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Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar

DigiTrad:
ALBERT AND THE LION
ARKANSAS FLYERS
ASPARAGUS.
GOODBYE


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Joe Offer 14 Dec 20 - 06:30 PM
GUEST 14 Dec 20 - 08:42 PM
Mr Happy 14 Dec 20 - 09:11 PM
Steve Gardham 15 Dec 20 - 02:16 PM
Dave the Gnome 16 Dec 20 - 03:56 AM
Joe Offer 16 Dec 20 - 05:53 AM
clueless don 16 Dec 20 - 07:29 AM
Dave the Gnome 16 Dec 20 - 08:32 AM
Long Firm Freddie 16 Dec 20 - 09:28 AM
clueless don 17 Dec 20 - 07:15 AM
GUEST,jag 17 Dec 20 - 01:35 PM
Steve Gardham 17 Dec 20 - 02:03 PM
Joe Offer 17 Dec 20 - 03:34 PM
GUEST,jag 17 Dec 20 - 04:58 PM
Dave the Gnome 18 Dec 20 - 02:08 AM
Joe Offer 26 Apr 21 - 06:45 PM
GUEST,Marriott Edgar 26 Aug 22 - 01:57 PM
GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar 26 Aug 22 - 04:29 PM
Joe Offer 26 Aug 22 - 05:22 PM
GUEST,written by Marriott Edgar 27 Aug 22 - 06:31 AM
GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar 27 Aug 22 - 06:59 AM
GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar 27 Aug 22 - 11:19 AM
GUEST,Bob the Shantyman 28 Aug 22 - 05:45 AM
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Subject: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Dec 20 - 06:30 PM

Marriott Edgar was a prolific author of recitations, but his works are often attributed here to Stanley Holloway and others. I think we need a Marriott Edgar thread.

Monologue John Bartley does a lot of Marriott Edgar recitations. Here's John's YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfBihJ1_0MNCVEsgLg6oCHQ


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST
Date: 14 Dec 20 - 08:42 PM

https://allpoetry.com/Marriott-Edgar


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Mr Happy
Date: 14 Dec 20 - 09:11 PM

Hi again, Joe.

Here's a link to Make 'em Laugh/ Monologues with lots of material from Marriott Edgar et al.

http://www.monologues.co.uk/index2.htm


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Steve Gardham
Date: 15 Dec 20 - 02:16 PM

Specialised in Biblical stories, historical and a character called Sam.

Best known on the English folk scene:
Battle of Hastings,
Magna Charter
Albert and the Lion
Sam and Noah (Three-apence a foot)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Dave the Gnome
Date: 16 Dec 20 - 03:56 AM

I have saved a CD of Stanley Holloway recordings of Edgar Marriot monologues here

Many Happy Returns

Cheers

Dave


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Joe Offer
Date: 16 Dec 20 - 05:53 AM

Oooh! Oooh! Thanks, Dave.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: clueless don
Date: 16 Dec 20 - 07:29 AM

I first became acquainted with Mr. Edgar's work when I was at Cornell in the 70s. John and Tony appeared regularly, and Tony would usually do one of the recitations in a concert. Marvelous stuff!

I've been known to do a few of them myself, at storytelling gatherings. I'm still waiting for someone to object to me, a drawling American, putting on a Yorkshire accent.

Don


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Dave the Gnome
Date: 16 Dec 20 - 08:32 AM

I wouldn't worry about it, Don. Edgar was born in Scotland but of Lancastrian decent. Holloway was born a Londoner and the monologues are usually performed with a Lancashire accent :-D


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Long Firm Freddie
Date: 16 Dec 20 - 09:28 AM

A fine performance from the late Roy Hudd:

Albert and the Lion

LFF


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: clueless don
Date: 17 Dec 20 - 07:15 AM

My apologies - in my message (above), I meant to say a Lancashire accent!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,jag
Date: 17 Dec 20 - 01:35 PM

Steve Gardham said
Best known on the English folk scene:
Battle of Hastings,
Magna Charter
Albert and the Lion
Sam and Noah (Three-apence a foot)


I use to do "Albert and the Lion" on occasions when a 'turn' was required, with "The return of Albert" in reserve if someone else got in first.

Sometime in the 90's someone had a 'quiet word' to the effect that it was no longer regarded as appropriate to put on accents and mock the workers.

Like Mother I got 'proper blazing' and pointed out that it was my own accent and I grew up with among Ramsbottoms of this world who thought it was a hoot.

On reflection I suspect that my challenger was tarring Edgar/Holloway with the same brush as Flanders and Swann (where I would tend to agree with him)


Are Albert and Sam safe with the 'PC' crowd?


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Steve Gardham
Date: 17 Dec 20 - 02:03 PM

I think the PC brigade could have a point. Some of the Albert and Biblical references portray working class people as being very mercenary when it comes to payment, which in itself is laughable when you consider the way the rich and powerful are ripping us off at the moment.


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Subject: ADD: Canute the Great (Marriott Edgar)^^^
From: Joe Offer
Date: 17 Dec 20 - 03:34 PM

Canute the Great

Thread #105613   Message #2175198
Posted By: Susan of DT
20-Oct-07 - 07:35 AM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Canute (Oldham Tinkers)
Subject: Lyr Add: CANUTE THE GREAT (Marriott Edgar)

Also, another song , actually a recitation, about him:

CANUTE THE GREAT
(Marriott Edgar)

I'll tell of Canute, King of England,
A native of Denmark was he,
His hobbies was roving and raiding
And paddling his feet in the sea.

By trade he were what's called a Viking,
Every summer he'd visit our shore,
Help himself to whatever he wanted,
And come back in the autumn for more.

These trips always showed him a profit,
But what stumped him to know was this 'ere...
Where the English folk got all the money,
He came and took off them each year.

After duly considering the matter,
He concluded as how his best course,
Were to have an invasion of England,
And tap the supply at its source.

He got other Vikings to join him,
With a promise of plunder and spoil,
And raked up atrocity stories,
To bring all their blood to the boil.

They landed one morning at Weymouth,
And waited for fight to begin,
While their foe, Ethelred the Unready,
Found his army and got it fell in.

When the battle were done, Crown of England,
Changed heads, so the history book states,
From Ethelred's seven-and-a-quarter,
To King Canutes six-and-five-eights.

The Vikings was cheered as the winners,
Ethelred, he went somewhere and died,
And Canute, to his lasting atonement...
Made the widow, Queen Emma, his bride.

She started to teach him his manners,
To drink without wetting his nose,
Put his hand to his mouth and say "Pardon!",
Every time the occasion arose.

She said his companions was vulgar,
His habits more easy than free,
Made him promise no more to disgrace her,
By paddling his feet in the sea.

At the time this 'ere promise meant nothing,
It were made in the cool of the spring,
But when summer came in with a heat wave,
T' were a totally different thing.

He moved his court down to the seaside,
Where they took off their shoes and their socks,
And rushed to the water and left him,
Alone on his throne on the rocks.

Said one, "Come on King, have a paddle,
I'll look after your sceptre and crown."
He replied, "Nay, I promised the missus,
And I can't let the old... lady down."

"No need to do that," said the Tempter,
"The tide's coming in, as you see;
You promised you wouldn't go to it,
But you can't stop it coming to thee!"

And that's how it happened... that later,
When Emma came over the sands,
She found Canute knee deep in water,
Trying to shush the sea back with his hands.

For not letting on that he'd seen her,
He was chiding each wave as it came,
Saying, "Thus far, my lad, and no further!"
'Til Emma said, "What is this game?"

He replied, These 'ere flatterers told me,
That the sea would obey me, and so,
I'm giving them this demonstration,
To show what a fat lot they know."

"You're doing quite right," shouted Emma,
"It's time someone made them look small!"
Then she took off her shoes and her stockings,
And started to paddle an' all.


@recitation @history @royalty
filename[ CANUTGRT
SOF
Nov07


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,jag
Date: 17 Dec 20 - 04:58 PM

I think it's largely a matter of how it was intended at the time, how it was taken by different audiences at the time, and the same two things now.

Was Sam, stubbornly holding out for three ha'pence a foot from Noah, a working class person being mercenary? An audience of factory workers might see him, a 'joiner and building contractor', as a hard-nosed local businessman.

The characters are comic caricatures and Stanley Holloway voiced the parts to gently poke fun at all of them. The Ramsbottoms (a genuine regional name but maybe one picked for humour) are voiced in a Lancashire accent but the zoo manager is 'mock posh'. In 'The Recumbent Posture' the doctor is poked fun at for using an unnecessary long words, the people who won't admit to ignorance are all shopkeepers and the one with letters after his name sounds pompous but isn't quite right.

