Englishman, Scotchman and Irishman

Unpublished song collected by Alfred Williams

(WSRO: 2598/36 Packet 5 - Miscellaneous: Williams, A: MS collection No Mi 562)


Verse 1

An Englishman, an Irishman, a Scotchman too, one day
Were walking out together and one of them did say –
'We're all so very hungry, and I see on yonder hill
A flock of sheep a-feeding boys, it's one of them we'll kill.'

Verse 2

The notion being agreed upon, to the field they went together,
And from the flock a-grazing they chose a fine fat wether;
One held its head and one its legs, while, from underneath his coat,
Pat drew his knife out of the sheath and cut the poor brute's throat.

Verse 3

Then straightway one took off its skin and hung it on a briar,
Another gathered twigs of wood and kindled up a fire,
But the farmer he came riding by, and had them sent to prison,
For stealing his fat wether and for cutting off its wizen.

Verse 4

Next day before the learned judge the prisoners he took;
With gown and wig his worship sat, a turning of his book,
Said he – 'Tis a case for hanging,' and put the black cap on his head,
Saying – 'John Bull, Pat and Sandy, you shall hang until you're dead.

Verse 5

But I'll be merciful to you, since you have not long to live,
I'll set the law's strict rules aside and this favour I will give,
To choose your place for hanging, since you are so far from home,
So anywhere you like to name you shall be all welcome.'

Verse 6

Then the Englishman spoke – 'I'll choose the old oak, the pride of our native land,
On a high oak tree you may hang me since us you are going to disband.'
'All right,' says the judge, 'Away you can trudge and sorry I am to see you such a glutton
You all had your fill and the sheep did kill, so dearly you pay for your mutton.'

Verse 7

Then up spoke bold Sandy, of Scotland h spoke –
'On Scotland's high mountain let my neck be broke!
Let me breathe my last moments in an air pure and free!
Give me one pinch of snuff and in peace I will dee.'

Verse 8

'All right,' says the judge, 'This favour I'll grant,
Now take him away and don't let him snuff want.
Let him breathe his last moments in air pure and free!'
They did, and in ten minutes up went poor Scottee.

Verse 9

'Mush Gad!' then says Paddy, 'If I'm after dying,
O on a gooseberry bush I would like to be strung.'
'Oh, no,' the judge answered, this bold Paddy eyeing,
'There's never one high enough for you to be hung.'

Verse 10

'Hold hard!' then says Paddy, 'don't be in a flurry,
There's not one high enough everyone knows,
But as for the hanging, sure, Pat's in no hurry,
If it pleases your worship, I'll wait till one grows.'