AFTER I mentioned in the 10 Years Ago section of Looking Back on August 15 that the Lancashire Dialect Society had "popped its clogs", I received a note from reader Ernest Ford telling me that it is up and running again under the guidance of folk singer Derek Stanton.

It even has its own internet site www.Idsociety.fsnet.co.uk HERE and, says Mr Ford, another web site that should not be missed and which is completely Lanky is www.nyt.co.uk/Lancashire.htm HERE- "you wouldn't believe how many Lanky folk there are around the world who refuse to give up the 'road o' speykin'."

And Mr Ford has sent me this tale from his collection for his intended book Lowry Land Laffs. I am sure you will enjoy it.

"THA knows," said Mary Gee to her bingo companion, "it's abeawt time uz I won sommat at this place."

"Tha wot?" replied her friend, Alice. "It's gooin t' reawnds o' ae'lt bingo heawses in Bowton, un eawtside o' it uz tha't awlus winnin sommat or other. Owt abeawt tha naer wins owt!"

"I've naer won owt here."

"Well, it's abeawt time uz tha did," said Alice.

"Why's that?" asked Mary.

"Because tha' t' chuckin in wi me uz awlus are'nt o'?"

"Oh aye," she replied. "Neaw wots heawf o' nowt?"

"It'l nor awlus be nowt tha knows. Bubbles beawnt bust sum time," she was assured.

"I've won chickens in Howfen," Mary said.

"Oh aye. Well is tha ever wins a keaw, tha mun mek sure uz it's awe'l theer!"

"I won a pon set in Aspull," said Mary, "un it's a good job uz tha were'nt wi me to chuck in because I know uz tha cawnt cook."

"Who sez us I cawnt cook?" an angry face moved closer to her.

"Moower than one, I con tell thi!"

"Tha wot! Un who are these moower than one?" she demanded to know.

"I'm not beawnt tell thi names," said Mary, "but sum on um are in here."

"Tha wot!" Alice's face changed colours and she stood upright to gaze around the room. "Thee tell mi who they are an I'll do t' rest." She sank down again to face her friend. "I'll gi um 'I cawnt cook'."

"I'm glad uz they don't se same abeawt me, though," Mary rubbed it in.

"Just wor are they sayin behind mi back uz cawnt be said to me front?"

"They are sayin," Mary paused for thought. "They are sayin uz that t' only woman in Bowton who has a black belt fer cookin!"

"Tha wot?" said Alice. "A black belt fer cookin? Un wot does t' think us they meeun by that?"

"It's gooin reawnd," Mary held her arm for comfort, "uz tha could kill any mon wiv one o' tha chops!"

"They are havin thee on," smiled back Alice. "Cawnt see uz they are havin thee on? They know uz tha t' a bit slow un believes owt they tell thi. Come on, Mary, I thowt uz tha had moower eyle in thi lamp to faw fer that."

"Is that wot tha thinks o' me?" Mary was taken aback by her friend, Alice's, remark. "Does't really think uz I'm slow? Well, I'll be blowed. Tha knows I don't need ter t' cum here to be insulted . . . I con awlus go sumweer else!"

"Un weer wilt go?" Alice pushed her back into her chair. "Tha knows uz tha wouldn't know wot fer t' do if tha did'nt cum here. It's like a religion un tha knows it. Tha's geet bingo in thi blood!"

"Some foak se uz it's not gradely good fer thi gettin too involved in bingo," said Mary.

"I naer listen to awe'l that soart o' gossip," Alice intervened. "They se uz it's sum soart o' drug. As t' ever yerd such daft tawk?" she said, smoothing out her bingo ticket and searching desperately in her handbag for her magic marker. "Drug indeed!"

As Alice continued her search, Mary gazed through the window as a funeral cortege wound its way slowly through the street below. Alice directed her attention in its direction and noticed the interest being shown by her friend. "So this is why tha wannted ter sit near t' window?"

Mary nodded and looked transfixed to the scene below. A tear appeared at the corner of her eye. "There's a good follerin fer yon poor soul," said Alice. "He must o' bin a good mon, wot does tha say?"

"He was," Mary replied with difficulty. "He was a reet good husband to me!"