(Untitled)

[dickon]

*smiles broadly*

I'm Dickon, come from Missel Moor, by the manor. I've a typist, and she says that tha' art good company... or can be *laughs*.

The moor's my home, but my, eh, typist says to tell I'm from The Secret Garden, written by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Comments

[capital_r]

*bows* Bienvenue, M. Dickon. You've reduced my typist to a huge grin, I'll have you know. And..*squints* I have problems enough with English as it is, now there's different dialects?! *sighs* Oh well.

Typist: ZOMG DICKON I LOVE YOU. *flails*

[dickon]

Hallo! *shifts* Tha' can call me just plain Dickon, if tha' wants. I've never met them as'll call me "monsewyour" before. Not many French up on th' moors.

An' I'll try to keep the Yorkshire plain for thee *grin*.

Typist: Heh. I was surprised he wasn't gone already.

[sweariwontdie]

*re-reads your response to Grantaire*

You may need to keep it simple for many of us. There are many natural born French here. And though I speak English rather well since my sister is married to an English man, some of your words baffle me too.

*bows* Welcome, young Dickon. I hope you like it here and find many friends, new and old.

[dickon]

*nods, slightly disconcerted at being bowed to twice now* I understand. I never slip so broad if I can help it, not out from home. I can't speak like you, sir, not being proper schooled, but I can try.

*tilts his head* It's an interesting place, this. Good to meet you, sir.

[glassinhand]

Bonjour, M. Dickon. *squeaks* Your dialect is a little confusing, but I think that I understand it for the most part. *waves*

[dickon]

*smiles gently*

Hello, miss. It's good to meet you.

[goldenlapwing]

Hallo, Mr. Dickon! I'm Rina. *smiles* I can understand you pretty well, I think. ...unless you're really saying something completely different from what I'm hearing, which I guess is possible.

*listens, enchanted, to his piping*

[dickon]

*pauses for a moment, looks at Rina with a smile* It's just Dickon, miss. An' good to meet thee. Tha'rt named for a bird, I see.

[goldenlapwing]

Oh...yes, my journal name. Lapwing - it was my...alias, nickname, I guess, during the - well. It's a sort of nickname.

[dickon]

*doesn't ask about the sentence change*

An' it's a pretty one, miss.

[miss_contrary]

I've heard about you from Martha. *blushes* You're her younger brother who rides out on the moor and is friends with the animals.

[dickon]

I know who tha'rt, of course *wide, welcoming smile*. Martha told me about you, Miss Mary.

There are worse folks to be friends with than the animals, tha' knows. *laughs* I'm out so often I could be one of them.

Typist: Forgive me if you got the other comment. Had quite forgotten I'd logged out.

[miss_contrary]

Did she? I can't see why. There surely isn't much to tell about me. I think it is wonderful that you are friends with so many creatures, actually. I'm trying to make friends with a Robin in the garden...

[dickon]

She likes you, Miss Mary. An' if th' robin has called to thee already, be sure that he likes thee too. Listen to th' bird, hear what he's saying.

*grin* They can tell a person better than any human can, miss. An' if the robin and Martha like you, that's good enough for me.