'd be sayin fin ye forgaithert at e mart or e smiddy or e souter's shop -

‘Aye, Jock, I doot ye wis some latchy es mornin, I didna see yer lum rikkin fin I lookit oot'.

No, it did not dee. Bit e wife wisna bad at gettin a spunk till e paper an a kettle hotterin for a cup o tae e time e pottitch wis beginnin tae bubble.

It wis a restless nicht for Jock. E wisna exactly dreamin, bit e ay min't on e black bag at Willie'd been cairryin. Ere wis nae doot wi im noo bit fit it wis Willie e'd seen. Ere wis a kinna shape aboot e bag, near han human if ye let yer fancy go a bit, an fit wye wid Willie quarry aboot an aal hey soo? It wisna mowse.

Ay at nicht Jock took a take e wye o e midden afore gaan till eez bed, an hid a look at e sky an e meen an e stars, notin e airt o e win an fit wye e cloods wis blaain, an God e first nicht aifter at, e set oot withoot thinkin, syne e picter o e bag cam intill eez heid, sae nae farrer a step did e tak, bit roon till e back o e hoose. It got tae be e'd harly gang oot o e hoose at aa, except for deein fit hid tae be deen amon e beas, an back in as seen's ye like. E eence ir twice e'd been by e eyn o e steadin e hey soo wis ay ere, an aifter e caal o e gab o Mey, fin it cam warmer widder, ere wis aa ye wid ken o a queer smell in e air, like a hen at hid deet and lien ower lang oot o sicht in a dreel.

E got richt wirkit up, an though e said niver a wird at hame, e wife hid startit tae look at im gey queer. Weel, es day e Mrs geed up till e Aalyoch, e van wis in by Jock's, an her wi't. Sae e kent faar she wis gaan an she mentiont at I wid gie er a convoy hame later on. Iv coorse, be e time I got aa es tale oot o im, I clean forgot faar I'd been gaan, an losh, didn' e cairrier nae appear on e road an e Mrs wavin oot o e windae as she geed by.

'At's my kail throwe e rik e nicht', I says.

'I'll be gettin some wirdies tee, I doot', says Jock

Weel, aifter at, I socht tae see faar e roller hid stoppit on e road. Ere wis a big patch o rollt metal. I'd better een 'n Jock an richt enyeuch ere wis a lot o fite speckies, an fit ye'd a thocht wis a bunch o black threid stickin oot at ae bit. I took e pynt o ma knife an scrapit a bittie. E fite lumpies wisna hard, ere wis jist nae doot at aa it wis bitties o been, an queerer'n at, e black threids wis stuck till a bit, though aathing wis aafa clortit wi tarry stuff. It wis enyeuch tae blaik a buddy, an I cwidna jist let masel think fit it wis aa aboot. Nae mair cd Jock. We baith turnt awa an walkit back till e spaad. Bit I begood tae min on e wireless receiver, an on e Friday paperies, an e news at wis ay in em: 'missing boy's parents' distress... reward offered for information.' Fit e hell hid been goin on aboot e Cross?

Jock wis mair easy like noo we'd spoken. We didna discuss e maitter, though. I'd ma ain beas tae see till, sae I whuppit ma leg ower e saiddle an shoutit –

'Weel weel aan',

an left Jock stumpin ower e park.

In e neesht months, I'd see Jock noo an aan bit we spak nae mair aboot oan thing, an said nedder echie nor ochie till onybody else. E Gairman loon wisna fun, an e papers are nae lang o drappin a subjick gin ere's nae richt news in't.

Fit I did notice, though, wis Willie. I saa im eence on e road an spak, bit e peyed nae heed. E'd walk up as far as Pitties, syne e'd turn an gang back tae Turra. Appeerently e'd niver been hame tae see eez fowk since at day in Mey. Nae doot ere wis something far vrang. I didna like tae see Willie like at, him an me'd been thrang afore es. An aye Jock's story hung in ma heid. I cwidna forget at black bag, likely for coal, an fin I wis up e park ae day e picter o at black ily rik cam back intae ma heid. Aye, it wis eerie. I wis beginnin tae get some glimmerins o thochts, nae at I wis seekin em, ye ken, bit ere wis nae haadin em. I widna winner gin Jock'd e same ideas. Onywye, I didna ken, for withoot a word o agreement ye cd see we wisna gn tae spread e tale aboot. An Jock did naething aboot e soo, there it wis left tae staan, nae bit fit e hey'd been sair connacht afore onywye.

Doon aboot Turra, I haard at Willie'd niver geen back till e roller. E'd left it a richt mess, appeerently e fire wis half chokit an full o bits o run metal at e fite eisels hid meltit. E road boys hid got er cleant oot, though.

Weel, we got e crap in an hairstit in fine order, an syne intae the plooin, an e pooin o neeps eence e beas wis teen in. E New Ear cam, an e snaa fell an meltit an froze an e roads took an aafa batterin. Jock cam in aboot ae day. E speert if I'd come up by a meenit. I bykit up wi im, nedder o's sayin onything. Ere wis some saft spots on e road, ye felt em as yer tyres geed ower em. I min comin hame fae e skweel, I'd fin a placie like at an I'd presst wi ma beet, an see e driblets o watter comin up atween e steens, an syne fin ye stoppit pressin it raise again. Aye, a thaa aifter hard frost an snaa fairly howkit e roads, an laddies' beets helpit e holes on a bit tee. An begod it wis jist e aal patch Jock took's till. E tap surface wis aa lowse, an fin I scrapit wi e tae o ma tacketie, jist a hale mush o fite beenies an black hair cam intae vyow. It wis a God's mercy naebody'd been ere afore hiz. Jock took a quick look at's, an I took a quick look at him.

'Fess yer spaad', I said, 'an a guana bag'.

