'Ow Yo-arkshire Wer' Made

It so ‘appened ‘at one day God wer twiddlin’ ‘is fingers an’ gettin’ reight crotchety coz ‘e ‘ad nowt t’ laike wi. In fact ‘e got so pigged off ‘e went missin’ f’ six days. T’ Archangel Gabriel started frettin’ ‘an sent aat a search party. On t’ seventh day, ‘e fownd ‘im restin’ on a star.

"Ey up”, said Gabriel, “ast tha wet tha bed or wot??”

“Nay lad”, said God, “ah’ve bin busy makin’ stuff!”

“Oh eye” said t’Archangel, “Wot’s tha bin messin’ wi’ nah like?"

"Ah've created t’ planet Earth”, ‘e said. ‘tis grand. “A place o’ opposites ‘an great balance."

"Balance?" says Gabriel.

God explained. “Look theyer. Ah’ve called tha’ bit ‘America’. T’ top bit ‘ll be reight wealthy - big ‘ouses, grand motors ‘an fat bellies – an’ t’ bottom ‘arf ‘ll be reight pooar, nowt but poverty ‘an ‘ardship.

God talked o’ aal t’ different countries. “Ova theyer ah’ve placed a continent o’ white fowks, an’ ova theyer a continent o’ black uns. Tha’ on’ ‘ll be roastin’ ‘ot, an’ tha’ on’ ‘ll be frozzen aal covered wi’ ice.”

Gabriel, ‘e wor fair gobsmacked wi aal t’ effort God an’ put in an pointed ter a green bit o’ England an’ says: Wot’s theyer?”

“Ah,” says god. Tha’ be Yo-arkshire, t’ most glorious place on Earth. Tis full o’ beautiful lakes, streams, rivers an’ ‘ills, stonkin’ music, grand architecture, an’ sporting giants. T’ fowks fra Yo-arkshire ‘ll be modest, intelligent an’ witty. Allus sociable, ‘ard workin’ an’ ‘igh achievers. Known throughout t’ world as diplomats an’ peace makers.”

Gabriel ‘e gasped in admiration, thought f’ a mo’ an says, “But wot abaat balance, God? Where’s t’ balance.”

“Ah”, says God, nodding sagely, “Ah mun tell thee abaat Lancashire......”