THE ONE MILE RACE-JULY 1868

TEUN-" The Pawnshop Bieeei«;"

WOR Jack an Tom, alang wi' me,

Join'd i' the hurry skurry

That spred alang Newcassel Kee,

When foaks wi' frantic flurry

Rush'd here an' there te get a place

That they might see the greet boat race;

Alang the Close they madly push'd,

Byeth foaks an' people sair wes crush'd,

An' poor sowl's feet that sported CORN,

Wes nice an' clean tho ruffiy shorn,

When they went te see the race, lads.

On the river-a' sorts 0' craft,

Frae whurry te the steamer,

Wes crooded weel byeth fore and aft,

Mind, mark ye, aw's ne dreamer,

The banks and bridges-sic a seer,

For lads wes scramlin left and reet,

An' lasses wi' thor bonny goons,

An' greet big hats wi' little croons,

Join'd i' mony a queer like crew,

That they might get abetter view,

An' see the greet boat race, lads.

Thor i' thor boats! a keelman cries

Aw'Il back Bob for a ginney !

Which Bob? says aw, when he replies

The Bob that wins, maw hinney!

Doon at the Bridge, aye, sure eneuf,

Byeth men wes there, stript te the buff,

Then silence reigned as still as deeth,

Foaks agitated, held thor breeth,

Till all at once the stillness broke,

For byeth the men had myed a stroke,

They had started for the race, lads.

Thor off! thor off! wes then the shoot,

Wi' lots 0' deefnin cheerin,

l' steamboats, keels, and banks aboot,

Aw nearly lost me heerin;

Gan on, Bob Cooper-show the way!

Huts! Chambers wins! aw'll bet, the day!

Amid a world 0' voices roar,

They calm, but quickly plied the oar,

An' pull'd away wi' reet gud will,

A fine display 0' strength an' skill

Wes Chambers' an' Cooper's race, lads.

Bob Cooper's strokes wes short, but quick,

Se bonny, clean, an' strengthy,

Whilst Chambers pulls, his man te lick,

Wi' strokes byeth strang an' lengthy;

Doon te thor knees byeth boo thor heed,

An' struggle hard te get the lead;

Then foaks amazed, shut up thor gobs,

Ye hear ne shoots frae Sangate nobs;

The Champion's frinds appear dismay'd,

On ivry brow thor's cast a shade,

For Cooper leads the race, lads.

The Reed-yuff man at Skinners' Burn

Kept on his lead increasin,

Gan on, Bob Chambers! tyek yor turn,

An' gie yor man a fleecin !

The Champion myed a splendid spurt,

It seem'd te myek his frinds divert

Frae dowly thowts-for Harry's crew

Roard oot-maw lad, ye hev him noo!

But sad mistake-it seun wes seen

That game Bob Cooper wasn't GREEN,

For still he leads the race, lads.

Then Cooper vic'try seem'd te grab,

Wi' Chambers at his quarter,

'Twes said that Cooper copt a crab,

The Champion copt a tartar;

The hero ov a hundrid spins

Wes doom'd te loss-for Cooper wins,

An' past the post a length a-heed

He flew wi' undiminish'd speed;

Then WISE FOAKS said, wi' mockin grin,

Aw always tell'd ye whee wad win,

Afore they pull'd the race, lads.

Lang may Tyneside produce sic men,

Te try the Cocknies' paces,

But if they intend te pull athyem,

Lang may we see sic races;

Tho cheers for Cooper ye may raise,

Bob Chambers still desarves greet praise,

For when two men like these contest

Wi' honest pride, an' de thor best,

Aw's sorry that one shud give in,

Aw only wish that byeth cud win,

THE GREET BOAT RACE

For the Championshionship 0' the Tyne an' £400, Sept. 5 and 6, 1864.

TRUN- "The Hairr," or" Hop Light Loo."

THE aud bridge groan'd as tho it thowt

Its end wes noo drawn near;

The level creakt and squeakt beneath

The weight it had te beer;

The steamers rowld frae side te side,

An' ivry boat wes full,

When Chambers, ov aquatic fame,

An' Cooper had te pull.

Korus

Pull, lads, pull! like leetnin wi' the tide!

Pull, lads, pull! the victry te decide!

Pull, lads, pull !-Iet pluck an' skill combine

Te show the world thor's nyen can touch

The Champion 0' the Tyne!

Ne fear 0' cheat or false defeat

Wes iv a breest that day,

For spite wad myek them pull for fairs

An' anxshus for the fray;

The river, like a heavy sea,

Myed ivry beetin heart

Quake when they saw sic fearless men

Pull. near the bridge te start.

Thor off! gud grashus what a shoot

Wes sent frae shore te shore,

The time-gun i' the Cassel Garth

Cud nivor cawse sic stir,

For like two swift locomotives

Byeth try te gain the lead,

Wi' quickind spurt, 'mid roarin cheers

Bob Chambers gans a-heed.

The champion wi' masheen-like stroke

Dash'd bravely throo the spray,

While Cooper, game as man cud be,

Tried hard te win the day,

When Chambers, throo the warst 0' luck,

Ran foul agyen two keels,

But full 0' steam-he's affagyen,

An' close at Cooper's heels.

Thor level noo,-but throo the storm

Grim danger claim'd the race,

 For efter byeth the men had fould

A fearful scene teuk place,

Bob Chambers' boat wes sinkin fast,

The race that day wes deun,

Then foaks begun wi' clattrin tung

To argie byeth had wun.

The next day wi' the tide still ruff,

They had thor second spin,

Frae start te finish Chambers led,

The better man te win,

An' proov'd thor's not a man alive,

That can wi' him contend;

But speak weel 0' the lossin man,

May gud luck byeth attend.

The race that had for weeks an' munths

Excited mony a breest

Wes past-an' ivrybody's mind

Seem'd frev a load releest;

Ne men like these had ivor pull'd,

Let Tyneside glory shine,

An' lang may champions

0' the world Spring frae the coally Tyne.

Wor Geordey says he's glad he wes on the bridge at the race, for thor wes

a deed heet at the start, an' he dissent think they war ivor see close eftor't.

What a cawshun Geordey is, aw say.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

CHAMBERS AND COOPER

A DUBBIL ACROSTIC-REED THE LETTORS DOONWORDS.

C HAMPlONS 0' the world, why shud ye pull ?

 C an ye not rest on laurels, nobly gain'd ?

H appy wivan undefeated scull,

 O rdaind te rule the world, wi'nyem unstaind:

A re ye not content wi' contests wun?

 Opposed te men 0' power an' wundrus skill,

Maw canny hinnies, ye've had yor run,

 P ride willbe wilful,so ye've had yor will,

But, faith, aw'd seuner see yor hardy hands

 Entwined wi' kindly grasp-a combinashun

E nuif te strike terror throughoot a' lands,

 R eet glad ye'd be, tiv Cocknies' consternashun,

Rich iv each uthers help-each heart expands,

Sons 0' the Tyne, joind wi' true frindship's bands!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

TEMPERANCE SONGS,

READINGS,

AND RECITATIONS.

TEMPERANCE

KILL'D THROO A FALL DOONSTAIRS.

READING OR RECITATION.

“WHAT a nice young chep Jack Harley is ! " the neybors a' wad say,

As, clean an' neat, he left the hoose te gan te wark each day;

An' a cheerful smile lit up his fyece whenivor he luckt back,

An' nodded tiv his canny wife an' little bairn, young Jack.

An' the little fellow nodded tee, an' shooted-" Da, ta! ta!"

It myed Jack turn an' smile agyen at this sweet scene he saw.

An' he often thowt an' said he was the happiest 0' men,

An' happier felt, when wark wes deun, te be at hyem agyen.

Ivrything went on first-rate, an' Jack had little care,

Except attendin te the wants not often wanted there;

For Bessy wes a careful wife, an' easy myed ends meet:

In fact, ye cuddentfind a happier couple i' the street.

But Time browt changes te the hoose that there shud nivvor been,

An' cast a clood that nivvor yit wes lifted frae the scene:

For Jack got mates-an idle lot-that wassent fit for him,

An' filled his once bright, happy cup wi' mis'ry te the brim.

Then Jack's free disposition always myed him easy prey

Te fellows wi' the gift 0' tung, that often hes the way

Te myek ye think they like ye weel-that they're yor truest frinds ;

Weel up iv a' kinds 0' deceit, te sarve thor selfish ends,

So Jack wes seun perswayded te join them iv a spree.

Next mornin' when he wakened up, as bad as he cud be,

They teuk him te the public-hoose where they had been before,

An' when they fund thor money gyen they started" tick" te score.