I suspect Albert would go down fine in a Lancashire folk club (caricaturing our own) and in Yorkshire (taking the p*ss out of the neighbours). But what would be the perception in Surrey?

I guess my mistake was not knowing my audience.

Albert's stick probably came from the co-op, but that wouldn't scan.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Dave the Gnome
Date: 18 Dec 20 - 02:08 AM

Apropos nothing at all, we pass Ramsbottom on our regular journey from our new home in Yorkshire to our old one in Lancashire. As it is in a valley I always think it is a pity that it was not divided into the lower and upper parts. Then, when asked where they live, some people could reply "Upper Ramsbottom"

:D tG


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Subject: ADD: George and the Dragon (Marriott Edgar)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 26 Apr 21 - 06:45 PM

George And The Dragon
https://verse.press/poem/george-and-the-dragon-8603

George And The Dragon
BY MARRIOTT EDGAR

I'll tell you the tale of an old country pub
As fancied itself up to date,
It had the word " Garage" wrote on t' stable door
And a petrol pump outside the gate.

The " George and the Dragon" were t' name of the pub,
And it stood in a spot wild and bleak,
Where nowt ever seemed to be passing that way
Except Carrier's cart once a week.

The Carrier's cart were a sturdy old Ford
And its driver were known as " Old Joe
He had passed pub each week but he'd never been in,
It's name even he didn't know.

One cold winter night, about quarter to one,
He were driving home over the moor,
And had just reached the pub, when his engine stopped dead
A thing it had ne'er done before.

He lifted the bonnet and fiddled around
And gave her a bit of a crank;
When he looked at his petrol he found what were wrong,
There wasn't a drop in the tank.

He had eight miles to go and 'twere starting to rain,
And he thought he were there for the night,
Till he saw the word " Garage" wrote on t' stable door;
Then he said, " Lizzie, Lass... we're all right."

He went up to t' pub and he hammered at door
Till a voice up above said " Hello!"
It were t' Publican's Wife-she said,
"Now what's to do?", "I've run out of petrol," said Joe.

She said " Who are you? " He said " Carrier Joe."
" Oh, so that's who it is," she replied
You've been passing this door now for close on ten years
And never once set foot inside."

"A nice time of night to come knocking folks up,
She continued. "Away with your truck,
" You'd best get your petrol where you buy your beer...
" You only come here when you re stuck."

Said Joe, "Aye, I'll go if you'll sell me some fuel,
"I can't start my engine without.
"I'm willing to pay." but she told him to go
Where he'd get his fuel for nowt.

"Coom, coom, Lass!" said Joe, conci-latory like,
"Let bygones be bygones, and when
I come round next time I'll look in."
She said, "Oh, Well, your petrol can wait until then."

With these few remarks th' old girl took in her head
And slammed winder to in his face;
He took a look round and for t' very first time
He noticed the name of the place.

He picked up some pebbles he found in the road
And tossed them against winder pane,
And before very long lattice opened above
And out came the old girl again.

What d'ye want? " she enquired. And " Not you," Joe replied,
For this treatment had fair raised his gorge
"I see George and t' Dragon's the name on the house,
"And I'd just like a word now with George."


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Subject: Lyr Add: Asparagus by Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,Marriott Edgar
Date: 26 Aug 22 - 01:57 PM

ASPARAGUS

by
Marriott Edgar
Mr. Ramsbottom went to the races,
A thing as he'd ne'er done before,
And as luck always follers beginners,
Won five pounds, no-less and no-more.

He felt himself suddenly tempted
To indulge in some reckless orgee
So he went to a caffy-a-teerer
And had a dressed crab with his tea.

He were crunching the claws at the finish
And wondering what next he would do,
Then his thoughts turned to home and to Mother,
And what she would say when she knew.

For Mother were dead against racing
And said as she thought 'twere a sin
For people to gamble their money
Unless they were certain to win.

These homely domestic reflections
Seemed to cast quite a gloom on Pa's day
He thought he'd best take home a present
And square up the matter that way.

'Twere a bit of a job to decide on
What best to select for this 'ere,
So he started to look in shop winders
In hopes as he'd get some idea.

He saw some strange stuff in a fruit shop
Like leeks with their nobby ends gone,
It were done up in bundles like firewood-
Said Pa to the Shopman, 'What's yon?'

'That's Ass-paragus-what the Toffs eat'
Were the answer; said Pa, 'That'll suit,
I'd best take a couple of bundles,
For Mother's a bobby for fruit.'

He started off home with his purchase
And pictured Ma all the next week
Eating sparagus fried with her bacon
Or mashed up in bubble-and-squeak.

He knew when she heard he'd been racing
She'd very nigh talk him to death,
So he thought as he'd call in the 'Local'
To strengthen his nerve and his breath.

He had hardly got up to the counter
When a friend of his walked in the bar,
He said 'What ye got in the bundle?'
'A present for Mother,' said Pa.

It's 'sparagus stuff what the Toffs eat'
His friend said 'It's a rum-looking plant,
Can I have the green ends for my rabbits?'
Said Pa, 'Aye, cut off what you want.'

He cut all the tips off one bundle,
Then some more friends arrived one by one,
And all of them seemed to keep rabbits
Pa had no green ends left when they'd done.

When he got home the 'ouse were in darkness,
So he slipped in as sly as a fox,
Laid the 'sparagus on kitchen table
And crept up to bed in his socks.

He got in without waking Mother,
A truly remarkable feat,
And pictured her telling the neighbours
As 'twere 'sparagus... what the toffs eat.

But when he woke up in the morning
It were nigh on a quarter to ten,
There were no signs of Mother, or breakfast
Said Pa, 'What's she done with her-sen?'
He shouted 'What's up theer in t' kitchen?'
She replied, 'You do well to enquire,
Them bundles of chips as you brought home
Is so damp... I can't light the fire.'

Monologue John Bartley: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQkhiGwgKOA


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Subject: Lyr Add: Hole In The Ark
From: GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar
Date: 26 Aug 22 - 04:29 PM

THE 'OLE IN THE ARK by Marriott Edgar

One evening at dusk as Noah stood on his Ark,
Putting green oil in starboard side lamp,
His wife came along and said, 'Noah, summat's wrong,
Our cabin is getting quite damp.

Noah said, 'Is that so?' Then he went down below,
And found it were right what she'd said,
For there on the floor quite a puddle he saw,
It was slopping around under t' bed.

Said he, 'There's an 'ole in the bottom somewhere,
We must find it before we retire.'
Then he thowt for a bit, and he said
'Aye, that's it, A bloodhound is what we require.'

So he went and fetched bloodhound from place where it lay,
'Tween the skunk and the polecat it were,
And as things there below, were a trifle so-so,
It were glad of a breath of fresh air.

They followed the sound as it went sniffing round,
'Til at last they located the leak,
'Twere a small hole in the side, about two inches wide,
Where a swordfish had poked in its beak.

And by gum! how the wet squirted in through that hole,
Well, young Shem who at sums was expert,
Worked it out on his slate that it came at the rate,
Of per gallon, per second, per squirt.

The bloodhound tried hard to keep water in check,
By lapping it up with his tongue,
But it came in so fast through that hole, that at last,
He shoved in his nose for a bung.

The poor faithful hound, he were very near drowned,
They dragged him away none too soon,
For the stream as it rose, pushed its way up his nose,
And blew him up like a balloon.

And then Mrs Noah shoved her elbow in t'hole,
And said,' Eh! it's stopped I believe,'
But they found very soon as she'd altered her tune,
For the water had got up her sleeve.

When she saw as her elbow weren't doing much good,
She said to Noah, 'I've an idea,
You sit on the leak and by t'end of the week,
There's no knowing, the weather may clear.'

Noah didn't think much to this notion, at all,
But reckoned he'd give it a try,
On the 'ole down he flopped, and the leaking all stopped,
And all... except him, was quite dry.

They took him his breakfast and dinner and tea,
As day after day there he sat,
'Til the rain was all passed and they landed at last,
On top side of Mount Ararat.

And that is how Noah got them all safe ashore,
But ever since then, strange to tell,
Them as helped save the Ark has all carried a mark,
Aye, and all their descendants as well.

That's why dog has a cold nose, and ladies cold elbows,
You'll also find if you enquire,
That's why a man takes his coat tails in hand,
And stands with his back to the fire.


