Monday 3 October 2011

T' Pied Piper O' Northallerton

Long time ago nah...

...on t’ banks o’ river Ure in North Yorkshire,  lay a gradely little market taahn, name o’ Northallerton. Most o’ t’ folks theyer, wer’ ‘onest, ‘ard workin’, shoulder to t’ wheel types, livin’ contentedly off  t’ land ooer  workin’ in t’ taahn. As t’ yeears went by, mony ‘ouses an’ businesses wer’ built an’ t’ taahn prospered growin’ rich an’ grand. In fact a tad too grand f' theyer own good like, as sum folks grew conceited an’ pompous as they bellies got fatter!

Theyen one day, summat  aat o’ t’ ordinary ‘appened  to disturb t’ peace.

Nah I mun tell thee, that Northallerton ‘ad allus ‘ad rats, an’ a lot too. But ah dunt mean  t’ four legged kind. Nay not them! Summat a lot worse! Ah’m talkin’ abaat  t’ uman variety, t' very worst kind – chuffin’ bankers! Just t’ thowat o’ em meks me shudder!

Onny ow,  aal at once,  t’ bankers began to multiply – an’ soon ther’ wor banks aal ova taahn!! Everywhere tha looked, wor a mass o’ dark suited, faceless, pitiless  bankers, wonderin’ t’ streets at will, wi a subway buttie in one ‘and an’ an iPhone in t’ other. Fust, they attacked aal t’ businesses, doublin’ loan repayments an’ hikin’ lease costs.  Then, they refused to gi’ aat mortgages an’ foreclosed early on aal an’ sundry. Next they ring-fenced pensions an’ savin’s accaants – an’ gnawed away interest rates whilst chargin’ millions f’ ovadrafts ‘ow ever short lived ooer small. In fact, t’ little bastards ate away at everythin’ they cud get their theivin’ paws on, leavin’ t’ pooar 'onest 'ard workin' folk wi nowt left ovva but t’ clothes on their backs.

T’ terrified citizens flocked t’ caancil chambers at Silver Cross - an’ pleaded wi’ t’ taan caancilors t’ free ‘em fra this ‘ere dark evil plague. So affeared fra ‘is job like, t’ Mayor o’ Northallerton invited aal t’  caancilors an’ t’ legal professions  t’ cum to a grand meetin’ at t’ Lord Mayors Chambers an’ present sum stonkin’ ideas as t’ ow to deal wi’ t’ problem.

But on t’ mornin’ in question, t’ room wor as silent as two kids caught 'avin’ a fumble. Despite aal  t’  brass plaques, bar qualifications an’ legal secretaries present, none o’ t’ bigwigs cud cum  up wi a legal precedent t’ keep aal t’ banks in check!

Appen, f’ abaat 15 minutes, t’ mayor ‘ad bin staring idly into ‘is Starbucks’ Mega-Grandissimo-Mocha-Chocca-Rama-Lama-Ding-Dong-Decaf-Capuccino, contemplating in ‘is head like,  if t’ lawyers wuz only laiking at bein’ dumb whilst quietly extending a professional courtesy to t’ banks - when aal o' a sudden like, ther’ wor a laad  knock at t’ dooar. "Ee, oo cud tha’ be?", t’ city fatthers wondered uneasily, mindful o’ t’ angry crowds jus’ aatside. But when t’ dooar wer gingerly oppened, ter their surprise, theyer stood a reight scrawny little bugger, dressed in brightly coloured garb wi a peacock feather in 'is ‘at . An' in 'is 'and, wer a long instrument monny folks wud o' bin praad ter display.

“Tha dunt kno’ me”, ‘e says, marchin’ in. “But ah’m t’ famous Pied Piper. A've freed other taans o’ beetles an’ bats – an’ f’ a Grand, appen ah'll rid thee o’ yorn rats"  (Ee wud o’ said bankers – but it didn’t rhyme wi bats!)

"Wot, THEE Pied Piper?” replied t’ gobsmacked Mayor. “Tha’s allus seemed a tad taller in t’ story books like?”

“Ay, reckon me stature ‘as growed wi me deeds”, says t’ Pied Piper. “Me fingers can slide up ‘ an daan this ‘ere flu-it like a bride on a groom – an’ nowt nor no-one can resist followin’ it’s sweet saand!”

“So  tha’ll get rid o’ all them w....   w...  bankers, f’ a thousand quid!" continued t’ Mayor, incredulously. "Appen tha cud charge fifty thousand if tha succeeds!"