Thor wark neglected, there they sat, an' kept it up for days,

Wi' the drink they raised wi' spungin an' a' such dirty ways,

Till Jack wes just as bad as them, an' fairly lost te shem,

Except when, wiva moment's pain, his mind wad wander hyern.

An' when he tried te gan away,his tempters kept him back

Frae the canny wife se true te him an' canny little Jack.

So days went on like this till Jack nowt but a drunkard turn'd:

He hated wark as he luved drink-his throat for iver burn'd

For drink-s-ay, drink, that fearful curse, had fallen upon him,

An' filled his once bright, happy cup wi' mis'ry te the brim.

One neet, his wife went on her knees, an' prayed that he wad stop,

Ay, if he'd only stop at hyem, she'd fetch him in a drop.

"If he wad only stop at hyem," she uttered wiv a sigh, "

She'd try te myek him happy, as she'd deun i' days gyen by; .

She'd cool his broo wi' wetted cloths, an' rest wad bring him roond;

A few days wad myek him better !"-an' her voice had that sweet soond,

That Jack once halted at the door, an' said-" Lass, nivvor fear !

Aw'llmyek this spree me varry last; an' when aw'm off the beer,

Aw'll gan te wark : aw'll get a job at owt if war trade's slack.

Yor seedy noo-ye want sum claes, an' so dis little Jack! "

He kissed her as he left the hoose; she smiled an' said, "Cum seun”!

She knew hoo happy they cud be if once his spree was deun.

That neet she waited lang, as she had often deun before,

An' listened te the footsteps that kept passin' bythe door;

An' little Jack laffed iv his dreams, as if he had ne care;

An' Bessy turned quite sleepy-when a footstep on the stair

Myed her start up te showa leet. She heard him stagger noo

A heavy fall doonstairs-an' then, a groan that went clean throo

The heart 0' that poor list'ner ;-then a hurried rush 0' feet

Frae the neybors, as they flew te see the dreadful wark that neet.

Poor Bessy screamed, when Jack she saw, wi' blud upon his cheek.

"Maw canny man, where are ye hurt?" but Jack, he cuddent speak.

He fixed his eyes upon his wife in anguish and remorse,

For drink had browt ne life te him, but untimely deeth -its curse!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

WHICH DE YE CALL MEAN ?

A TEETOTALER'S DEFENCE.

RECITATION

YOR prejudiced agyen the men

That winnet drink wi' ye ;

Ye call teetotal members mean

Ye've said the syem te me!

Can ye expect that they shud stand

A glass 0' beer for ye,

The varry thing that they detest?

No, no, that waddent de !

An' if they dinnet drink thor-sels,

They heh ne call te pay

For drink for ye, or ony one,

That's meant te gan that way.

Ye heh ne reet te call them mean,

An' noo aw'll tell ye hoo,

For 'twixt ye an' teetotal men,

Yor meanest 0' the two I

Is't. mean that they shud study hyem,

Its cumforts an' its peace ;

An' try te myek thor happiness

Frae day te day increase?

The time that drunkords fuddle on,

Wi' nowt fit te be seen;

Where is thor cumfort i' the hoose ?

Noo which de ye call mean?

The drunkord hes ne care for hyem,

He's selfish te the last;

As lang as he gets plenty beer,

His wife an' bairns may fast;

He's bloated out wi' drink se full,

 At hyem thor starved an' lean;

He nivvor cares for hyem at a',

Noo which de ye call mean?

A sober man's his bairns' best frind;

Wiv all a fethur's pride,

He thinks ne palace like his awn,

His cosey fireside;

His wife an' fam'ly tyek a pride,

In keepin a' things clean;

Thor's plenty there-ne signs 0' want,

Noo which de ye call mean?

Is't him that's stiddy, kind an' true

Tiv a' that's i' the hoose ?

Or him that spunges, ticks, and sprees,

For nowt ov ony use?

Aw've shown ye what aw knaw's quite true,

Ye hey yor choice between,

Then speak the truth, ye’ve heerd us throo,

Noo which de ye call mean?

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

TOM BROON. READING OR RECITATION

"WHAT'S the next case?" said the magistrate; but he seemed te knaw, aw think,

It wad be like a' the uthers, throo the drink--the weary drink:

An' the disapated pris'nor luckt aroond an' hung hisheed,

An' he tried te shun the glances frae the curious eyes he see'd.

For 'twas Tom Breon's first appearance In this low, degradin scene,

An' he hoped an' wished 'twad be the last, him an' the grave between:

For not once iv a' his life-time had it ivor been his fate,

Before this morn, te stand afore the grim-like magistrate.

An' his blood-shot eyes they glistened when he thowt aboot his hyem,

An' he wundor'd hoo his wife an' bairns wad ivor bear the shem

That he'd browt se heavy on them, an' his heart beat quick an' fast,

As he murmured tiv he'sel, nigh chokin, "This shall be the last,

Ay, the last time that they'll witness such a scene 0' maw disgrace;

Ay, the last time that aw'Il hing me heed i' such a hated place!"

The magistrate spoke kindly, for he saw repentance there,

Then dismissed him wiv a cawshun, but he tell'd him te beware!

An' he gov him that bit gud advice te let the drink alyen,

An' he teIl'd him that he nivvor wished te see him there agyen.

Tom thenkt him in a manner that he cuddent then resist,

An' swore ne mair they'd see his nyem upon the drunkard's list;

An' his heart lowpt wiv a joy that they cuddent help but see,

For he felt, but in two different ways, that he once mair wes free

For in that awful moment, when he first appeared in court,

Te be the haze-gaze 0' the crood, his pride wes sairly hurt;

He had only then considered what had really browt him there,

What had been the cawse ova' his shem-the cawse ov his dispair.

In that first sober moment that he'd felt for mony days,

He knew thor wes but one te blame for his bad, feulish ways.

An' whe wes that one but he'sel he fund he cuddent say,

An' he swore te be teetotal frae that day-that varry day.

An' the heart wes noo uplifted that before had been cast doon,

An' he blist his resolution as he hurried throo the toon.

The drink his shopmates offered noo he firmly cast aside,

An' tiv a' thor greet temptayshuns he most steadily replied,

"Not a drop, not one! Aw tell ye, not a single drop aw'll tyek,

For if aw've been asleep till noo, aw find aw'm wideawake

Te the evil that it's cawsed us,-an' if mine be nowt te sum,

Whey, aw'll try me best te hinder such anuther day te cum

Te me-sel an' te the mony;-an' ye knaw as weel as me

That aw'm honest and strite-forward as a workin man can be.

Then what myed us se disgracefully bring a' me frinds te grief?

What myed us be trailed throo the streets like sum vile, dorty thief?

What myed us pass last neet amang an idle, low-lifed gang,

When aw shud been at hyem i' peace, an' free frev ony rang?

What browt us te the pris'nor's box like sum poor, guilty thing,

An' on me fam'ly an' me-sel such misery te bring,

An' fill thor breests wi' shem an' pain,-hoo can aw meet thor eyes?

Hoo can me maister trust us noo ?-

Aw ask ye is this wise?

What else but drink-the country's curse-browt this mischief te me?

So frae man's greatest enemy this moment aw'll be free!

An' if ye'Il tyek a mate's advice, ye'll try an' de the syem,

For drunkenness 'Il nivvor tend te myek a happy hyem.

The lesson that aw've lairnt the day shall iver be me plan,

Te shun disgrace an' try te be respected as a man! "

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THE NEET SCHEUL

TEUN- "The Lancashire Lass."

WOR Jack's a young lad that's byeth clivor an' smart,

His heed's full 0' knollidge an' a' kinds 0' lairnin;

He's got a' the scheul beuks clean off be heart,

An' nowt else wad please him but startin a scheul.

He thowt he cud de the thing complete,

Efter wark, i' the hoose, myest ivry neet,

Wi' lads an' lasses belangin the street,

He wad seun hey a canny bit scheul,

Korus

"If they'd say eftor me thor ABC,"

He thowt it wad de se canny an' clivor ;

 But ABC DEan' F G

Wes owt but a spree for poor Jack at the scheu!.

The scholars he got wes a thick-heeded lot,

They had bother'd the heed ov mony a maister,

Till hopeless they'd let them a' gan te pot,

So Jack got them a' when he opened the scheul;

Besides they war nearly twice Jack's age,

If they broke a slate or tore a page,

They wad laffte see him get iv a rage,

An they'd myek quite a scene i' scheu!.

Says one, "What's the gud ov us lairnin at a'?

When aw can get me muther te read the papers;"

Says anuther, "Aw'lllairn when aw'm auder, aw knaw,

That 'ill save us the trouble ov gannin te scheul!"