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Subject: ADD: Gunner Joe (Marriott Edgar)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 26 Aug 22 - 05:22 PM

Thread #82430   Message #1510570
Posted By: Lanfranc
26-Jun-05 - 06:55 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Songs for Trafalgar Night
Subject: Lyr Add: GUNNER JOE (Marriott Edgar)

Not a song, but a Marriott Edgar monologue

GUNNER JOE

I'll tell you a seafaring story,
Of a lad who won honour and fame
Wi' Nelson at Battle 'Trafalgar,
Joe Moggeridge, that were his name.

He were one of the crew of the Victory,
His job when a battle begun
Was to take cannon balls out o' basket
And shove 'em down front end o' gun.

One day him and Nelson were boxing,
The compass, like sailor lads do.
When 'Ardy comes up wi' a spyglass,
And pointing, says "'Ere, take a screw!"

They looked to were 'Ardy were pointing,
And saw lots o' ships in a row.
Joe says abrupt like but respectful,
"'Oratio lad, yon's the foe."

'What say we attack 'em?' says Nelson,
Says Joe 'Nay lad, not today.'
And 'Ardy says, 'Aye, well let's toss up.'
'Oratio answers 'Okay.'

They tossed... it were heads for attacking,
And tails for t'other way 'bout.
Joe lent them his two-headed penny,
So the answer was never in doubt.

When penny came down 'ead side uppards,
They was in for a do it were plain,
And Joe murmered 'Shiver me timbers.'
And Nelson kissed 'Ardy again.

And then, taking flags out o' locker,
'E strung out a message on high.
'T were all about England and duty,
Crew thought they was 'ung out to dry.

They got the guns ready for action,
And that gave 'em trouble enough.
They 'adn't been fired all the summer,
And touch-holes were bunged up wi' fluff.

Joe's cannon, it weren't 'alf a corker,
The cannon balls went three foot round.
They wasn't no toy balloons either,
They weighed close on sixty-five pound.

Joe, selecting two of the largest,
Was going to load double for luck.
When a hot shot came in thro' the porthole,
And a gunpowder barrel got struck.

By gum! there weren't 'alf an explosion,
The gun crew were filled with alarm.
As out of the porthole went Joseph,
Wi' a cannon ball under each arm.

At that moment up came the 'Boat-swine'
He says 'Where's Joe?' Gunner replied...
'E's taken two cannon balls with 'im,
And gone for a breather outside.'

'Do y' think he'll be long?' said the 'Boat-swine'
The gunner replied, 'If as 'ow,
'E comes back as quick as 'e left us,
'E should be 'ere any time now.

And all this time Joe, treading water,
Was trying 'is 'ardest to float.
'E shouted thro' turmoil of battle,
'Tell someone to lower a boat.'

'E'd come to the top for assistance,
Then down to the bottom he'd go;
This up and down kind of existence,
Made everyone laugh... except Joe.

At last 'e could stand it no longer,
And next time 'e came to the top.
'E said 'If you don't come and save me,
I'll let these 'ere cannon balls drop.'

'T were Nelson at finish who saved him,
And 'e said Joe deserved the V.C.
But finding 'e 'adn't one 'andy,
'E gave Joe an egg for 'is tea.

And after the battle was over,
And vessel was safely in dock.
The sailors all saved up their coupons,
And bought Joe a nice marble clock.

Alan


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Subject: Lyr Add: Runcorn Ferry
From: GUEST,written by Marriott Edgar
Date: 27 Aug 22 - 06:31 AM

Runcorn Ferry       Written by Marriott Edgar   

On the banks of the Mersey, o'er on Cheshire side,
Lies Runcorn that's best known to fame
By Transporter Bridge as takes folks over t'stream,
Or else brings them back across same.
In days afore Transporter Bridge were put up,
A ferryboat lay in the slip,
And old Ted the boatman would row folks across
At per tuppence per person per trip.
Now Runcorn lay over on one side of stream,
And Widnes on t'other side stood,
And, as nobody wanted to go either place,
Well, the trade wasn't any too good.
One evening, to Ted's superlative surprise,
Three customers came into view:
A Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom it were,
And Albert, their little son, too.
"How much for the three?" Mr Ramsbottom asked,
As his hand to his pocket did dip.
Ted said: "Same for three as it would be for one,
Per tuppence per person per trip."
"You're not charging tuppence for that little lad?"
Said Mother, her eyes flashing wild.
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"Per woman, per man, or per child".
"Fivepence for three, that's the most that I'll pay",
Said Father, "Don't waste time in talk".
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"And them, as can't pay, 'as to walk!"
"We can walk, an' all", said Father. "Come Mother,
It's none so deep, weather's quite mild".
So into the water the three of them stepped:
The father, the mother, the child.
The further they paddled, the deeper it got,
But they wouldn't give in, once begun.
In the spirit that's made Lancashire what she is,
They'd sooner be drownded than done.
Very soon, the old people were up to their necks,
And the little lad clean out of sight.
Said Father: "Where's Albert?" And Mother replied:
"I've got hold of his hand, he's all right!"
Well, just at that moment, Pa got an idea
And, floundering back to old Ted, He said:
"We've walked half-way. Come, tak' us the rest
For half-price -- that's a penny a head."
But Ted wasn't standing for none of that there,
And, making an obstinate lip,
"Per tuppence per person per trip", Ted replied,
"Per trip, or per part of per trip".
"All right, then", said Father, "let me tak' the boat,
And I'll pick up the others half-way.
I'll row them across, and I'll bring the boat back,
And thruppence in t'bargain I'll pay".
T'were money for nothing. Ted answered: "Right-ho",
And Father got hold of the sculls.
With the sharp end of boat towards middle of stream,
He were there in a couple of pulls.
He got Mother out -- it were rather a job,
With the water, she weighed half a ton --
Then, pushing the oar down the side of the boat,
Started fishing around for his son.
When poor little Albert came up to the top,
His collars were soggy and limp.
And, with holding his breath at the bottom so long,
His face were as red as a shrimp.
Pa took them across, and he brought the boat back,
And he said to old Ted on the slip:
"Wilt' row me across by me'sen?" Ted said:
"Aye, at per tuppence per person per trip".
When they got t'other side, Father laughed fit to bust.
He'd got best of bargain, you see.
He'd worked it all out, and he'd got his own way,
And he'd paid nobbut fivepence for three!


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Subject: Lyr Add: Sam's Racehorse
From: GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar
Date: 27 Aug 22 - 06:59 AM

SAM'S RACEHORSE by Marriott Edgar

When Sam Small retired from the Army
He'd a pension of ninepence a day,
And seven pounds fourteen and twopence
He'd saved from his rations and pay.

He knew this 'ere wasn't a fortune,
But reckoned with prudence and care
He'd find some investment to save him
From hard work and things like that there.

He thought he'd invest in a race 'orse,
As apart from excitement and fun
He'd be able to sit down in comfort
And live on the money he won.

He knew buying 'orses was tricky,
But that didn't daunt him at all;
He said "They must rise early 't mornin
As wants to play tricks on Sam Small!"

When he called on the local 'Orse-dealer
Surprise rooted him to the spot,
For he found 'twere his old Comp'ny Sergeant,
Whose kindness he'd never forgot.

'Twere a happy reunion on both sides,
Their pleasure at meeting was great,
For each hoped to diddle the other
And wipe a few grudges off slate.

The Sergeant brought out his race 'orses,
For which he asked various sums;
They hadn't a tooth left between them,
But Sam knew their age by their gums.

Sam studied their lines and deportment
As Sergeant were trotting them round,
And told him he reckoned their value
Were fourpence, per race 'orse, per pound.

Now the Sarg. had a filly called Buster
As he hadn't said nothing about,
But when Sam turned his nose up at t'others
He thought as he'd best trot her out.

Sam were struck with her youthful appearance,
Though there wasn't much light in the place,
For her teeth were all pearly and even
And there wasn't a line on her face.

The Sargeant asked Sam twenty guineas
But Sam who was up to his tricks
Pretended the sarge had said shillings
And offered him eighteen and six

At finish he paid eight guineas for her
And when he got home with the goods
He reckoned he'd done none to badly
Cause three of those guineas was duds

But later when he thought it over
A doubt in his mind seemed to creep
If Buster was all she was painted
Why the Sargeant had sold her so cheap

He very soon found out the answer
When he looked at her close in the stalls
For she'd marks where her face had been lifted
And a mouth full of false teeth an all

The little walk home had fatigued her
The cold air had started to cough
He thought he would best see the Sargent
And tell him the bargain was off


The place were locked up when he got there,
And he realized Sergeant had bunked,
So back he went home in a dudgeon
And found Buster lying-defunct.

