A brief encounter with Jacko

I HAD a job late in the autumn repairing a section of wall adjoining the local grouse moor which encompassed a ‘cripple hole’ (or ‘cripple oil’) as they are colloquially known.

These are openings in dry stone walls about eighteen inches wide and two feet high, and when opened, they allow the free passage of sheep between pastures while containing any grazing cattle and are commonly seen in moorland boundary walls.

I suppose the nomenclature of this particular example of dry stone furniture may be pushing the limits in the circles of the politically correct and may deserve a half hour debate on Question Time one night. However, I am sure the original builder who constructed this example referred to it as such and I see no reason to change now.

I was getting along well and was ready for my sandwiches when I noticed Jacko, the gamekeeper, approaching with his cohort of spaniels, labradors and Harry, his border Lakeland terrier.

Dressed in his corduroy plus fours and deer stalker, and distinctive gait, he is easily recognisable from afar. Jacko originates from Lancashire (well someone has to live there!) and came over to the bright side about 35 years ago. Despite his time in Yorkshire, Jacko retains his broad Lancashire dialect much to the delight of the locals and I admit to having a schoolboy giggle to myself when he starts off with his “Grand day today Bill, is it not?”

As he draws closer I hear the familiar “Ey up Bill lad! Are you repairing that ‘crickle ’ole?” There he goes again! “Do you know I come past last week an’ thur wure fowerty-fower o’ Walt’s yowes trespassin’ in that pasture.” Hardly surprising I think to myself. Sheep are not overly blessed with intelligence but they can tell the difference between sweet pasture and tough old heather.

Jacko is out with his dogs picking up any grouse that may have been left by the shooting party on the previous day and he laid a brace on the wall. “Here y’are, Bill. These can go in th’freezer – they’ll mek a reet classy ’otpot some time. Are you ’aving your bait now? Ah cud eight a cow tween a couple o’ bread wagons but ah’ve ownley got a couple of ’am and tommy tatty butties. D’ya want some coffee?”

As he slurps his sugary mixture and rolls himself a cigarette I ask him how the shoot had gone the day before. “Well, not too bad considering all the watha the poor lickle beggars have had to put up wi’. I think we’d ’ad bin better off wi’ ducks this year! Fower on us stayed behind after t’guns had gone ’ome and we had a few bockles an’ then sum o’ that ’ighland firewatha. I don’t remember much more……eeeeh! I wure bobbins last neet!”

Firewatha? For a moment I wonder if this was a relative of the renowned native American before I realised he meant whisky.

A few minutes later and Jacko labours to his feet. “Eeeeh! It’s a struddle gettin’ up Bill. ‘Ast tha troughed up?”

I grasp the chance of an extra pair of hands and enlist him to help me with some through stones. We do the old ‘one, two, three’ and hoist the stones on to the wall and Jacko picks up his bag and summons his tribe of dogs.

“Til be freezin’ afore long Bill. Ya’ll ’av to mind ’ow ya go ont th’arse!’ Luckily, everyone in the locality was well aware of Jacko’s diction and I knew he was warning me of the dangers of icy roads.

I always enjoy encounters with Jacko and they make me realise that probably within the next generation or so we will see a decline in dialect as the accents of today are slowly homogenised by television, radio and other digital media into some form of standardised grey communication.

Why he is so full of beans

Jacko’s coffee is legendary in the locality.

Each flask contains a pint of ‘watha freshly boiled in’t keckle’, ‘farve ‘eaped spoons’ of coffee and a half a dozen sugars. No wonder he is always hyper! Before relocating to Yorkshire he used to service and restock vending machines in Rochdale, Oldham and Manchester.

A far distant way of life from his present rural employment. The firm he worked for had gone belly up in the seventies.

It is easy to see why this happened when Jacko was deciding on the consistency of the product in the plastic cup!