I steed by e patch, haadin on tae ma byke, ready tae look's if I'd been sortin't gin onybody cam by. E road wis gey quairt, though, sae it wis aa richt.

'Flype open e bag',

I said tae Jock fin e cam back, an I up wi e spaad an skimmt aff as mony bits as I cwid, ay feedin em in as Jock held e pyock. Ere wis nae earthly doot fit we hid -a mannie's heid, fair crushed tae murlicks, an e only thing at cd a deen't wis e road roller. I begood tae jalouse fit micht a happent. I some doot it wis e Gairman lad. E'd likely cam on Willie wi e roller, an speert e wye tae the steen circle on Mains Hill, or something like at, an Willie, bein sae bashfae an maybe nae unnerstannin e queer wye o spikkin, wid a grinnt a bittie oan answert. E lad wid a likely persistet an Willie wid a geen on till e machine tae start er up an get awa. Maybe e lad wis walkin alangside shoutin up at im, tryin tae mak im unnerstan, an I've nae doot trippit an wowf wi eez heid anaith e big roller. Mercy what a thing tae happen. Ma stamach wis grippit wi e thocht, an mair sae wi gettin a glintie o fit Willie'd felt like. E'd been clean terrifeet. A lad wi a heid in a splyter an nae doot richt aff at e shooders, an Willie e caase o't, fither e likit or no.

I rakit amon e metal wi e nyeuk o e spaad tae gaither ilky bit an get it baggit. Jist as weel we hidna fun't a ear ago, bit time hid deen its usual job an aathing wis pickit clean. We trampit doon e patch as weel's we cwid. Neen o's spak.

I minet again on e black rik, an on e meltit braiss I'd haard o in Turra, an on e mark I'd seen on e roller fin Willie got sae roused wi's. Clyes an bag an aa must a been brunt in e fire box o e roller, at wid a been e caase o e ily rik. Peer Willie, what a job. It wid a teen a fyow splashes o tar tae cover e bleed tee. An syne e'd gotten e corp intill e coal bag, an cairriet it ower Jock's park. I didna think we nott tae look in e soo, ere wis nae doot fit wid be ere.

Ere wisna much spikkin atween's. We geed up tae Jock's place an I geed im a han tae harness e horse intill e cairt. I plumpit e bag intill e boddem o't an we geed roon till e aal soo, wi a fork apiece. It wis gey mucky stuff, at hey, aifter Iyin for mair'n a ear. We wis eest enyeuch wi deid beasts, bit it wisna agreeable fit we wis at eynoo. We forkit awa till we'd won weel intill e heap, e hale o't stuck egidder an comin aff in flat layeries o black stuff. Ae layer turnt, an man I harly like tae say fit wis ere, a black body wi aa e sap clean oot o't, fairly flattent, like a cat I eence saa at hid got stuck anaith e couples o an aal hoose faar e thackit reef hid faan in on't. Jock took ae look -

'Kippert', e said.

We got it on till e cairt, alang wi e aal hey an e guana bag wi e bits o heid, an up tae the quarry at e heid o e hill. It wis oot o eese, bit fowk dumpit aal rubbish in't. We howkit hyne doon amon e rubbish, cowpit wir load, an happit it weel again.

Nae lang ahin at, Jock retiret an meeved till a hoose aside Turra. E's deid noo, peer breet. An Willie wis got in a dam. E wis ay a tidy lad, an e'd faalt up eez jaicket an laid it ower e hannlebars o eez byke.

A hullock o ears on, I wis hyowin wi e souter's loon, a learnet kinna lad, a buddy ye cd spik till. Aathing cam intae ma heid, as we wirkit doon e dreels in e gushet nyeuk. Ma hair wis gettin fite be es time. I min on im lookin at's, jist as we cam doon aside e burn, fin I speert, jist on e meenit -

'Bit wid ere be a God?'

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APA Style:

Craiters: 02 - Kippert. 2021. In The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow. Retrieved January 2021, from http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=526.

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"Craiters: 02 - Kippert." The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow, 2021. Web. January 2021. http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=526.

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The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech, s.v., "Craiters: 02 - Kippert," accessed January 2021, http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=526.

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Information about Document 526

Craiters: 02 - Kippert

Text

Text audience

Adults (18+)
General public
Informed lay people
Specialists
Males
Females
Audience size 1000+

Text details

Method of composition Wordprocessed
Year of composition 1994
Word count 5255

Text medium

Book
Periodical/journal

Text publication details

Published
Publisher Tuckwell Press
Publication year 1995
Place of publication East Linton
ISBN/ISSN 1898410739
Edition First
Part of larger text
Contained in Craiters. Or Twenty Buchan Tales

Text setting

Education
Other Putting the dialect on record, Aberdeenshire

Text type

Prose: fiction
Prose: nonfiction
Short story

Author

Author details

Author id 27
Forenames Alexander
Surname Fenton
Gender Male
Decade of birth 1920
Educational attainment University
Age left school 17
Upbringing/religious beliefs Protestantism
Occupation Academic/Writer/Editor
Place of birth Shotts
Region of birth Lanark
Birthplace CSD dialect area Lnk
Country of birth Scotland
Place of residence Edinburgh
Region of residence Edinburgh
Residence CSD dialect area Edb
Father's occupation Shoemaker
Father's place of birth Aberdeen
Father's region of birth Aberdeen
Father's birthplace CSD dialect area Abd
Father's country of birth Scotland
Mother's occupation Housewife\Crofter
Mother's place of birth Keith
Mother's region of birth Banff
Mother's birthplace CSD dialect area Bnf
Mother's country of birth Scotland

Languages

Language Speak Read Write Understand Circumstances
English Yes Yes Yes Yes At work
Scots Yes Yes Yes Yes At home and wherever possible

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