Then anuther wad seun brick up the class,

Wi' startin te tease anuther lad's lass,

An' if Jack spoke they'd smack his jaws,

So they seun put an end te the scheul,

Says Jack, "But ye'll a' rue this i' the end,

Thor's nowt ye'll regret like yor lairnin neglected,

Ye pay ne attenshun becawse aw's yor frind,

When aw's willin te teach ye ye'll not hey a scheul

Ye'll think 0' the chance ye've thrawn away,

An' mony a time ye'll rue the day

That ye broke up me little bit scheul.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THE PAINTED NOSE!

TEUN-" Irish Mally, O!"

JIM TODD wes once a gud-like chep,

Wi' nose byeth clean an' strite;

His cheeks had a nice rosy tint

Abuv the skin se white.

Until he joined a drunken lot,

His features had repose;

But brandy myed an ugly change,

It pimpled a' his nose.

Korus.

It spoiled his fyece se canny,

An' his failins did expose;

It's not a plissint seet te see

A drunkard's painted nose!

At forst he thowt them beauty spots,

That seun wad gan away;

He cuddent think he'd hey a nose

Like that frae day te day.

He sighed as he luckt i' the glass,

Wi' feelins quite morose,

Te see his cheeks se varry pale,

An' such a fierynose!

He got advice frae docter cheps,

But a' that they cud say,

Wes if he'd let the drink alyen,

'Twad mebbies gan away.

It teuk him eers te cullur'd se,

An' munny, aw suppose:

The brandy that he drunk wad myek't

A real expensive nose!

An' so he carries on his fyece

The drunkard's glarin sign!

Ye cannet called an ornament,

Tho brightly it dis shine.

But if he'll tyek a frind's advice,

An' de what aw propose,

He'll drink ne mair, but tyek the pledge,

An' get a different nose!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

DEETH l' THE STREET

RECITATION. 'TWES a fearful seet,

 l' the winter's neet,

A wummin lyin drunk i' the street.

Sum thowt she wes bad,

Or deed wi' the cawd,

She luckt se starved an' se poorly clad.

They wad tyek her up,

An' give her a sup:

Her breeth smelt strang  0' the cursed cup.

They myest.let her fall,

But a frindly wall

Stopt her, as she opened her shawl.

What wes that that fell?

Aw can hardly tell.

Was she a wummin or fiend from hell?

Se drunk i' the street,

On a winter's neet,

Wiv her bairn lyin a corpse at her feet!

'Twes frozen te deeth,

An' they held thor breeth,

As they held the corpse, wi' chatterin teeth.

Poor thing! it wes cawd;

A bonny bit lad;

Eneuff te myek the most heartless sad.

They teuk them away;

An' a frosty day

Opened as they i' the station lay.

Aw'm silent an' brief

On a muther's grief;

But i' deeth, that day, she'd felt relief:

For a lifeless child,

An' a parent wild,

Wes seen, as the sun shone soft an' mild.

‘Here the nation's curse

On a bairnless nurse

Wes seen iv its evils, strong in force.

An' so it 'ill be,

Till the country's free

Frae the drink that works such misery.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

WHAT A FEUL AW'VE BEEN!

TEUN-"John Anderson my Jo."

Aw mind the time, when full 0' strength,

Aw gaily went te wark,

An' care sat leetIy On me broo

Frae mornin until dark.

A happy fam'ly be me side

Enlivened a' the scene;

But noo the change, the weary change,

Shows what a feul aw've been.

Contented wi' me daily lot,

Industry charmed me heart,

An' high it beat wi' honest hope,

Sum day aw'd myek a start

I' bissniss, maister for me-sel,

An' this aw might heh been;

But oh, the drink, the weary drink,

Shows what a feul aw've been.

Aw had a hoose, a canny hoose,

An' luvin wife beside;

An' bairns that clung around me knee,

Thor dad and mammy's pride.

Poor things! they dropped off one be one,

For poverty se keen

Com roond us wiv a deedly blast

Man, what a feul aw've been!

The hoose that shud hey been a hyem

Te wife an' bairns for life,

Wes myed a scene ov nowt but want

An' nivvor-ending strife.

Wi' happiness completely lost,

Ne hoose, ne wife, nor wean,

The miserable life aw lead

Shows what a feul aw've been.

DRINK NE MAIR!

TEUN- "Trust te Luck."

DRINK ne mair! drink ne mair!

Tyek advice that's weel meant:

Thor's not one that abstains

Ivor knawn te repent.

They've seen throo thor folly,

They've got common sense,

Te keep them frae misery,

Low life, an' expense.

Thor brains once se muddled,

They find bright an' clear,

An' things oncese cloody

Sunshiney appear.

Drink ne mair! drink ne mair!

Drink ne mair for yor life!

Drink ne mair for yor-sel,

For yor bairns an' yor wife.

Then attend-aw's yor frind,

Tyek advice that's wee! meant:

Thor's not one that abstains

Ivor knawn te repent.

Drink ne mair !-throo the air,

Thor's a voice that repeats

These words te the drunkard,

In hoose, bed, or streets.

An' they whisper a warnin

That nyen shud neglect,

If thor anxious te win

Byeth gud frinds an' respect.

Wi firm resolution,

Hoo seun they'll obtain

Such a hearty gud change;

Ne mair they'll complain,

Or wish they war lifeless,

An' eager for deeth,

But welcum the mornin

Wi' hilth i' thor breeth.

Then attend-aw's yor frind,

Tyek advice that's weel meant:

Thor's not one that abstains

Ivor knawn te repent.

Drink ne mair i-true an' fair

Is the warnin we give:

It 'ill lengthen yor days;

It's a plissure te live,

Wi' ne thowts te darken

The bright, open day,

But honest reflections

Te keep care away;

Contented an' cheerful,

Wi plenty i' store,

Nivvor dreedin the thowts

0' the neet gyen before.

Keep away frae despair,

If ye'll only but think

Ov the happiness lost

Throo gein way te the drink.

Then attend-aw's yor frind,

Thor all frinds that declare,

For the sake 0' yor-sel,

Drink ne mair! drink ne mair !

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

FLOG'D IN JAIL!

RECITATION

WHE wad pity a drunken brute

That struck a helpless man?

That robbed an' nearly killed, for drink,

A poor an' crippled man?

An' whe wes this unfeelin wretch?

That rascal, Fightin Dan!

Thor's sum, if they can use thor fists,

Such greet advantage take;

They'll double't in yor varry fyece,

Te put ye in a shake,

Te myek ye give what ye refuse

If ye are wideawake.

An' so did Dan treat this poor man,

Aw've mentioned once before:

He tried te myek him pay for drink,

An' then he cursed an' swore,

Then followed him up sum byway

The villainI-like a cur !

'Twes nearly murder: but he lived

Te limp doon te the court,

An' there describe the foul attack,

An' tell where he wes hurt;

The sentence that Dan got that day

Wes onything but sport.

For days he waited i' the jail,

Till one day, tiv his ward,

The turnkey com te tell him he

Wes wanted in the yard.

He seun wes stript an' fastened up

"Gan at it I-hit him hard!"

An' so they did: they hit him hard,

An' Dan turned varry pale ;

Tho seldum frightened ov a man,

The "cat" seun myed him quail.

He yeIled,-it hurt his feelins se,

This bein fiog'd i' jail.

He cried for marcy!- mark the words !

For marcy, at each stroke!

But had he any marcy for

The man he tried te choke?

No! not a bit; not even if

His victim's neck had broke!

Ne pity for the hardened wretch;

Ne sympathy or fear:

Thor'sower mony like him, an'

We divvent want them here:

Thor's sum wad commit ony crime,

Ay, murder, for thor beer!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

LAST NEET AW FELL OOT WI' ME MATE!

TEUN- "The Gallowgate Lad."

AW'M bad, but aw's always complainin,

Me heed's just as thick as can be,

Se often aw get on the fuddle,

Reflection's ne plissure for me;

Me-sel aw cud start noo an' hammer,

Aw think se much shem te relate;

Throo the drink aw's byeth sad an' unhappy,

Last neet aw fell oot wi' me mate.

A canny young fellow is Geordey,

He's been a real gud un te me;

It's fewthat's enjoy'd better frindship,

Se kind an' true-hearted is he ;

Aw nivvor fell oot wi' me comrade,

Till last neet, aw'm sorry te state:

Aw teuk offme coat for te fight him,

Te fight wi' maw canny aud mate.

Wi' spirits an' beer nearly crazy,

Disputin each word that he said:

Me tung full ov owt but gud langwidge,

A mis'rable time on't aw myed;

Aw struck him, an' show'd me bad temper,

Man! me-sel aw cud willingly hate ;

Aw cud cry, aw's that full 0' vexation,

Te think aw fell oot wi' me mate.

