Nyns eus goon heb lagas, na ke heb scovarn

There is no down without an eye, nor hedge without an ear

CORNISH CONVERSATION CLASS -- LESSON THREE

This is the third in our occasional series of Cornish Conversation classes for non-Cornish folk, or Emmets. Denzil and Madron bump into one another in Penzance on a blustery day.  Madron is walking down Causewayhead and Denzil is making his way up it, when they espy one another.  The following conversation ensues, which we report in both Cornish and English.

Madron: Yeow!   Why, hello!

Denzil: Yeow, boy!  Hello, there!

Madron: Gwen up Gwennap aree? Will you be going to Gwennap pit?

Denzil: Naw, maither ast fer me t' fix 'er leakin' launders. I w'ain't be there. 'Eowuh?  I am afraid not. My mother has asked me to repair her leaking guttering. I cannot attend. Why do you ask?

Madron: Tommy Wakfer from ovver Snives iz upair aneez dlivrin'iz messij in song 'gen.  Thomas Wakfer from St Ives is going to be there and will be delivering his characteristic message in song.

Denzil: Praise be! Thassawayobm! Sum luvvly voice onuneeaz!   Oh bravo!  That's the way to do it. He has such a wonderful voice.     


Madron: Missenall now you will, boy.  I am afraid that you are going to miss it all now, my dear chap. 

Denzil: Es, kent do nawthin bowtit. Pitteezi duh dearly like a 'ymn!    Yes, I cannot do a thing. It's a shame as I so enjoy hymns.

Madron: Oweegettinon wit that 'ere thermal door wotyuad fer Christmas?  How are you getting along with that Thermidor thing you got for Christmas?

Denzil: Idno bleddy thermal door! Thermal doors is wat they duh do t'lobsters. I got wunna theezere 'ummy doors. 'Ummy doors is fer cigars. Gotta tellee boy I arn dappy widden. Sposed t' be simple. Put waterinun - I 'aff filledun wi water.  Nex' chuck the ceegars inun.    I dun that and theerall floatin roun wetunssoggy - ruined they are. Ine gun ask fer me money backonun.
It is not a thermidor. That is a culinary term referring to a method of preparing lobsters. What I have is a humidor. Humidors are used to store cigars. I must confess I am not happy with the product. It is supposed to be simple. One adds distilled water. I half-filled it. Next one places one's cigars inside. This I did, only to see that they were floating around in the water becoming wet and soggy. They are completely ruined. I am going to have to ask for my money back.

Madron: Es, you mek sure you duh do that boy. You should 'a' free ceegars too t' make up fer all they you lost in that bleddy 'ummy door.  Make sure that you do so. You should also request additional cigars to replace those you lost in that faulty humidor.

Denzil: Es, I'll gibbonell I will. Goinome neow 'spoze, aree?  Yes, I shall give them a piece of my mind. I suppose that you are off home now.

Madron: Naw.  Gottadobitta exercise t' keep ' tickerelthy. Goin down Prom ferabit walk.  No, I must take some exercise for the sake of my heart. I am going down to the Promenande to take a stroll.

Denzil:  You are, aree? Blawin'a gale deown there ee is. You mine you doan get blawed ovver!  I better getonere. Ernie Pascoe's pickin' me up in 'is sidecar up top to gimme lift 'ome. See ee gen boy!         Are you indeed? The wind is blowing strongly there and you must be careful that it doesn't carry you away!  I must make a move. Ernest Pascoe is collecting me at the top of the road. He is giving me a lift home in the sidecar of his motorcycle. Toodle-oo!

Madron: Es, see ee drekkly!  Yes, I  will see you at some unspecified time in the future.

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