Sam knew if he wanted to sell her
He mustn't let on she were dead,
So he raffled her down at the Darts Club-
Forty members at five bob a head.

The raffle were highly successful,
They all came in every man jack
And so's winner'd have no cause to grumble
Sam gave him his five shillings back.


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Subject: Lyr Add: George and the Dragon Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,Written by Marriott Edgar
Date: 27 Aug 22 - 11:19 AM

GEORGE AND THE DRAGON by Marriott Edgar

I'll tell you the tale of an old country pub
As fancied itself up to date,
It had the word 'Garage' wrote on t' stable door
And a petrol pump outside the gate.

The George and the Dragon were t'name of the pub,
And it stood in a spot wild and bleak,
Where nowt ever seemed to be passing that way
Except Carrier's cart once a week.

The Carrier's cart were a sturdy old Ford
And its driver were known as 'Old Joe'.
He had passed pub each week but he'd never been in,
It's name even he didn't know.

One cold winter night, about quarter to one,
He were driving home over the moor,
And had just reached the pub, when his engine stopped dead
A thing it had ne'er done before.

He lifted the bonnet and fiddled around
And gave her a bit of a crank;
When he looked at his petrol, he found what were wrong,
There wasn't a drop in the tank.

He had eight miles to go and 'twere starting to rain,
And he thought he were there for the night,
Till he saw the word 'Garage' wrote on t' stable door;
Then he said, 'Lizzie, Lass... we're all right.'

He went up to t' pub and he hammered at door
Till a voice up above said, 'Hello!'
It were t'Publican's Wife, she said,
'Now what's to do?' 'I've run out of petrol,' said Joe.

She said, 'Who are you?' He said, 'Carrier Joe.'
'Oh, so that's who it is,' she replied
You've been passing this door now for close on ten years
And never once set foot inside.'

'A nice time of night to come knocking folks up,
She continued, 'Away with your truck,
'You'd best get your petrol where you buy your beer...
'You only come here when you're stuck.'

Said Joe, 'Aye, I'll go if you'll sell me some fuel,
'I can't start my engine without.
'I'm willing to pay.' but she told him to go
Where he'd get his fuel for nowt.

'Coom, coom, Lass!' said Joe, conci-latory like,
'Let bygones be bygones, and when
I come round next time I'll look in.'
She said, 'Oh, Well, your petrol can wait until then.'

With these few remarks th' old girl took in her head
And slammed winder to in his face;
He took a look round and for t' very first time
He noticed the name of the place.

He picked up some pebbles he found in the road
And tossed them against winder pane,
And before very long lattice opened above
And out came the old girl again.

'What d'ye want?' she enquired. 'Not you,' Joe replied,
For this treatment had fair raised his gorge
'I see George and t'Dragon's the name on the house,
'And I'd just like a word now, with George.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: George and the Dragon Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,Bob the Shantyman
Date: 28 Aug 22 - 05:45 AM

A brilliant little tale that goes well in the telling. With only two characters it creates the opportunity for a "second voice". i voice "The Dragon" quite differently to the narrator or "Old Joe".
It's nice to find a Marriott Edgar monologue with a punchline.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 28 Aug 22 - 09:34 AM

BALBUS by Marriott Edgar

I'll tell you the story of Balbus,
You know, him as builded a wall;
I'll tell you the reason he built it,
And the place where it happened an' all.

This 'ere Balbus, though only a Tackler,
Were the most enterprising of men;
He'd heard Chicken Farms were lucrative,
So he went out and purchased a hen.

'Twere a White Wyandot he called Mabel,
At laying she turned out a peach,
And her eggs being all double-yoked ones
He reckoned they'd fetch twopence each.

When he took them along to the market
And found that the eggs that sold best
Were them as came over from China
He were vexed, but in no ways depressed.

For Balbus, though only a Tackler,
In business were far from a dunce,
So he packed Mabel up in a basket
And started for China at once.

When he got there he took a small holding,
And selecting the sunniest part,
He lifted the lid of the basket
And said 'Come on, lass... make a start!'

The 'en needed no second biddin',
She sat down and started to lay;
She'd been saving up all the way over
And laid sixteen eggs, straight away.

When the Chinamen heard what had happened
Their cheeks went the colour of mud,
They said it were sheer mass production
As had to be nipped in the bud.

They formed themselves in a committee
And tried to arrive at some course
Whereby they could limit the output
Without doing harm to the source.

At the finish they came to t' conclusion
That the easiest road they could take
Were to fill the 'en's nest up wi' scrap-iron
So as fast as she laid eggs they'd break.

When Balbus went out the next morning
To fetch the eggs Mabel had laid
He found nowt but shells and albumen
He were hipped, but in no ways dismayed.

For Balbus, though only a Tackler,
He'd a brain that were fertile and quick
He bought all the scrap-iron in t' district
To stop them repeating the trick.

But next day, to his great consternation
He were met with another reverse,
For instead of old iron they'd used clinker
And the eggs looked the same, or worse.

'Twere a bit of a set-back for Balbus,
But he wasn't downhearted at all,
And when t' Chinamen came round next evening
They found he were building a wall.

'That won't keep us out of your 'en 'ouse'
Said one, with a smug kind of grin;
It's not for that purpose,' said Balbus,
'When it's done, it will keep you lot in.'

The Chinamen all burst out laffing,
They thowt as he'd gone proper daft
But Balbus got on wi' his building
And said 'He laffed last who last laffed.'

Day by day Balbus stuck to his building,
And his efforts he never did cease
Till he'd builded the Great Wall of China
So as Mabel could lay eggs in peace.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 29 Aug 22 - 11:16 AM

Queen Matilda by Marriot Edgar

Henry the first, surnamed "Beauclare,"
Lost his only son William at sea,
So when Henry died it were hard to decide
Who his heir and successor should be.

There were two runners-up for the title;
His daughter Matilda was one,
And the other, a boy, known as Stephen of Blois,
His young sister Adela's son.

Matilda by right should have had it,
Being daughter of him as were dead,
But the folks wasn't keen upon having a queen,
So they went and crowned Stephen instead.


This 'ere were a knockout for Tilda,
The notion she could not absorb
To lose at one blow both the crown and the throne,
To say naught of the sceptre and orb.

So she summoned her friends in t'West Country
From Bristol, Bath, Gloucester and Frome,
And also a lot of relations from Scotland,
Who'd come South and wouldn't go home.

The East Counties rallied round Stephen,
Where his cause had support of the masses,
And his promise of loot brought a lot of recruits
From the more intellectual classes.

The Country were split in two parties
In a manner you'd hardly believe,
The West with a will shouted: "Up with Matilda!"
The East hollered: "Come along, Steve!"


The two armies met up in Yorkshire,
Both leaders the same tactics tried.
To each soldier they gave a big standard to wave,
In hopes they'd impress t 'other side.

It were known as the battle o't Standard,
Though no battling anyone saw,
For with flags in their right hands, the lads couldn't fight,
And the referee called it a draw.

The next time they met were at Lincoln,
Where Stephen were properly beat,
At the end of the scrap he were led off a captive,
With iron balls chained to his feet.

They took him in triumph to Tilda,
Who, assuming an arrogant mien,
Snatched the Crown off his head and indignantly said
"Take your 'at off in front of your Queen!"


So Stephen were put in a dungeon,
While Tilda ascended the throne
And reigned undisturbed for best part of a year,
Till she looked on the job as her own.

But Stephen weren't beat by a long chalk
His plans for escape he soon made,
For he found Tilda's troops were all getting fed up,
Having heard that they wouldn't be paid.

So when Tilda got snowed up at Oxford,
Where she'd taken to staying of late,
She woke one fine morn, to the sound of a horn,
And found Stephen outside her front gate.

Her troops gone, her castle surrounded,
She saw she hadn't a chance,
So, the ground being white, she escaped in her nightie
And caught the next packet for France.

She didn't do badly at finish,
When everything's weighed up and reckoned
For when Stephen was gone the next heir to the throne
Were Matilda's son, Henry the second.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 29 Aug 22 - 11:53 AM

AGGIE THE ELEPHANT Or Little Aggie written by Marriott Edgar

When Joe Dove took his elephants out on the road
He made each one hold fast with his trunk
To the tail of the elephant walking in front
To stop them from doing a bunk.

There were fifteen in all, so 'twere rather a job
To get them linked up in a row,
But once he had fixed 'em Joe knew they'd hold on,
For an elephant never lets go.