Poor fellow, he tried te persuade us

Te pitch up the drink for me gud,

An' he said, if aw'd try, wiv a struggle

Aw'd did, an' quite easy aw cud;

But stubborn, aw started te call him

A preacher, se paltry, te prate;

Aw treated wi' scorn his true kindness,

An' scoff'd at maw canny aud mate.

Aw saw the poor lad wes quite nettled,

An' sorry te see me that way;

He tried te put me in gud humour,

Not one angry word wad he say;

But heed-strang an' fiercely ungrateful,

Wi' passion that waddent abate;

Aw call'd him a "nowt" for his trouble,

An' fairly fell out wi' me mate.

When sober hoo happy tegither

We've been, an' we always cud be,

Aw'll tyek his advice, turn teetotal,

The varry best thing aw can de:

For drink myeks a man se unhappy,

Throo trouble it's sure te create;

It separates frinds an' relations,

An' myeks a chep loss a gud mate.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

CLIVOR MEN!

TEUN-" Barbary Bell."

YE may talk aboot clivor men bein greet drinkers,

An' reckon yor-sel as a one 0' that sort,

An' run doon teetotal te cheps that's not thinkers,

But, hinny, what say ye to Cowen an' Burt?

Are they i' yor list amang a' yor greet talent,

If not, myek a fresh un if only for sport,

An' heed it wi' one 0' the best 0' Gud Templars,

The M.P. for Morpeth, the nyem Thomas Burt.

It's a credit to send for thor member a pitman,

They knew he desarved it, an' voted like men;

What he's deun issent halfwhat he's gan te de yit,man,

In Parliament seun he'll myek famous his nyem.

He talks like a man wiv his senses aboot him,

Thor's nowt stimulates him se much as the worth

Ov his awn canny frinds, an' they nivvor need doot him,

The workin-man's frind, an' the pride 0' the North.

Thor's uthers like him aw cud mention wi' plissure,

But, bliss ye, 'twad fill a big beuk such a size;

Thor nyems i' the North we respect an' we trissure,

Joe Cowen's anuther te open yor eyes:

He knaws mair aboot a' political hist'ry,

Then lots 0' greet statesmen that's got a grand nyem,

An' hoohe thinks on't a' te me's quite a myst'ry;

He'll myek his mark yit, lad, afore he cums hyem.

So dinnet brag se when ye talk aboot drinkers,

Or dinnet ye run the teetotalers doon;

Thor's men that's abstainers can prove as greet clinkers,

An' myek thor-sels knawn te the world i' renoon.

Sobriety myeks a man's heed always clearer,

He's welcum, respected, knaws hoo te behave;

Te byeth frinds an' family he'll ivor be dearer

It dissent need whiskey te myek a man brave.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

LAZY JACK!

TEUN- "The Sewing Machine."

JACK wes a real gud workman,

His shopmates a' knew that;

But whenivor he got drink,

He'd nivvor strike a bat.

His mates wes all sober men,

An' diddent like te see

A clivor hand like Lazy Jack

Se often on the spree.

Korus

He wad hardly work a week,

Before he got the sack;

'Twes a pity te see

Such a man on the spree

Wiv a nyem like Lazy Jack!

His wife wes full 0' trubble,

An' mony weary days,

She'd humour him or scowld him

Te myek him mend his ways.

An' Jack wad say he wad did,

But when she turned her back,

He'd say, "Ne wark for me the day!"

Weel nyem'd wes Lazy Jack.

He'd often tyek a bottle,

When he wes on the spree,

Te drink at hyem, throo the neet,

A real dry chep was he.

He'd put it in the cupboard,

An' reckoned such a treat,

The time his wifewes fast asleep,

Te fuddle a' the neet.

One neet, mair drunk than ivor,

He got up for a drink,

An' seized another bottle

Afore he'd time te think.

He swally'd a gud moothful,

An' then wi' fear wes dumb:

He fund 'twas "Furnitor Polish"

An' not Jamaica Rum.

"What's this?" he cried; "aw's deun for.

Whativor is this stuff?

It's neither rum nor whiskey,

Aw's setisfied eneuff.

Gud-bye, maw ill-used wifey!

Aw'm deed I-aw's on me back!

An unintended suicide's

Yor husband, Lazy Jack!"

He thowt that he wes poisin'd,

Be gud luck he wes not;

But it gov him such a fright,

It changed him frev a sot

Tiv a useful sober man. Says he,

"If folks wad think,

An' dreed poisin noo as aw did;

They'd nivvor ne mair drink!"

Korus

A simple cure's often best,

So here aw'll end me crack;

But away an' at hyem,

Thor's a change tiv his nyern,

It's canny Industrious Jack.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THE DIFFERENCE

TEUN- "The Harp that once."

JUST see the drunkard, mean an' starved,

Gan trailin throo the street,

Appealin wiv his bleary eyes

For ye te stand him treat.

A lazy, dorty, creepin thing,

A man but i' the nyem

A sot that cares for nowt but drink,

A stranger tiv a' shem.

Despised for spungin, there he'll stand,

An' shiver heed te fut;

Sumtimes adorned wi' blackened eye,

Or else sum ugly cut,

That myeks him mair repulsive like

Yor forced te turn away,

An' wunder hoo he hes the cheek

Te turn oot throo the day.

Then see the brisk teetotal man

Gan sharply throo the street,

Wi' heed erect ;-he gains respect

Frae ivry one he'll meet.

His plissure is a bissey life,

He knaws it suits him best;

An' when relieved frae daily toil,

Thor's cumfort in his rest.

He'd like te better a' mankind

That's gyen, or led, astray;

He'd kindly tyek the drunkard's hand

Te lead him the reet way;

An' show te him the greet mistake,

In drink thor is ne gain;

That life can be a

Paradise, If he will but abstain.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

YE NIVVOR THINK THAT MIGHT BE YE!

TEUN- "The Time that me Fethur wes bad."

WHEN ye read i' the papers each morn,

Ov sum most unfortunate case,

Where poor fellows meet, throo the drink,

Thor deeth i' sum cot-the-way place;

It's unheeded, passed ower, forgot,

It's sumthingse common te see;

An' ye nivvor imagine such-like

Might just as seun happen te ye.

No, ye nivvor think that might been ye,

Yor reckoned a real stiddy man,

But ye might get a drop ower much

Te drink nyen at a's the best plan!

Wi' yor senses aboot ye se clear,

Yor footsteps is sure, safe, an' soond:

If the river cud speak, it wad say,

"Thor's seldum Teetotalers drooned !"

Then just think 0' me sang when ye read

The cases yor sartin te see,

An' ye'll find the best pairt's a' throo drink,

Sum accidents efter a spree.

When ye think 0' such untimely deeths,

It's far better te let drink a be,

For it's ne gud te sacrifice life,

That shud always be precious te ye.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

WHAT A HELPLESS CHEP AM AW!

TEUN- "The Happy Land of Erin."

WHAT a helpless chep am aw,

It's a pity ye shud knaw,

But aw cannet baud me tung, so aw mun speak, man;

For aw once wes bowld an' strang,

An' cud roar oot ony sang,

Noo aw cannet sing for sixpence, aw's se weak, man.

Korus

But join us i' the korus, an' lend a helpin hand,

Tho aw needint sing i' praise 0' rum or whiskey;

For they tyek away all power, an' if aw cud only stand,

An' wes sober, aw wad sing the" Bay 0' Biskey."

Aw's as poor as ony moose,

An' aw's not a bit 0' use,

Or an ornament te grace gud society;

An' this neet aw'll lay me bones

On a bed 0' pavin stones,

For aw hevvint sense te stick te sobriety.

But it's just what aw desarve,

Tho aw had ne call te starve,

If aw'd been a sober chep, aw'd been real clivor;

But me heed keeps in a muddle,

Throo us gettin on the fuddle,

It's a wasted life that spoils yor brains for ivor.

Hoo aw gloried in a spree,

Myekin beer an' munny flee,

Nivvor thinkin that me brass wes gettin shorter.

Aw had such a canny lass,

But aw lost her throo me glass,

Aw wes drinkin, so aw haddint time te court her.

But aw'm sure 'twes best for her,

When she showed us te the door,

'Twad been misery for life if she had married

Such a drunken chep as me,

So aw often wish te dee,

For aw nivvor will be happy till aw'm barried.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

NE CLAESI

TEUN-"The Postman's Knock."

SAYS Mary, wi' tears runnin a' doon her cheeks,

"Aw cud cry me eyes oat throo war Jack;

He spends as much munny on whiskeyan' beer

As wad put a new suit on his back;

Each Monday he promises faithful te buy

Sum claes for the bairnies an' me;

He myeks us believe that he's gannin te work,

But he's half 0' the week on the spree.