“Tis a deal then!” said, t’ Pied Piper. An wi that, t’ funny little stranger hurried away, sayin’ as ‘e left: "Tis late nah, but by dawn tomorrow, ther’ won't be a single banker left in Northallerton!"
An’ so it came to be. When t’ sun wuz still below t’ horizon, t ‘sound o’ a pipe cum waftin’ thru t’ streets o’ Northallerton. An’ as t’ Pied Piper slowly med ‘is way thru t’ houses, behind him flocked t’ bankers. Out they scampered fra doars, windows an’ gutters. It wer a spectacular sight to see like, aal them creatures o’ misery followin’ wayer so ever ee played. 'e marched ‘em daan to t’ river Ure an’ straight into t’ watter, wayer everyone o’ em wer draahned an’ swept away by t’ current. By t’ time t’ sun wuz high in t’ sky, ther’ weren’t even a single banker left in t’ taahn.

(An t’ four legged rats an gone in to hiding too!)

Naturally, t’ folks o’ Northallerton wer overjoyed. “A chuffin’ miracle they aal cried.” Ther’ wus even greater delight daan at t’ taan hall, until t’ Piper tried to claim ‘is payment.

"Fifty thousand quid?" exclaimed t’ Mayor. "Never!"

“That’s wot thee said ah cud ‘ve if ah wor successful!”, reminded t’ Piper.

“A throw away comment said in jest” butted-in a snotty lookin’ bloke in a white wig – oo saanded like ee’d swallowed a plumb. “Not worth the paper it’s not printed on. No contract – no deal – no obligation - no debt.”

Well, t’ Piper wor fair 'eart-sluffened 'at bein' didled aat o’ ‘is ‘ard earned brass, but ‘e wor a pragmatist nonetheless. "Aal-reight” ‘e says bitin’ ‘is lip, “Ah’ll tek t’ Grand ah originally quoted thee. Can’t be fairer ‘an that!” But t’ Mayor broke in, "T bankers are all deed nah an’ appen they can nivver cum back. So be grateful f’ fifty quid an’ be off wi thee, or tha'll not get even that!"

Well at this, t’ Piper got abaat as ‘oppin mad as a tin o’ frogs left in t’ sun. So wi’ ‘is eyes flashing rage like traffic lights on steroids, ‘e pointed a threatening finger at t’ Mayor an’ addressed t’ rest o’ t’ room: "N'body meks a fool o' t' Pied Piper! Ah promise thee aal nah”, ‘e says, “that tha'll bitterly regret ivver breaking tha promise!” And wi that ‘e stormed aat. An’ as t’ door slammed in it’s frame, a collective shiver o’ fear ran thru t’ gathered caancilors an’ t’ legal professions.  But t’ Mayor jus' sat back in 'is seat an thowatt to issen, "Ah've jus’ saved fifty grand! Appen tis time to replace t’ Mayor’s Limo!"

That night, freed fra t’ nightmare o’ bankers an’ never endin’ debts, t’ ordinary folk o’ Northallerton slept mooar saandly than ivver. An’ when t’ strange an compellin’ saand o’ piping wafted thru t’ streets at dawn, only t’ Mayor, t’ caancilors an’ t’ legal professions ‘eard it.

Drawn as if by magic, they hurried aat o’ their homes an’ thronged at t’ Piper’s heels to t’ saand o’ ‘is strange melody. Soon ther’ wer a long train o’ hypnotised professionals weaving an’ bobbing along be’ind ‘im. T’ long procession soon left t’ taahn an’ made its way to t’ foot o’ t’ Hamble Hills near a village called Kilburn, wayer a great white, oss ‘ad been carved aat o’ t’ hill. When t’ Piper came to a halt, 'e played ‘is pipe even laader still, an’ a great ‘ole creaked oppen in t’ osses ass. Beyond lay a deep dark cave. In trooped t’ Mayor, t’ caancilors an’ t’ legal professions, an’ when at last they’d aal gone into t’ darkness, t’ hole shut tight agayen – wi nivver a sign ’at it’d ivver existed.

Only one little solicitor’s apprentice escaped this fate coz ‘e wor lame an’ couldn’t keep up. ‘e often later swore on ‘is Bible that ‘e’d witnessed t’ whole event – though few people ivver believed ‘im. Fact is t’ taahns folk wer jus’ glad to ‘ave a chance at startin’ over, like.

Many years wer’ to pass afore t’ voices o’ bankers an’ t’ legal trades wer’ to be ‘eard in Northallerton agayen. Still to this day t’ memory o’ t’ harsh lesson learned lays dormant in everyone's ‘eart – passed on only in whispered bedtime stories daan t’ generations.

Nah ‘tis said that ivvery year a few soft southern wussies poke araand t’ white ‘osses arse in search o’ it’s hole an’ t’ lost professionals - but t’ hill has never given up its secrets. Though daan at t’ Forrester’s Arms in Kilburn, t’ locals ’ll tell thee that on a good day tha can see t’ ‘oss smile.

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