The pace it was set by the big 'uns in front,
'Twas surprising how fast they could stride,
And poor little Aggie, the one at the back...
Had to run till she very near died.

They were walking one Sunday from Blackpool to Crewe,
They'd started at break of the day,
Joe followed behind with a bagful of buns
In case they got hungry on t'way.

They travelled along at a rattling good pace
Over moorland and valley and plain,
And poor little Aggie the one at the back
Her trunk fairly creaked with the strain.

They came to a place where the railway crossed road,
An ungated crossing it were,
And they wasn't to know as the express was due
At the moment that they landed there.

They was half way across when Joe saw the express-
It came tearing along up the track-
He tried hard to stop, but it wasn't much good,
For an elephant never turns back.

He saw if he didn't do something at once
The train looked like spoiling his troupe,
So he ran on ahead and he waggled the buns
To show them they'd best hurry up.

When they caught sight of buns they all started to run,
And they soon got across at this gait,
Except poor little Aggie-the one at the back,
She were one second too late.

The express came dashing along at full speed,
And caught her end on, fair and square
She bounced off the buffers, turned head over heels,
And lay with her legs in the air.

Joe thought she were dead when he saw her lyin' there,
With the back of her head on the line
He knelt by her side, put his ear to her chest,
And told her to say " ninety-nine."

She waggled her tail and she twiggled her trunk ;
To show him as she were alive;
She hadn't the strength for to say "Ninety-nine,"
She just managed a weak "Eighty-five."

When driver of th' engine got down from his cab
Joe said "Here's a nice howdedo,
To see fifteen elephants ruined for life
By a clumsy great driver like you."

Said the driver, "There's no need to mak' all this fuss,
There's only one hit as I've seen."
Joe said, "Aye, that's right, but they held on so tight
You've pulled back end off t' other fourteen."

Joe still walks around with his elephant troupe,
He got them patched up at the vet's,
But Aggie won't walk at the back any more,
'Cos an elephant never forgets.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 29 Aug 22 - 12:57 PM

JONAH AND THE GRAMPUS by Marriott Edgar


I'll tell you the story of Jonah,
A really remarkable tale;
A peaceful and humdrum existence he had
Until one day he went for a sail.

The weather were grand when they started,
But later at turn of the tide
The wind started blowing, the water got rough,
And Jonah felt funny inside.

When the ship started pitching and tossing
He tried hard his feelings to smother,
At last he just leant his head over the side
And one thing seemed to bring up another.

When the sailors saw what he were doing
It gave them a bit of a jar;
They didn't mind trippers enjoying theirselves,
But thowt this 'ere were going too far.

Said one "Is there nowt you can think on
To stop you from feelin' so bad?"
And Jonah said "Aye, lift me over the side
And chuck me in, there's a good lad."

The sailor were not one to argue,
He said "Happen you know what's best."
Then he picked Jonah up by the seat of his pants
And chucked him in, as per request.

A Grampus came up at that moment,
And seeing the old man hard set,
It swam to his side and it opened its mouth
And said "Come in lad, out of the wet."

Its manner were kindly and pleading,
as if to say R.S.V.P.
Said Jonah "I've eaten a kipper or two,
But I never thowt one would eat me."

The inside of Grampus surprised him,
'Twere the first time he'd been behind scenes;
He found 'commodation quite ample for one
But it smelled like a tin of sardines.

Then over the sea they went cruising,
And Jonah were filled with delight;
With his eye to the blow-'ole in t'Grampus's head
He watched ships that passed in the night.

"I'm tired of watching," said Jonah,
"I'll rest for a minute or so."
"I'm afraid as you wont find your bed very soft,"
Said the Grampus, "I've got a hard roe."

At that moment up came a whale boat,
Said Jonah, "What's this 'ere we've struck?"
"They're after my blubber," the Grampus replied,
"You'd better 'old tight while I duck."

The water came in through the spy-'ole
And hit Jonah's face a real slosher,
He said, "Shut your blow-'ole!" and Grampus replied
"I can't lad, it needs a new washer."

Jonah tried 'ard to bail out the water,
But found all his efforts in vain,
For as fast as he emptied the slops out through the gills
They came in through the blow 'ole again.

When at finish they came to the surface
Jonah took a look out and he saw
They were stuck on a bit of a sandbank that lay
One rod, pole or perch from the shore.

Said the Grampus, "We're in shallow water,
I've brought you as far as I may;
If you sit on the blow 'ole on top of my head
I'll spout you the rest of the way."

So Jonah obeyed these instructions,
And the Grampus his lungs did expand,
Then blew out a fountain that lifted Jo' up
And carried him safely to land.

There was tears in their eyes when they parted
And each blew a kiss, a real big 'un,
Then the Grampus went off with a swish of it's tail
And Jonah walked back home to Wigan.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 29 Aug 22 - 01:48 PM

Up'ards or Uppards written by Marriott Edgar A parody Henry Wadsworth Longfellows Exelsior

'Twere getting dusk, one winter's night,
When up the clough there came in sight,
A lad who carried through the snow,
A banner with this 'ere motto…
'Uppards'

His face was glum as he did pass,
His eyes were shiny… just like glass,
And as he went upon his way,
He nobbut this 'ere word did say…
'Uppards'

And people sitting down to tea,
They heard him plan, as plain can be,
They thowt 'twere final football score,
As this 'ere word rang out once more…
'Uppards'

A policeman on his lonely beat,
He stopped the lad up t' end of t' street,
He said, "Where't going wi' that theer?"
The lad just whispered in his ear…
'Uppards'

"Don't go down t' clough." the policeman said,
"It's mucky road for thee to tread,
Canal's at bottom… deep and wide."
"That's not my road." the lad replied,
It's… 'Uppards'

A young lass stopped him further up,
She said "Come in wi' me, and sup."
He said, "I'm takin none o' yon,
Besides… I must be getting on…
'Uppards'"

Next day some lads had just begun,
To tak' their whippets for a run,
When dogs got scratching in the snow,
And found flag with this 'ere motto…
'Uppards'

That set them digging all around,
And 'twasn't long before they found,
A lad whose name they never learned,
Whose face was white, whose toes had turned…
'Uppards'

'Twas very plain for to behold,
The lad had ta'en his death o' cold,
He'd got his feet wet early on,
And from his feet the cold had gone…
'Uppards'

This story only goes to show,
That when the fields is white wi' snow,
It's inadvisable to go…
'Uppards'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 05:39 AM

Henry the Seventh written by Marriott Edgar

Henry the Seventh of England wasn't out of the Royal top drawer,
The only connection of which he could boast was King's nephew's brother in law,
T was after the War of the Roses that he came to the front as it were,
When on strength of having Killed Richard the Third he put himself up as his heir.

T was a bit of a blow for the barons when Henry aspired to throne,
And some who'd been nursing imperial hopes started putting out claims of their own,
They didn't get far with their scheming for as soon as the matter was pressed,
A stroke of the pen sent them off to the tower where a stroke of the axe did the rest.

A fellow they called Perkin Warbeck was the one that led Henry a dance,
To make sure nowt awkward should happen to him he worked from an office in France,
He claimed to be one of the princes who had been smothered to death in the tower,
His tale was that only his brother had died and he had escaped the sees over.

Henry knew the appeal of the princes was a strong one for Perkin to make,
He thought he best have a chat with the lad and find out the least he would take,
In reply to his kind invitation Perkin said “he'd be happy to call,
But he'd bring his own escort of ten thousand men and a hundred pipers an all”.

The reply put the king in a passion he swore that he'd stop Perkin's fun,
Then he offered a fortune per annum to him who could tell him how this could be done,
Then up spoke the bold Lambert Simnel the kings private scullion he were,
He said “a word in thy ear'ole o king I've a plan which will stop all this 'ere”.

He took the king up in a corner where noone could hear what they said,
He 'hadn't got far when king started to laugh and he laughed till he had to be bled,
'twas a plan to anticipate Perkin by getting in first with these tales,
Start another rebellion before he arrived and take the wing right out of his sails.

So Lambert Simnel's rebellion made its fateful début in the north,
Experts disagree who he made out to be John the second or Richard the Fourth,
'T was surprising how many believed they flocked to his flag like one man,
For in them days folk would do owt for a change and their motto was San fairy Anne.

'T was quite a success his rebellion till were routed by Henry at Stoke,
And Lambert was taken and made to confess that his parents were working class folk,
The public forgave his deception the thing that made them proper mad,
Were the tuppeny increase on everyone rates to pay for the fun that they'd had.