Korus

"It's a pity te see wor Jack on the spree,

He'll nivvor buy claes for the bairns or for me.

" Buy sum claes for the bairns if ye winnet forme!'

At the end 0' the week aw'll oft say;

But he puts us off wiv a paltry excuse,

Such as-' Wait till aw hev a full pay!'

He'll spend all his brass, axin foaks what they'll hev'

He's a gud-hearted fellow,'they say;

But they nivvor imagine he nivvor asks me

What aw'll hev, when at hyem, i' that way.

"It may set him off i' the cumpney he gets,

But if he'd these three-happences save,

Hoo seun he might better byeth us an' he'sel,

Ay, an' not keep his wife like a slave;

Unshaven he'd rethur gan for a full week,

Always dirty an' seedy is he;

An' the bairns an' me-sel's not a bit better off,

Throo the munny he spends iv a spree.

"Aw've mended thor claes till a stitch 'ill not haud,

If aw wesh them, te pieces they cum;

For all he sees this, an' besides they've ne shoes,

When aw speak, aw might as weel be dumb;

If he answers at a', he'll say, 'Wait, an' aw'll buy

Them a' sumthing on Seturday next;'

But Seturday cums an' it gans the syem way,

An' aw'vealways a heart sairly vext.

"There's Tommy, poor thing, tho he's happy i' rags,

He's not fit.te be seen i' the street,

An' Mally, she hesint a hat tiv her heed,

An' young Johnny ne shoes tiv his feet;

Wi' me awd claes aw often cud help them a bit,

But aw noo heh te weer them me-sel;

An' whativor 'ill cum ov us a' when thor deun,

Whey, aw cannet imagine or tell.

Wor neybors, next door, always dress smart an' neat,

An' thor always at hyem at a meal;

Thor the pictor 0' cumfort an' hearty gud hilth,

An' thor real canny foaks tee as weel;

They've wanted us often te gan up sum neet,

Te join i' the Temperance cawse,

An' then we might just be as weel off as them,

But wor Jack 'ill not gan, tho he knaws.

"Aw wish.he wad join them, an' stick te the pledge,

What a different life it wad be;

Thor's nowt but starvation an' want where thor's drink,

For the wages that cum as seun flee;

Thor's one-half condem'd for the tick that he's had,

Wi' the uther he'll gan on the spree ;

While the fam'ly may starve, wi' ne claes te thor backs,

Then God help them poor bairnies an' me."

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

HARRY'S BROKEN LEG

TEUN- "Kiss me quick and go."

YOUNG HARRY staggered throo the street,

An' got a heavy fall ;

His leg wes broke, an' there he lay

Wi' heed agyen the wall.

His groans attracted plenty folks,

But helpless there he lay,

Till frinds com up te lend a hand,

An' carry him away.

Kurus

An'.ten weeks on his bed he lay,

As helpless as cud be;

An' mony a time he rued the day

He went upon the spree.

His muther tried te cheer him up,

An' frinds com droppin in:

For Harry had a lot 0' mates

Te see his broken shin:

It frightened sum, an' myed them stop

Upon thor thowtless way;

But one 0' them, young Charley Jones,

Called in byeth neet an' day.

An' Charley often cheered him up,

Wi' readin tiv him there:

He'd tyek a beuk an' sit beside

Poor Harry iv his chair:

What Charley red wes gud an' true,

It let young Harry see

That drink, intoxicatin drink,

Nowt else but harm cud de.

An' Charley myed young Harry turn

Te think the syem as him;

An' often he wad wipe his eyes,

As they wi' tears grew dim.

He teuk the pledge-he's fund it brings

Such happiness te him;

He'll nivvor brickti-he's got mair sense,

Since he'd that broken limb.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

NANCY IN THE BARROW

TEUN-"Judy Macarty."

SAYS Jim te me-"One day aw saw

A seet that myed us glower:

A crood 0' folks wes geth'rin fast,

Aw thowt aw'd just cross ower

The street, te gaze amang the rest

At what had teuk thor fancy;

An' whe wes Iyin On the flags?

War neybor, Tipsy Nancy!

"She cuddent speak-she'd lost her tung,

Tho often she's got plenty;

She cuddent walk-she cuddent stand

A wheelbarrow stud empty.

What de ye think two on us did

Me an' a handy marrow?

We teuk her up, byeth neck an' crop,

An' put her in the barrow!

She stared aboot se helpless like,

For fear that she wes deein;

Wi' minds myed up te tyek her hyem,

We throo the streets went fieein,

Until we landed at the door,

Then lifted her like winkin,

An' left her safe eneuff te snore

An' get clear ov her drinkin.

They teli us when she wakened up,

Myest ivry byen wes akin;

She thowt the world wes upside doon,

She'd gettin such a shakin.

She blaired and cried like any bairn,

Upon her bed se narrow,

When tell'd sum frinds had browt her hyem

Se public i' the barrow. "

"Oh, wes aw born te be browt up,

Then turn a drunken wummin?'

She cried, wi' monny bitter tears;

'An' here's me gud-man cummin!

Aw'm sober now.-What will he think

(When aw'm for life his marrow),

If he hears tell, throo a' the streets,

They've wheel'd us iv a barrow? "

Such seets may be grand fun te sum,

But, oh, it is disgustin;

At last aw really de think shyem

Me heart, it's nearly brustin!

Ne mair aw'll touch the filthy stuff,

Me feelins se te harrow;

An' if it proves te me a cure,

Aw'll bliss that awful barrow!"

She teuk the pledge, an' kept it tee,

An' noo she's what aw fancy:

A canny neybor, clean an' kind;

Weel liked be a' is Nancy.

But shyem still myeks her hang her heed,

She's gawn te shift te Jarrow,

In hopes nebody there 'ill knaw

Her journey in the barrow.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

A DRUNKEN MAN!

'TEUN- "The Cork-Leg."

IF ivor ye want te hear black's white,

If ivor ye want a reglor fight,

Hoo seun the flame ye can easily fan,

If ye contradict a drunken man.

Let him say owt, an' ye divvent agree,

If ye tell him he's rang, he'll let ye see

That ye cannet be reet withoot his plan;

An' thor's nyen se wise as a drunken man.

He'll say his wife's the best i' the toon,

An' the varry next minnit knock her doon,

An' hammer her heed wi' poker an' pan:

A deevil on orth is a drunken man.

He'll grummil at owt, an' hey his way,

An' contradict ivry word ye say;

The subject 'ill finish where ye began,

Withoot thor's a fight wi' the drunken man.

He'll tell ye what he's deun iv his days,

An' stick atnowt if it's just self-praise;

The Lord 0' Creation here ye'll scan:

Chock-full 0' conceit is the drunken man.

He'll brag ova' that belangs te him,

His Uncle Bob and his Cousin Jim;

His tarrier dogs, that's black an' tan,

Is a subject grand for the drunken man.

He'll tell ye that he's canny an' croose,

Wiv a cumley wife an' a forst-rate hoose,

An' thor's nyen such happiness can span;

But ye munnit believe a drunken man!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THE DOUBLE EVENT!

 TEUN- "A Nice Young Man."

DICK wes a chep that stuck at nowt,

If it wad only pay;

He got an agent's job for beer,

An' myed brass i' that way.

He liked te swagger throo the toon,

An' call at ivry bar;

An' he seun got celebrated

As a trav'ler near an far.

He quickly myed a roarin trade,

An' drove his gig quite smart;

He wad seun be independent

Wi' myekin such a start :

At least he thowt se; so he'd try

Te myek his profits mair :

He'd hev a hand in sumthing else,

What at he diddent care.

But startin bissniss for he'sel

Stuck firmly in his mind;

He'd try a one that waddent fail

The undertakin kind.

An' so he did: he teuk a shop

Built in a weel-knawn street,

Exposin i' the windows there

New coffins te yor seet.

Ay, coffins! bonny handled, tee,

An' breest-plates, met yor view;

Ye cud stand an' calculate yor fit

An' this is really true.

He'd sell his beer te customers,

An' when thor life wes spent,

He'd coffins ready, gud an' cheap,

Wi' joiners kindly sent.

Thor's sum men hes a narve for owt,

If munny they can make;

Thor not porticklor what it is,

If it 'ill only take.

Te think a man shud deal i' beer,

An' deal i' coffins, tee,

Might shock the strangest vulgor mind;

But it's a fact, ye see!

Dick's frinds an'.foes wes a' surprised,

They thowt he'd seun repent;

An' for a lark they chris'end him

"The Double Greet Event! "

But Dick gets on-the Deevil's frind,

His smile it's always grim;

He knaws when he cums tiv his bier,

A coffin waits for him.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

BUY US A GILL 0' BEER!

TEUN-" When the Kye cums hame."

