Listen oop.
You may call us ducks, and posh folk and southerners say it like 'dacks', but we're Yorkshire dooks. (It's not so much an 'oo' sound as somewhere between 'oo' and 'u'. You 'ave to 'ear it.) Trouble is, ever since missus at T' 'ouse of Stories got all particular about what to feed us dooks, the foowd's not so goowd as it were. We were 'appy with t'bread.
So lately us 'ave been 'anging around t'bridges and we eat what we're given. Still, we might give T 'ouse of Stories another visit. See what we get. Much the Gnome might be up for a chat, too. 'E's a grand chap, is Much. And seeing missus tramp down t'garden in t'rain in 'er coat and wellies always gives us something to laugh at.
NB from Margi - if you didn't understand a word of what those ducks were saying, never mind. Neither did I.
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