So when Perkin Warbeck came over expecting his praise to be sung,
He was greeted, defeated, ensheated unseated maltreated and finally hung,
The Baron twent back to his castle the peasant went back to his herd,
Lambert Simnel went back to his scullions job cause Henry went back on his word


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 07:48 AM

WILLIAM RUFUS by Marriott Edgar

The reign of King William the Second
Were an uninteresting affair
There's only two things that's remembered of him
That's his sudden death and his red hair.

He got his red hair from his Mother,
The crown that he wore were his Dad's,
And the arrow that came at the end of his reign
Were a well-deserved gift from the lads.

For William were cunning and cruel,
Addicted to every vice
He'd bluster and perjure and ravage and murder,
Apart from all that... he weren t nice.

He'd two brothers called Robert and Henry,
One older, one younger than he,
And by terms of the Will of old Conqueror Bill
The estate had been split into three.

Thus William became King of England;
And Normandy... that went to Bob;
Young Hal got no throne, but received a cash bonus
Instead of a regular job.

But Bob weren't content with his Dukedom,
And Will weren't content with his throne
Both wanted the lot and each started to plot
How to add t'other share to his own.

Young Hal went from one to the other,
Telling each as be thought he were right,
And mixing the pudding he roused the bad blood in
Them both till they reckoned they'd fight.

So Will got his army together
And planned an invasion of France,
But HaI chanced to find out what Will had in mind
And sent Robert a line in advance.

The result were when Bill crossed the Channel,
Instead of t'surprise that were meant,
He was met on the shore by Duke Bob and his Normans.
And came back as fast as he went.

And later when Bob crossed to England,
Intending to ravage and sack,
It were Henry again who upset the campaign
And t'were Robert this time that went back

After one or two sim'lar debacles
They tumbled to Henry's tricks,
And joined with each other to find their young brother
And take him and knock him for six.

But Henry got wind of their coming,
And made off without more ado
To his fortified pitch on the Isle of St. Michel,
From which he cocked snooks at the two.

When they found things had come to a deadlock
They shook hands and called it a day,
But though Henry pretended that quarrels was ended
He still had a card he could play.

He came back to England with William
And started a whispering campaign
To spoil his prestige with his vassals and lieges
Which whispering wasn't in vain.

For one day when William were hunting
An arrow from somewhere took wing,
And William were shot, falling dead on the spot,
And Henry proclaimed himself King.

So young Henry, who started with nothing,
At the finish held England in thrall,
And as Bob were away with a party Crusading,
He pinched his possessions and all.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 11:16 AM

Canute The Great by Marriot Edgar

                I'll tell of Canute, King of England,
                A native of Denmark was he,
                His hobbies was roving and raiding
                And paddling his feet in the sea.


By trade he were what's called a Viking,
Every summer he'd visit our shore,
Help himself to whatever he wanted,
And come back in the autumn for more.


These trips always showed him a profit,
But what stumped him to know was this 'ere...
Where the English folk got all the money,
He came and took off them each year.


                        After duly considering the matter,
                        He concluded as how his best course,
                        Were to have an invasion of England,
                        And tap the supply at its source.


He got other Vikings to join him,
With a promise of plunder and spoil,
And raked up atrocity stories,
To bring all their blood to the boil.


They landed one morning at Weymouth,
And waited for fight to begin,
While their foe, Ethelred the Unready,
Found his army and got it fell in.


When the battle were done, Crown of England,
Changed heads, so the history book states,
From Ethelred's seven-and-a-quarter,
To King Canutes six-and-five-eights.


The Vikings was cheered as the winners,
Ethelred, he went somewhere and died,
And Canute, to his lasting atonement...
Made the widow, Queen Emma, his bride.
She started to teach him his manners,
To drink without wetting his nose,
Put his hand to his mouth and say "Pardon!",
Every time the occasion arose.


She said his companions was vulgar,
His habits more easy than free,
Made him promise no more to disgrace her,
By paddling his feet in the sea.


At the time this 'ere promise meant nothing,
It were made in the cool of the spring,
But when summer came in with a heat wave,
T' were a totally different thing.


He moved his court down to the seaside,
Where they took off their shoes and their socks,
And rushed to the water and left him,
Alone on his throne on the rocks.


Said one, "Come on King, have a paddle,
I'll look after your sceptre and crown."
He replied, "Nay, I promised the missus,
And I can't let the old... lady down."


"No need to do that," said the Tempter,
"The tide's coming in, as you see;
You promised you wouldn't go to it,
But you can't stop it coming to thee!"


And that's how it happened... that later,
When Emma came over the sands,
She found Canute knee deep in water,
Trying to shush the sea back with his hands.


For not letting on that he'd seen her,
He was chiding each wave as it came,
Saying, "Thus far, my lad, and no further!"
'Til Emma said, "What is this game?"


He replied, These 'ere flatterers told me,
That the sea would obey me, and so,
I'm giving them this demonstration,
To show what a fat lot they know."


"You're doing quite right," shouted Emma,
"It's time someone made them look small!"
Then she took off her shoes and her stockings,
And started to paddle an' all.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 12:15 PM

THE MAGNA CHARTER by Marriott Edgar

You've heard of the Magna Charter
As were signed at the Barons' command
On Runningmead Island in t' middle oft' Thame
By King John, as were known as 'Lack Land'.

Some say it were wrong of the Barons
Their will on the King so to thrust,
But you'll see if you look at both sides of the case
That they had to do something, or bust.

For John, from the moment they crowned him,
Started acting so cunning and sly,
Being King, of course, he couldn't do any wrong,
But, by gum, he'd a proper good try.

He squandered the ratepayer's money,
All their cattle and corn did he take,
'Til there wasn't a morsel of bread in the land,
And folk had to manage on cake.

The way he behaved to young Arthur
Went to show as his feelings was bad;
He tried to get Hubert to poke out his eyes,
Which is no way to treat a young lad.

It were all right him being a tyrant
To vassals and folks of that class,
But he tried on his tricks with the Barons an' all,
And that's where he made a faux pass.

He started bombarding their castles,
And burning them over their head,
'Til there wasn't enough castles left to go round,
And they had to sleep six in a bed.

So they went to the King in a body,
And their spokesman, Fitzwalter by name,
He opened the 'ole in his 'elmet and said,
Concil-latory like, 'What's the game?'

The King starts to shilly and shally,
He sits and he haws and he hums,
'Til the Barons in rage started gnashing their teeth,
And them with no teeth gnashed their gums.

Said Fitz, through the 'ole in his 'elmet,
'It was you as put us in this plight.'
And John having nothing to say to this 'ere
Murmured 'Leave your address and I'll write.'

This angered the gallant Fitzwalter;
He stamped On the floor with his foot,
And were starting to give John a rare ticking off,
When the 'ole in his 'elmet fell shut.

'We'll get him a Magna Charter,'
He said when his face he had freed;
Said the Barons, 'That's right and if one's not enough,
Get a couple and happen they'll breed.'

So they set about making a Charter,
When at finish they'd got it drawn up,
It looked like a paper on cattle disease,
Or the entries for t' Waterloo Cup.

Next day, King John, all unsuspecting,
And having the afternoon free,
To Runningmead Island had taken a boat,
And were having some shrimps for his tea.

He had just pulled the 'ead off a big 'un,
And were pinching its tail with his thumb,
When up came a barge load of Barons, who said,
'We thought you'd be here so we've come.'

When they told him they'd brought Magna Charter,
The King seemed to go kind of limp,
But minding his manners he took off his hat
And said 'Thanks very much, have a shrimp.'

'You'd best sign at once,' said Fitzwalter,
'If you don't, I'll tell thee for a start
The next coronation will happen quite soon,
And you won't be there to take part.'

So they spread Charter out on t' tea table,
And John signed his name like a lamb,
His writing in places was sticky and thick
Through dipping his pen in the jam.

And it's through that there Magna Charter,
As were made by the Barons of old,
That in England today we can do what we like,
So long as we do what we're told.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEe9Mb8ewYM


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 02:11 PM

THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS by Marriott Edgar



I'll tell of the Battle of Hastings,
As happened in days long gone by,
When Duke William became King of England,
And 'Arold got shot in the eye.

It were this way - one day in October
The Duke, who were always a toff
Having no battles on at the moment,
Had given his lads a day off.

They'd all taken boats to go fishing,
When some chap in t' Conqueror's ear
Said 'Let's go and put breeze up the Saxons;'
Said Bill - 'By gum, that's an idea.'