A CHEP that cadjes for a gill

'Ill nivvor gived a thowt,

An' nivvor reckon that the beer

He begs hes te be bowt.

 If he knew ony shyem at a',

These words wad strike his ear,

If askin for a treat, he'd say"

Buy us a gill 0' beer? "

Korus

"Buy us a gill 0' beer's"

Not attractive te the ear;

It'll tyeka chepwi' narvete say"

Buy us a gill 0' beer!"

He asks ye if ye'll stand a glass

In a sneakin kind 0' way,

Such as-" Aw'm very dry this morn,

Aw want te wet me clay,"

He thinks it's not se beggin-like,

An' not at a' severe;

Altho its meanin's just the syem

"Buy us a gill 0' beer!"

An' this is hoo a chep 'ill spunge,

For folks te feed his greed;

Thor's lots wad giv him nowt at a'

If he said, "Buy us breed! "

An' lots wad hesitate a bit,

For all his meanin's clear,

If he wad only ask them thus

"Cum, hinny, buy us beer! "

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

A VARRY HARD BED!

TEUN- "The Laird 0' Cockpen."

HE wes lyin asleep i' the broad day-leer,

Stritch'd oat his full length i' the wide open street;

The curb-stone his pillow, quite helpless wes Ned,

Unconscious he lay on a varry hard bed.

Sumtimes he wad grummil at foaks passin by,

Then he'd give a greet snore, an' heave a greet sigh;

Not dreamin that cairts on his toes might hev tred,

He lay there se drunk on his varry hard bed.

A crood gether'd roond, an' the pollis perplext,

Cud dent waken him up, so they got varry vext;

For a stritcher one off te the station-hoose sped,

Then they carried him off tiv anuther hard bed.

He slept a' 'the neet, but next mornin, se sair,

He waken'd, an' started te find he'sel there;

He luckt roond aboot him, says he,

"Aw's misled, For if this is maw hoose it's a different bed! "

"Whativer on orth's browt us here?" ·then he said,

"Aw diddent cum here be me-sel, aw's aflaid ;

Aw'd slept just as weel in abroken-doon shed,

Me byens may weel ake on this hard-hearted bed! "

But the pollis com In, an' it open'd his eyes,

When the magistrates spoke he luckt up wi' surprise;

Says they, "Ye've had lodgins since hereye war led:"

Says he, "But ye gov us an awful hard bed

I’ It cost him ten shillins,-he myed his way hyem,

Wi' heed-ake, an' heart-ake, an' byens just the syem ;

Says he, "Ne mair fuddlin, such nonsense is fled,

Aw've cum te maw senses upon that hard bed!"

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

TE LEEVE FOR A HUNDRID EERS!

TEUN- "Cum whoam te yor Childer and Me."

STRANGE ideas creep inte wor heeds,

Difficult ye'd think te conceive:

Yet hoo often they'll cum te amuse,

Mair often then we cud believe;

It's just two or three days since young Smith,

A frind 0' mine, laffin appears

Sayin, "What a queer world this wad be

If we allleev'd a whole hundrid eers

If we had, an' we knew that we had

Te leeve for a full hundrid eers !"

The foaks waddent care when they war ill,

They'd nivvor need docterin then,

For the young uns we'd nivvor need fear,

Bein sure they'd grow wimmen an' men;

An' we'd welcum the dear little things

Withoot ony sadness or tears,

For we'd knaw throo thor trubbles they'd pull,

An' they'd leeve for a whole hundrid eers

If they had, an' we knew that they had

Te leeve for a whole hundrid eerst

Then i' courtin we'd nivvor loss heart,

For we'd knaw thor wes plenty 0' time

Te find one, if a lot diddent suit,

An' till ninety we'd be i' wor prime;

But at fifty aw'd freely propose,

An' be seconded safe wi' greet cheers,

That nebody shud work efter that,

Let them rest for the next fiftyeers,

An' experience the real joys 0' life

Till the end 0' the whole hundrid eers.

Aw can hardly imagine what scenes

Thor wad be wi' the time drawin nigh,

Hoo sum wad kneel doon an' repent

While uthers heart-broken wad cry;

Thor wad still be sum wantin a spree,

Nivvor thinkin ov sorrow or tears;

But uthers as prompt as cud be,

Wad pay up all debts in arrears;

While uthers content an' prepared,

Wad finish the lang hundrid eers.

But, bliss ye! if this wes the case,

Thor's sum foaks that's nivvor content,

'Phey'd want te leeve fifty eers mair,

An' fifty eers mair te repent;

So aw think war all best as we are,

An' when hope frev each breest disappears

Let reflections byeth peaceful an' sweet

Myek us knaw we've not wasted wor eers;

That we've leev'd, just as if we had leev'd

For the whole 0' the .Iang hundrid eers.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

SEEIN DOUBLE

TEUN- "Sally Lee."

ONE day aw got me portrait teun,

When aw wes on the spree;

Aw went an' showed it te me wife,

Says she, "It's just like ye !”

Aw lafft an' felt pleased that it wes,

Says aw, "That's varry true! "

But when aw luckt intiv its fyece,

I cud swore thor wes two.

Korus

Two-fowld eyesight's anything but spree;

Two heeds, fower airms, two foaks for one te see.

Thor's sum may think it's funny,

But aw'Il not bed, indeed;

For wben a cbep sees double, whey,

He's nearly oot his heed.

Says aw, "Thor's two heeds on me neck

Upon this pictor here! "

 Says she, "Man, ye see double, for

Ye've been upon the beer! "

"See double! de ye think aw's drunk,"

Says aw," maw canny lass! "

Aw luckt agyen, but still aw saw

Two heeds upon the glass.

Aw luckt up te maw bonny wife,

Says aw, "Maw darlin Bell!"

When aw saw she had two fyeces

Byeth laflin like her-sel.

Says aw, "Hev aw got two wives here?"

Says she, "Don't be an ass! "

Aw turned maw heed, an' saw me fyece

Twice i' the luckin-glass.

Aw saw two fiddles hanging up,

Aw knew aw just had one;

Thinks aw, aw'd better heh them doon;

Aw'll try the uther's tone.

Aw got on what aw thowt two chairs,

Te reach them frae the wall,

Aw fund aw'd just one i' me hand,

An' not let either fall.

Aw saw two tyebles on the floor ;

Six chairs, tho we'd but three;

Two kettles singin on the hob,

An' fower cups 0' tea.

Aw saw me two wives suppin theirs,

Says aw, "Hoo de ye de?

Aw diddent knaw my wife wes twins

Yor welcum byeth te me !"

Aw sat there fairly mesmerised,

An' tried awake te keep;

Aw fund me senses cummin te

As aw wes gawn te sleep.

But when aw wakened up, aw went,

An', sober, signed the pledge;

Thinks aw, this seein double's close

Upon the madhoose edge.

The above may also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

MURDER THROO DRINK: THE GALLOWS

RECITATION

THEY'VE teun him off te the Station noo,

Sumbody said that they always knew

'Twad end like this; for the fearful strife

Wad only end i' the loss ov a life,

An' that wad be i' the life ov the wife.

"Murder!" wes whispered in ivry breeth.

A poor aud wummin wes kicked te deeth

Ay, kicked te deeth wivher man's greet feet

In hob-nail beuts, that he wore i' the street.

An' sumbody said that it sarved her reet.

Sumbody always hes sumthing te say.

Aw heard they'd been drinkin mony a day

Ay, mony 11 day an' many a year,

Till the wummin had lost a' sense 0' fear,

An' nivvor thowt that her end wes near.

But ivry life mun cum tiv an end,

The seuner wi' drinkin, ye may depend;

The seuner wi' drink, for it's murder's mate,

For it fills the breest wi' passion an' hate,

That the hangman nivvor hes lang te Walt.

The prisoner sits iv his gloomy cell,

An' hears for his-sel the funeral bell.

But sumbody says that they owt te see

The murderer hung on the gallows tree;

It's a shem that it shud se private be.

Oh, but sumbody here shud stop an' think

Ov the evil deun throo the evil drink.

For it's murder here, an' it's murder there,

It's murder throo drink myest ivrywhere,

An' the gallows is varry seldom bare.

Keep clear 0' the drink for yor lives, aw say;

Keep't oot 0' yor awn an' yor bairns' way,

Tho sumbody says it'll de ye gud;

But it nivvor will, nor it nivvor cud;

It corrupts the mind, the body, an' blud.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

JANEY TODD'S ANCESTORS

TEUN-" Nelly Gray."

 SAYSJaney Todd, "Me ancestors wes nivvor up te much,

They all war ower fond 0' drinking beer;

Thor's not one 0' the fam'ly that wes nivvor knawn te touch

Sum 'toxicatin stuff when they war here.

