Checked Hnederson and Holloway and Black thoroughly last night
Apart from the half dozen I put markers in, which I hope to be able to list later, every single one of them you have listed here are poorly written and false-sounding songs
From my selection, two of the songs are identified as being of Irish origin, on from the Joyce Collection
I've taken four of your list from volume 2, Holloway and Black, numerically selected, which you claim to be singable songs
They are all, in my opinion, false in conception, and crude in poetic style - doggerel - typical of the broadside output
At a glance, I find most of the others on your list are more or less of the same quality, but I'll go though them in more detail later
Compared to the smoothness and reality of our folksongs - dry, tasteless chalk to rich, satisfying cheese
You have done yourself no favour in suggesting that these suggest that folksongs and compositions such as these come from the same stable
I have left the editor's note to the last song in - that sums up y feelings on the vast majority of broadside compositions (though many lack the mentioned charm!)
You claimed that you have produced a list such as this from Holloway and Black - this is the first time I have ever seen such a list
Can you link me to your past lists please
Jim Carroll
Incidentally - my point is about the singability of these songs - if you consider songs mocking dumb people - both inhuman, and in this case, extremely sexist - singable, we come from different worlds

19
The Pretty Chambermaid
Printed byJ. Catnach, 2 Monmouth-court, 7 Dials. Sold by Bennett, Brighton

Not far from town a country squire,
An open hearted blade;
Had long conceived a strong desire,
To kiss his chambermaid.

One summer's noon, quite full of glee,
He led her to a shade,
And all beneath a mulberry tree,
He kiss'd his chambermaid.

The parsons spouse from window high
This armorous pair survey'd;
And softly wish'd, none can deny,
She'd been the chambermaid:

When all was o'er, poor Betty cry'd,
Kind sir I'm much afraid,
That woman there, will tell your bride,
You've kiss'd your chambermaid.

The squire conceiv'd a lucky thought
That she might not upbraid;
And instantly the lady brought,
Where he had kiss'd his maid:

Then all beneath the mulberry tree,
Her ladyship was laid;
And three times three well kiss'd was she
Like to the chambermaid.

Next morning came the parson's wife,
For scandal was her trade;
I saw your squire, ma'am, on my life,
Great with your chambermaid.

When, cry'd my lady, where, and how,
I'll soon discharge the jade;
Beneath the mulberry tree, I vow,
He kiss'd your chambermaid.

This falsehood, cry'd her ladyship,
Shall not my spouse degrade;
'Twas I chanc'd there to make a slip,
And not my chambermaid.

Both parties parted in a pet,
Not trusting what was said;
And Betty keeps her service yet,
That pretty chambermaid.

24
Improbability, Or, A Batchelor's Dislike to a Married Life
Printed and Sold by. Pitts, 14, Great st. Andrew Street, 7 Dials

As I was a walking in a grove,
All by myself as I suppos'd.
My mind did oft times me remove,
But by no means could be composed,
At length by chance a friend I met,
Which caused me long time tarry,
And oft of me she did intreat,
To tell her when I had a mind to marry.

When saffron grows on every tree,
And every stream flows milk and honey,
When sugar grows in carrot fields.
And usurers refuses money.
And countrymen forjudges sit,
And Michaelmas falls in February.
When millers do their toil forget,
O then my love and I'll be married.

When Shrovetide falls in Easter week,
And Christmas in the month of July,
When lawyers plead without a fee,
And taylors they deal just and truly,
When all deceit is quite put down,
And truth by all men is preferr'd,
When Indigo dies red and brown,
O then my love and I'll be married.

When men and beasts the ocean plough,
And fishes in green fields are feeding.
When cockle shells in the streets do grow,
And swarms upon dry banks are breeding,
When muscle shells for diamond rings,
And glass to gold may be compar'd
When gold is made of grey goose wings,
O then my love and I'll be married.

When women know not how to scold,
And Dutchmen leave off drinking brandy,
When cats do bark and dogs do mew,
And brimstone's took for sugar candy,
When Whitsuntide it does fall,
All in the month of January,
When coblers work without an awl
O then my love and I'll be married.

When candlesticks do serve for bells.
And frying pans do serve for ladles,
And in the seas they dig for wells,
And porridge pots do serve for cradles,
When all maids prove true to their lives,
And a man on his back an ox can carry,
And when the mice with the cat do play,
O then my love and I'll be married.

36
The Astrologer
Printed for and sold by J. Pitts, No. 14, Great Saint Andrew Street Seven Dials

There was an old astrologer in London who did dwell,
For telling of girls fortunes there was none could him excel,
There was a girl among the rest to this old man would go,
And for to have her fortune told much she did to know. [?wish

Amongst the rest a brisk young maid there went
And for to have her fortune told it was her intent,
She asked for this cunning man, answer was made she,
He is up stairs in his chamber, pray call him down, said she.

And when that he came down, she thus to him did say,
I hear you can tell fortunes, can you tell mine I pray'
And if that you tell me truly, I'l pay you well says she,
No question but I can, fair maid, come walk up stairs with me.

No I'll not walk up stairs with you nor any man indeed,
She spoke with so much modesty as if she'd been a maid
I am in haste, she said, and thought not to have staid,
Pray be as nimble as you can, for I am a servant maid.

O then he stood and paus'd awhile, a scheme began to rise,
Then he boldly answer'd her, and made her this reply.
You say you are a servant, I am sure you are no maid,
It is time, sweetheart you were wed for you have wanton play'd.

O then she blush'd with shame at hearing him say so,
For that he spoke the truth she very well did know,
Deny it not, says he, I know it to be so,
For you did lie with your master not many nights ago.

She stampt, and swore her master she would bring,
To witness for himself and her that it was no such thing,
To lie and curse it makes your case the worse,
For I know he gave to you a crown, you have it in your purse.

She finding him so positive, she could not him deny.
Then she boldly answer'd him, and made him this reply
Indeed, kind sir I am a maid, and hope so to remain,
'Tis true he had my maidenhead, but give it me again.

50
The Sheep Shearers
Printed and Sold byJ. Pitts, 6, Great St. Andrew Street, 7 Dials

There's the rose bud in June & violets blow
And the small birds they warble on every bough,
There's the pink and the lilly the daffy down dilly
To adorn and perfume there's the rose bud in June.

We'll all hold the plough the fat oxen draws low
While our lads and our lasses a sheep shearing do go.

When the shepherds have shorn their jolly fat fleece.
What joys can compare when he talks of increase
Each lad takes his lass gently on the green grass,
To adorn and perfume, there's the rose bud in June.
We will, &c.

There is our clean milk pails which foams with good ale,
At our table where plenty be found,
We whistle and sing and we dance in a ring
To adorn & perfume the sweet meadows in June
We will, &c.

Now sheep shearing's over and harvest it draws nigh,
We'll prepare for the fields our strengths for to try
We'll reap and then mow, then we'd plough and then sow,
To adorn and perfume the sweet meadows in June.
We will, &c.

Now our barns they are full and our fields they are bare,
We must thrash for the market and our ground we must till,
We must reap and then mow, next plough, and then sow
To adorn and perfume till June does return.
We will, &c.

Editor's note
"Doubtless a stage piece: charming, but not to be recommended for realism"