Then turning around to his soldiers,
He lifted his big Norman voice,
Shouting - 'Hands up who's coming to England.'
That was swank 'cos they hadn't no choice.

They started away about tea-time -
The sea was so calm and so still,
And at quarter to ten the next morning
They arrived at a place called Bexhill.

King 'Arold came up as they landed -
His face full of venom and 'ate -
He said 'lf you've come for Regatta
You've got here just six weeks too late.'

At this William rose, cool but 'aughty,
And said 'Give us none of your cheek;
You'd best have your throne re-upholstered,
I'll be wanting to use it next week.'

When 'Arold heard this 'ere defiance,
With rage he turned purple and blue,
And shouted some rude words in Saxon,
To which William answered - 'And you.'

'Twere a beautiful day for a battle;
The Normans set off with a will,
And when both sides was duly assembled,
They tossed for the top of the hill.

King 'Arold he won the advantage,
On the hill-top he took up his stand,
With his knaves and his cads all around him,
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.

The Normans had nowt in their favour,
Their chance of a victory seemed small,
For the slope of the field were against them,
And the wind in their faces an' all.

The kick-off were sharp at two-thirty,
And soon as the whistle had went
Both sides started banging each other
'Til the swineherds could hear them in Kent.

The Saxons had best line of forwards,
Well armed both with buckler and sword -
But the Normans had best combination,
And when half-time came neither had scored.

So the Duke called his cohorts together
And said - 'Let's pretend that we're beat,
Once we get Saxons down on the level
We'll cut off their means of retreat.'

So they ran - and the Saxons ran after,
Just exactly as William had planned,
Leaving 'Arold alone on the hill-top
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.

When the Conqueror saw what had happened,
A bow and an arrow he drew;
He went right up to 'Arold and shot him.
He were off-side, but what could they do?

The Normans turned round in a fury,
And gave back both parry and thrust,
Till the fight were all over bar shouting,
And you couldn't see Saxons for dust.

And after the battle were over
They found 'Arold so stately and grand,
Sitting there with an eye-full of arrow
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Aug 22 - 02:37 PM

THE BURGHERS OF CALAIS by Marriott Edgar


It were after the Battle of Crecy-
The foe all lay dead on the ground-
And King Edward went out with his soldiers
To clean up the places around.

The first place they came to were Calais,
Where t' burghers all stood in a row,
And when Edward told them to surrender
They told Edward where he could go.

Said he, " I'll beleaguer this city,
I'll teach them to flout their new King -
Then he told all his lads to get camp-stools
And sit round the place in a ring.

Now the burghers knew nowt about Crecy-
They laughed when they saw Edward's plan-
And thinking their side were still winning,
They shrugged and said- " San fairy Ann."

But they found at the end of a fortnight
That things wasn't looking so nice,
With nowt going out but the pigeons,
And nowt coming in but the mice.

For the soldiers sat round on their camp-stools,
And never a foot did they stir,
But passed their time doing their knitting,
And crosswords, and things like that there.

The burghers began to get desperate
Wi' t' food supply sinking so low,
For they'd nowt left but dry bread and water,
Or what they called in French "pang" and "oh"

They stuck it all autumn and winter,
But when at last spring came around
They was bothered, bewitched and beleaguered,
And cods' heads was tenpence a pound.

So they hung a white flag on the ramparts
To show they was sick of this 'ere-
And the soldiers, who'd finished their knitting,
All stood up and gave them a cheer.

When King Edward heard they had surrendered
He said to them, in their own tongue,
"You've kept me here all football season,
And twelve of you's got to be hung."

Then up stood the Lord Mayor of Calais,
"I'll make one" he gallantly cried-
Then he called to his friends on the Council
To make up the rest of the side.

When the townspeople heard of the hanging
They rushed in a crowd through the gate-
They was all weeping tears of compassion,
And hoping they wasn't too late.

With ropes round their necks the twelve heroes
Stood proudly awaiting their doom,
Till the hangman at last crooked his finger
And coaxingly said to them-" Come.

At that moment good Queen Phillippa
Ran out of her bower and said-
Oh, do have some mercy, my husband;
Oh don't be so spiteful, dear Ted."

Then down on her knee-joints before them
She flopped, and in accents that rang,
Said, "Please, Edward, just to oblige me,
You can't let these poor burghers hang.

The King was so touched with her pleading,
He lifted his wife by the hand
And he gave her all twelve as a keepsake
And peace again reigned in the land.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 31 Aug 22 - 04:55 AM

THE JUBILEE SOVEREIGN by Marriott Edgar (1937)

On Jubilee Day the Ramsbottoms
Asked all their relations to tea,
Including young Albert's Grandmother -
An awkward old 'party' were she.

She'd seen Queen Victoria's Jubilee
And her wedding to 'Albert the Good'
But got quite upset when young Albert
Asked her how she'd got on in the Flood.

She cast quite a damper on t'party,
But she cheered up a bit after tea
And gave Albert a real golden sov'rin
She'd saved up since last Jubilee.

It had picture of t'Queen on the one side
And her dragon fight on the reverse;
And tasted of camphor and cobwebs
Through being so long in her purse.

Albert cuddled the coin and he kissed it,
And felt the rough edge with his tongue,
For he knew by the look of his father
It wouldn't be his very long.

"Shall I get your money-box, Albert ?"
Said mother, so coaxing and sweet.
But Albert let drop an expression
He must have picked up in the street.

"I'll show you a trick with that sov'rin,"
Said Pa, who were hovering near;
Then he took and pretended to eat it
Then brought it back out of his ear.

This magic filled Albert with wonder,
And before you could say, 'Uncle Dick'
He'd got the coin back from his father
And performed the first part of the trick.

When they saw as he'd swallowed his sov'rin
With excitement his relatives burned,
And each one suggested some process
For getting the money returned.

Some were for fishing with tweezers,
While some were for shaking it out;
If they only got back a few shillings
They said 't would be better than nowt!

They tried holding Albert head downwards,
And giving his back a good thump;
Then 'is uncle who worked for a chemist,
Said, "There's nowt for it but 'stommick' pump."

They hadn't a stomach pump 'andy,
But Pa did the best that he could
With a bicycle pump that he'd borrowed.
But that weren't ha'porth of good'.

At last they took him to a Doctor.
Who looked down his throat through a glass,
And said, "This will need operation,
I fear that he'll 'ave to 'ave gas!"

"How much is this 'ere going to cost us ?"
Said Father, beginning to squirm;
Said the Doctor, "It comes out expensive,
The best gas is eight pence a therm."

"There's my time - four shillings an hour,
You can't do these things in two ticks;
By rights I should charge you a guinea,
But I'll do it for eighteen and six."

"What eighteen and six to get sov'rin ?"
Said Father, "That doesn't sound sense.
I'll tell you what, you best keep Albert,
And give me the odd eighteen pence."

The Doctor concurred this arrangement,
But to this day remains in some doubt
As to whether he's in eighteen shillings,
Or whether he's eighteen pence out.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 31 Aug 22 - 11:28 AM

THE LION AND ALBERT by Marriott Edgar


There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much to the Ocean
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded
In fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.

So, seeking for further amusement
They paid and went into the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big lion called Wallace
His nose were all covered with scars
He lay in a somnolent posture
With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about lions
How they was ferocious and wild
To see Wallace lying so peaceful
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straight 'way the brave little feller
Not showing a morsel of fear
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And shoved it in Wallace's ear.

You could see the lion didn't like it
For giving a kind of a roll
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallowed the little lad 'ole

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence
And didn't know what to do next
Said 'Mother! Yon lions 'et Albert'
And Mother said 'Well, I am vexed!'

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Quite rightly, when all's said and done
Complained to the Animal Keeper
That the lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it
He said, 'What a nasty mishap
Are you sure it's your boy he's eaten?'
Pa said, 'Am I sure? There's his cap!'

The manager had to be sent for
He came and he said 'What's to do?'
Pa said 'Yon lion's 'et Albert
And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'

Then Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller
I think it's a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert
And after we've paid to come in.'

The manager wanted no trouble
He took out his purse right away Saying,
'How much to settle the matter?'
And Pa said, 'What do you usually pay?'

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone
She said, 'No! someone's got to be summonsed!'
So that was decided upon.

Then off they went to the Police Station
In front of the Magistrate chap
They told 'im what happened to Albert
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing
'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she
'What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 31 Aug 22 - 02:44 PM

ALBERT'S RETURN by Marriott Edgar


You've 'eard 'ow young Albert Ramsbottom
At the zoo up at Blackpool one year
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle
Gave a lion a poke in the ear?