Korus

"Me ancestors wes drunkards frae the farrest back aw trace,

An' they've left us nowt te brag on i' thor side;

They've only left behint them thor bad nyems full 0' disgrace,

An' thor's not one aw can luck upon wi' pride.

"Me granfethur wes transported: throo the drink he signed a nyem,

That wassent his, upon sum kind 0' check;

The judges, when they sentenced him te siven years frae hyem,

Called him lucky for that time te save his neck.

"His bruther wesanuther, throo the drink, that went astray,

He listed for a sowljor; but his pains

Seun finished i' dileerium: he teuk a gun one day,

An' i' the horrors blew oot all his brains.

"Me unkil, nivvor sober, always wad be oot the train

As seun as ony platform com in seet.

One neet, he got his leg teun off, throo this, at Pelaw Main,

An' myest ivrybody said it sarved him reet.

"Me fethur's little better; aw wish aw cud mend his ways,

But he scowls at me, an' fills us full 0' fear;

He nivvor speaks kind tiv us except when awpawn his claes,

Then he'll try an' smile, an' offer me sum beer.

"He'll brag ov his relations always bein killed throo drink:

One wes hung, two wes scumfished, three wes drooned;

An' he'll say me muther's ancestors wes spunges that wad slink

Throo the streets, for they war thievishly renooned.

"But the drink, that curse an' evil, dissent always end i' deeth,

For thor varry nyems behint them's tret wi' scorn,

An' thor crimes an' misdeeds mentioned i' posterity's sad breeth

Wishin, prayin, that it nivvor had been born."

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

ON THE BEER!

TEUN- "Terence's Farewell."

JACK BARKLEY'S thick-heeded an' lazy,

He lounges aboot like a feul ;

Unshaven an' dorty, he'll deave ye

As seun as he iver gets full.

He'll sing an' he'Il shoot like a madman,

His fav'rit's wee! knawn, "Cheer, Boys, Cheer!"

An' he'll blair wiv a fyece sentimental;

He's noisy, not lively, wi' beer.

Wild Bob gans aboot foaks insultin,

Ye'd think at the world he'd a spite;

He'll dunch agyen foaks that he passes,

An' try an' provoke them te fight.

He likes te fall oot wi' the pollis,

His eyes frae the black's seldum clear;

In fact, he's a black altegither,

Nivvor safe when he gans on the beer.

Lang Polly gans daft when she's drinkin,

Neglectin her gud-man an' bairns;

She'll sit dayan' neet when she tipples

Alang wiv her neybor, Doll Cairns.

DoIl laffs at owt-screams like a nidiot,

Poll cries wiv a crokidile's tear;

Thor a nice-luckin sample 0' wimmen

These two, when they get on the beer!

Ruff Bill thinks but nowt aboot smashin

Whativer may cum iv his way;

He threw a glass plate at his wife, an'

It struck thor poor bairn as it lay.

They've tyekin Bill off te the station;

He threatens that, when he gets clear,

He'll myek his poor wife sairly suffer;

He's a miscreant maddened wi' beer.

They may sing silly sangs iv its praises,

An' butter the Scotch an' the Mild;

But where is its qualities precious?

It myeks men unsettled an' wild.

Thor a' better, far better, withoot it,

Throo the world they can steadily steer,

With a heed byeth cool, firm, an' collected,

Withoot thor brains muddled wi' beer.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

I’M ALWAYS DRY !

TEUN- "Trab, Trab,"

Aw cud welcum ivry mornin

Wiv a heart byeth leet an' gay,

An' the sun agyen returnin

 Te myek bright anuther day;

But aw de nowt else but sigh,

For aw feel se awful dry!

Dry, dry, dry, dry,

Aw'm always dry:

Whativer can aw try?

Yis; the mornin' may be plissint,

An' the birds may sweetly sing;

But thor's not a charm, thor issent,

That can joy te maw heart bring.

When aw luck up te the sky,

Te feel better hoo aw try;

But dry, dry, dry,

Aw'malways dry:

Whativer can aw try?

Can aw not find resolution

Te dispel this dreadful thirst?

An' te save me constitution

Is thor nowt te be enforced?

Is thor nowt that aw can try?

Can sum gud frind not reply?

For dry, dry, dry,

Aw'm always dry

Whativer can aw try?

Thor's a voice heard throo the nation,

An' it whispers, "Stop, gud frind !

If ye keep frae dissipation,

What a greet relief ye'll find.

An' ye'll bliss us by-an'-by,

If ye'll only just comply.

Then try, try, try:

Ye'Il not be dry,

If Temperance ye'Il try!"

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

DE WITHOOT IT FOR ONCE!

TEUN- “The Boys of Kilkenny."

DE withoot it for once, an' ye'll want it ne mair,

Ye'll not care for'd then, no, aw'm sure ye'll not care;

Just heh firm resolution; yor sure te miss'd noo,

But efter, ye'll be a teetotaler true.

Shun drink as a poisin : it poisins the mind;

It poisins the body; an' feelins se kind

Sink under its power. Kill the tyrant at once,

An' strive te be free, when ye knaw ye've the chance.

Ye say that it myeks ye se awfully bad,

Then what myeks ye tyek such a thing, canny lad?

If ye knew the blissin te let it aleyn,

Ye'l! nivvor ne mair touch the vile stuff agyen.

De withoot it for once, an' ye'll think 0' me words

When, happy, ye'll find what abstainin affords;

An' ye'll say te yor-sel, "If ye'd only but knew,

Years since ye wad been a teetotaler true! "

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

A SET FIGHT.

TEUN-" Trip to Tynenmouth."

"OH, hinny, Joe, aw's oat 0' breeth,

Got two black eyes, an' lost three teeth,

Aw thowt aw'd just escape wi' deeth!"

Says Drunken Dick the Striker,

0 ! " Aw've' had a fight wi' Meg Dunn's man,

Becas he said maw hide he'd tan;

He said aw tell'd his sister Nan

War Mally diddent like her, 0 !

"Says Nan te me, 'Ye drunken sot!

Yor all alike-a boosy lot!'

Then at me heed she flung a pot,

An' cut us on the temple, 0 !

Meg Dunn then says, Ye silly cull !

Ye shuddent notis such a feul,

Withoot ye give his nose a pull!

She did, but not se gentle, 0 !

"Then whe shud cum up but war Mall.

Directly that she saw me fall,

She knockt Fat Nan agyen the wall,

An' gov her a nose-ender, O!

Then whe shud follow but war Nell,

As brave as any score her-sel,

She'd help war Mall te hev a spell,

Wi' heart byeth tuff an' tender, 0 !

"She went reet up te Tom Dunn's wife,

An' swore she'd tyek her varry life,

Withoot.knawn any cawse for strife,

But langin te be fightin, 0 !

They seun went at it left an' reet,

Whole fower fightin i' the street;

Aw wished that aw wes oot 0' seet,

It's what aw've ne delight in, 0 !

" Aw nivvor knew till Tom Dunn's blows

Com poorin on me mooth an' nose;

But when he tried me eyes te close,

Aw roared oot lood, 'It's murder,

0 ! ' Says he, 'Y e sheep, shut up yor jaw,

Or else aw'lliay ye groanin law!'

He did; aw shut me eyes, an' saw

'Twes best te keep gud order, 0 !

" Wor Nell an' Mally cuddent speak;T

he Dunns wes laid up for a week;

Ne summonses we had te seek,

We got them withoot thinkin, 0 !

Then fines apiece we had te pay.

Whativer myed us fight that day

Not one of us cud iver say,

Except we'd a' been drinkin, O!"

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

A DRUNKEN WIFE

TEUN- "The Cruiskeen Lawn."

THE greetest plague in life Is a dirty, drunken wife,

An' the man disarves greet pity that hes such;

For it's bad eneuff for men Tyekin glasses noo an' then,

Withoot a wummin that tyeks ower much.

Her wretched-luckin hyem Issent worthy 0' the nyem,

Where starvation, wiv its horrors, shows its heed;

It byeth turns yor heart an' eye,

An' it myeks a body sigh,

Where ivrything but varmint's nearly deed.

It's a sad an' painful case,

When a wife forgets her place,

An' desarts the canny bairns she shud protect;

An' she losses a' for life,

That's a trissure iv a wife,

When she losses tiv her-sel-her self-respect.

Sittin tipplin i' the bar,

Wi' the neybors myekin war,

She's a torment, full 0' danger te them a'.

A mischievous wummin's tung Issent fit te be unstrung

Wiv intoxicatin liquors-that aw knaw.

She nivvor hes ne care

Aboot owt but gettin mair,

An' te get it, whey, she's not porticklor hoo.

Just tell her she tells a lee,

An' ye'll find,I t best te flee

It's a hopeless case if ye for marcy sue.

