A MIRACLE O' BAIT
Noo Jesus woz larnin' a geet thrang ootbye i' th' fields and it woz gerrin' on tiv atween the twee leets, when his marras said, "Maistor, thir folk are clammin', bud thor's nowt fer them heor, i' th' backa-beyont. They'd berror be gannin hyem an' feed thorsells."
"Na," sed Jesus, "Aa's warnt we can finnd them summat worsells."
"Are we ti gan an buy them some scran then?"
"Na," sed Jesus, "Gan lait what we hev amang wor a'riddy."
Sae they went an' axt aroond an', exackly, they fand twee stotties an' five puddocks (for some fish are sae smaaly they've ti be set back in the wattor for pure shem).
Then Jesus teuk the twee stotties an' the five puddocks, gov thanks, an' dadded them into weany tits fer handin' roond.
An, heck, thor woz eneuf ti feed five thoosand o' folk, an' forbye twelve creels o' brokken ket wor left ower!
A TYEL O' A COBLE
Eftor a lang day o' larnin' Jesus gar'd his crew gan on aheed, in thor coble ower th' wattor.
Hissell aal alane, he went off an' clambered up onti th' fells ti pray.
Meanwhile, his marras fand they wor hevvin' some tew-on, fendin' as best they cud, ti raa again th' wind. They sair missed th' maistor.
Nigh midneet, Jesus catched up wi' them, waakin' on th' sea, and was ettlin' ti pass an' aal, for that he jaloused they wor a caffy-hearted crew, and he wad play them a sconce.
Sure enough, they gliffed him an' strite thot it woz a bogle, and that set them skrikin' wi' freet.
Sae he had nae choice but te torn n comfort them, like ye wad bubbly bairnies: "Me it is - divvent fash yersells!"
An' he clamb aboard the coble wi' them, an' the wind deed doon strite off.