See a drunken wummin fight,

Hoo her eyes 'ill glare wi' spite,

An' she's not at a' porticklor whe she strikes:

She Can fight wi' them she hates,

For her passion nivvor waits,

An' a word 'ill myek her fight wi' them she likes.

Hoo blist a man sbud be,

Frev a drunken wummin free,

He may welcum ony uther kind 0' strife;

For the varry meanest slave

Wad as seun be in his grave

As be married tiv a drunken, dorty wife.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

TEETOTAL INJOYMENT

TEUN- “Be kind te me Dowler."

CUM, Johnny, gan wi' me the neet

Aw'l! tyek ye tiv a meetin,

Where ye'll fall in wi' kindly foaks,

They'll gie ye frindly greetin.

Ye'll find teetotal men can myek

Injoyment for thor neybors ;

An' ivrything se hyemly-like

Attends thor honest labours.

Korus

Then oh, Johnny, cum alang wi' me,

An' ye'll see what's teetotal injoyment.

Ye'll not find them a' speak at once,

Nor nivvor see them fightin;

They knaw hoo te behave thor-sels,

l' that they tyek delight in.

Byeth canny lads an' lasses, tee,

May gan there wi' greet plissure,

An' lissen te the bonny sangs

That 'liven up war leisure.

Ye'll find it dissent need the drink

Te myek a fellow merry;

An' when ye gan back hyemat neet,

Thor's nowt te myek ye sorry.

Thor's ne reflections here te dull

Yor peace 0' mind next roornin,

Te myek ye wake wi' akin heed,

An' throat a' parched an' burnin.

Ye'll need ne help te tyek ye hyem,

Ye'l! walk there firm an' clivor;

 If once ye'll gan, ye'll gan agyen,

An' then abstain for iver.

It only needs a firm gud heart

Te stick te self-denial;

An' then ye'll bless the happy day

Ye gov us a fair trial.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

TEETOTAL NOO!

TEUN- “The Cure."

Iv a' the" cures " that's in the world

Thor's one that's stud the test,

An' seun 'ill be established as

The safest an' the best:

That's abstinence frae alchohol!

It cheers the heart a' throo

Te hear anuther member's myed,

An' he's teetotal noo.

Korus

I Teetotal noo! teetotal noo!

It cheers the heart a' throo

Te hear anuther member's myed,

An' he's teetotal noo.

Aw'll tell ye a few cures it's myed:

Bill Thorn wes varry bad,

He thowt that he wes gannin fast

Says aw, "Maw canny lad,

Just pitch up drinkin what ye de,

Or else ne mair ye'll hew!"

He did, an' noo he's stoot an' strang,

For he's teetotal noo.

Tom Rolly's hilth wes leavin him,

He got that dreadful weak;

When weel, he wes a noisy chep,

Wi' such a lot d cheek:

But noo he's stiddy, weel-behaved,

He's bid the beer adieu!

Just ask him, he knaws which is best,

For he's teetotal noo.

Ned Whalley's temper wes the warst

Ov any i' the street;

He used te hit an' kick his wife

He nigh killed her one neet:

But noo thor just as happy, an'

Glad smiles leet up each broo;

The reason 0' this wondrous change

Is, he's teetotal noo.

Jack Bruce wes thowt a hopeless case,

Myest always bad an' pale;

He passed his time away frae hyem

When he wes oot 0' jail:

But noo he's got a canny job;

The gentlemen in blue

Miss Jack-he's nivvor i' thor hands,

For he's teetotal noo.

Aw nivvor saw a chep se thin

As Davey Bones once was;

Starvation, like a walkin ghost,

Wes pictor'd in his Jaws.

It teuk a while te get him roond,

At last heTiilthy grew;

An' lately he's mair like a man,

For he's teetotal noo.

But, bliss ye! aw might sing a' neet,

An' subjects nivvor cease,

Te prove hoo mony lives 0' war's

Been alter'd inte peace.

The happy change, the gladnin change,

Shud always get its due,

Convartin drunken men te say

That they're teetotal noo.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THROO GETTIN SE TIPSY LAST NEETT

TEUN- "Cum into my Cabin, Red Robin."

Aw's awfully shaky an' narvis,

Aw's trimmilin just like a leaf;

Aw cuddent tyek brickfist or dinner,

Tho me wife had a bonny bit beef.

She myed broth for the gud 0' me stomick,

Aw'd injoyed them if aw had been reet;

But aw cuddent get ower a spoonful,

Throo us gettin se tipsy last neet.

Aw's frightened te luck at me shadow,

An' me voice trimmils se when aw speak;

Aw hevvint the strength ov a kitten;

Aw s dreadfully timid an' weak.

Me eyes is a' reed wi' the blud-shot;

Aw hardly can stand on me feet;

Aw's not fit for work, an' aw cannet,

Throo us gettin se tipsy last neet.

Two hands te the glass that aw lifted

Aw had, an' it nigh teuk me breeth ;

An' aw gulped doon the brandy an' soda,

As the glass rattled close te me teeth.

Aw's nivvor that way when aw'm sober,

Me hearthes a real healthy beat;

An' aw'd nivvor heh suffered this mornin

If aw baddent got tipsy last neet.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

THROO DRINKIN BITTER BEER

TEUN-"Bitter Beer."

SAYS Billy Dunn, "Aw'll ne mair sing

In praise 0' bitter beer,

It's the varry thing te kill us

Aw'm deed noo varry near.

Aw divvent want te dee just yit,

Aw'd like te leeve a eer ;

Aw'm sure aw winnet leeve six munths

If aw drink bitter beer.

Korus

"Oh, lads, tyek nyen on't for fear!

If ye want te commit suicide,

An' like a ghost appear,

Ye'll get the shakes, an' ne mistake,

Throo drinkin bitter beer!

"They gie this stuff a' sorts 0' nyems,

Sum' Edinboro Ale,'

'Scotch Bitter,' an' 'Best Borton,'

An' sum cau'd 'Indian Pale' :

The last nyem may be reet eneuff,

Aw's awful pale an' queer;

Thor'll be varry few fresh-culler d

Throo drinkin bitter beer!

"They say that it 'ill myek ye eat,

But that mun be a lee:

Aw can assure ye the effect's

Quite different wi' me.

Aw've fairly lost me appetite;

Me heed's not varry clear:

An' it's but little that aw tyest

Throo drinkin bitter beer!

"Aw shake as if me varry hands

Diddent belang te me;

Aw feel as if aw cuddent work

Throo gettin on the spree.

Aw trimmil se, they'll not catch me

Ne mair at bitter beer;

Aw knaw aw nivvor feel this way

When aw drink wetter clear! "

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

OOT 0V HIS HEED.

TEUN- "The Bonny Boy in Blue."

THEY'VE teuk young Bobby Jones away

Frae an his frinds se dear;

A canny, quiet lad wes he

Till he got on the beer.

But beer an' spirits did thor wark

Wi' fierce an' cruel speed:

They've sent the poor young fellow wild,

An' clean oot ov his heed.

Korus.

Poor·young Bob! they've tyekin him away

Frae frinds, relations, all he luvs,

For mony a weary day.

Poor young Bob! it's been sad wark for ye,

Throo alcohol te kill yor brain:

Doomed te captivity.

What happy prospects thor appeared

For Bob te pave his way,

An' myek he'sel a divor man,

An' famous on sum day

Not distant, a' the neybors thowt ;

But drink's unfeelin greed

Claimed Bob Jones as its victim, when

It sent him oat his heed.

What will his poor aud muther de?

Thor's nyen te help her noo,

Besides the lass he had te wed,

The lass se gud an' true.

He may recover; but the time

Seems lang, ay, lang indeed,

Te wait till man gets better if

He's once oat ov his heed.

An' drink myeks lots 0' scenes like this,

It fills the madhoose weel;

Thor'd not be many patients there

Withoot it, te conceal

An' keep secure frae busy life,

Wi' minds that cannet think ;

They might nearly close the 'sylum,

If it wassent for the drink.

THE INTENDED SUICIDES.

TEUN-" The Pawnshop Bleezin."

TOM JACKSON an' his wife fell oot,

Byeth drunk an' got mischievous;

Says he, one neet, "Aw'll end me life,

An' that 'ill seun relieve us

Frae such a bitter plague as ye.

Ye've not been a gud wife te me,

This neet aw'll te the river flee,

An' i' the wetter cawd aw'll dee,

Aw'm once for all detarmined!"

Says she, "If ye intend te gan,

Aw'll de the syem as ye, man;

Aw cuddent leeve here be rne-ael,

Unhappy aw wad be, man.

Ye've always been me care an' pride,

Aw'm lost withoot ye be me side.