The name of the lion was Wallace,
The poke in the ear made 'im wild
And before you could say, "Bob's yer uncle!"
E'd upped and 'e'd swallowed the child.

'E were sorry the moment 'e done it;
With children 'e'd always been chums,
And besides, 'e'd no teeth in his muzzle,
And 'e couldn't chew Albert on't gums.

'E could feel the lad movin' inside 'im
As 'e lay on 'is bed of dried ferns;
And it might 'ave been little lad's birthday-
'E wished 'im such 'appy returns.

But Albert kept kickin' and fightin'...
And Wallace got up, feelin' bad.
Decided 'twere time that 'e started
To stage a comeback for the lad.

Then puttin' 'ead down in one corner,
On 'is front paws 'e started to walk;
And 'e coughed, and 'e sneezed, and 'e gargled
'Till Albert shot out... like a cork!

Now Wallace felt better directly
And 'is figure once more became lean.
But the only difference with Albert
Was 'is face and 'is 'ands were quite clean.

Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
'Ad gone back to their tea, feelin' blue.
Ma said, "I feel down in the mouth, like.
" Pa said, "Aye, I bet Albert does, too."

Said Mother, "It just goes to show yer
That the future is never revealed;
If I'd thowt we was goin' to lose 'im,
I'd 'ave not 'ad 'is boots soled and 'eeled."

"Let's look on the bright side," said Father,
"Wot can't be 'elped must be endured;
Each cloud 'as a silvery lining,
And we did 'ave young Albert insured."

A knock on the door came that moment
As Father these kind words did speak.
'Twas the man from Prudential - 'e'd come for
Their tuppence per person per week.

When Father saw 'oo 'ad been knockin',
'E laughed, and 'e kept laughin' so -
The man said, "'Ere, wot's there to laugh at?"
Pa said, "You'll laugh an' all when you know!"

"Excuse 'im for laughing," said Mother,
"But really, things 'appen so strange
Our Albert's been et by a lion;
You've got to pay us for a change!"

Said the young man from the Prudential,
"Now, come, come, let's understand this...
You don't mean to say that you've lost 'im?"
Pa said, "Oh, no, we know where 'e is!"

When the young man 'ad 'eard all the details,
A purse from 'is pocket he drew
And 'e paid them with interest and bonus
The sum of nine pounds, four and two.

Pa 'ad scarce got 'is 'and on the money
When a face at the window they see
And Mother cried, "Eee, look, it's Albert!"
And Father said, "Aye, it would be."

Albert came in all excited,
And started 'is story to give;
And Pa said, "I'll never trust lions
Again, not as long as I live."

The young man from the Prudential
To pick up the money began
But Father said, "'ere, wait a moment,
Don't be in a 'urry, young man."

Then giving young Albert a shilling,
'E said, "'Ere, pop off back to the zoo;
Get your stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle...
Go and see wot the tigers can do!"


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 01 Sep 22 - 05:24 AM

ALBERT AND THE 'EADSMAN by Marriott Edgar (1937)

On young Albert Ramsbottom's birthday
His parents asked what he'd like most;
He said, "To see Tower of London,
And gaze upon Anne Boleyn's Ghost."

They felt this request were unusual,
And at first to refuse were inclined,
‘Til Pa said, "A trip to t'metrollopse
Might broaden the little lad's mind."

They took 'charrybank' up to London,
And got there at quarter to 'fower',
Then seeing that pubs wasn't open
They went straightaway to the Tower.

They didn't think much to the building,
‘Tweren't what they'd been led to suppose,
And the 'Bad Word' Tower didn't impress ‘em,
They said Blackpool 'ad got one of those.

At last Albert found a Beefeater,
And filled the old chap with alarm
By asking for t'Ghost of Anne Boleyn,
As carried 'er 'ead 'neath 'er arm.

Said Beefeater, "You ought to come Fridays,
If it's Ghost of Anne Boleyn you seek,
Her union now limits her output,
And she only gets one walk a week."

"But", he said, "if it's ghosts that you're after,
There's Lady Jane Grey's to be seen,
She runs around chased by the 'Eadsman
At midnight on th'old Tower Green."

They waited on t'green 'til near midnight,
Then thinking they'd time for a 'sup',
They took out what food they'd brought with them
And waited for t'ghost to turn up.

On first stroke of twelve, up jumped Albert,
His mouth full of cold dripping toast,
With his stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle
He pointed and said, " 'Ere's the Ghost!"

They felt their skins going all goosey
As Lady Jane's Spectre drew near,
And Albert fair swallowed his tonsils
When the 'Eadsman an' all did appear.

The 'Eadsman chased Jane round the grass patch,
They saw his axe flash in the moon,
And seeing as poor lass were 'eadless
They wondered what next he would prune.

He suddenly caught sight of Albert,
As midnight was on its last chime;
As he lifted his axe Father murmurred,
"We'll get the insurance this time."

At that mother rose, taking umbridge;
She said, "Put that cleaver away.
You're not cutting our Albert's 'ead off,
Yon collar were clean on today."

The brave little lad stood undaunted,
'Til the Ghost were within half a pace,
Then taking the toast he were eating,
Slapped it, dripping side down, in Ghost's face.

'Twere a proper set back for the 'Eadsman;
He let out one howl of depair,
Then taking his lady friend with him
He disappeared - just like that there.

When Pa saw the way as they vanished,
He trembled with fear and looked blue,
'Til Ma went and patted his shoulder
And said, "It's alright love, we saw it too."

Some say 'twere the dripping that done it,
From a roast leg of mutton it came,
And as th' 'Eadsman 'ad been a Beefeater,
They reckoned he vanished from shame.

And the round Tower Green from that moment,
They've ne'er seen a sign of a ghost,
But when t'Beefeaters go on night duty
They take slices of cold dripping toast.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,CJB
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 03:46 AM

For some time I’ve been trying to find a short ‘Albert’ monologue in which Mr & Mrs R sends Albert to a girls’ school in Penwortham. He’s kitted out with a school skirt etc. He doesn’t mind the teachers or lessons. But the punch line is that he hated sports “‘cos the showers were cow’d” (cold).


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,CJB
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 03:51 AM

I’ve tried asking on the Lancashire forum on FB and emailed Bob Dobson of the ‘Clattering Clogs’ books. It may have been published as a letter in the EFDSS magazine say around the 1960/70s.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 07:29 AM

MARKSMAN SAM by Marriott Edgar

When Sam Small joined the regiment,
'E were no' but a raw recruit,
And they marched 'im away one wint'ry day,
'Is musket course to shoot.

They woke 'im up at the crack o' dawn,
Wi' many a nudge and shake,
'E were dreaming that t' Sergeant 'ad broke 'is neck,
And 'e didn't want to wake.

Lieutenant Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E talked in a voice like a pound o' plums,
'Is tonsils needed pruning.

'Move to the right by fours,' he said,
Crisp like but most severe,
But Sam didn't know 'is right from 'is left,
So pretended 'e didn't 'ear.

Said Lieutenant, 'Sergeant, take this man's name.'
The Sergeant took out 'is pencil,
'E were getting ashamed o' taking Sam's name,
And were thinking o' cutting a stencil.

Sam carried a musket, a knapsack and coat,
Spare boots that 'e'd managed to wangle,
A 'atchet, a spade... in fact, as Sam said,
'E'd got everything bar t'kitchen mangle.

'March easy men,' Lieutenant cried,
As the musket range grew near,
'March easy me blushing Aunt Fanny,' said Sam,
'What a chance with all this 'ere.'

When they told 'im to fire at five 'undred yards,
Sam nearly 'ad a fit,
For a six foot wall, or the Albert 'All,
Were all 'e were likely to 'it.

'E'd fitted a cork in 'is musket end,
To keep 'is powder dry,
And 'e didn't remember to take it out,
The first time 'e let fly.

'Is gun went off with a kind o' pop,
Where 'is bullet went no-one knew,
But next day they spoke of a tinker's moke,
Being killed by a cork... in Crewe.

At three 'undred yards, Sam shut 'is eyes,
And took a careful aim,
'E failed to score but the marker swore,
And walked away quite lame.

At two 'undred yards, Sam fired so wild,
That the Sergeant feared for 'is skin,
And the lads all cleared int' t' neighbouring field,
And started to dig 'emselves in.

'Ooh, Sergeant! I hear a scraping noise,'
Said Sam, 'What can it be?'
The noise that 'e 'eard were lieutenant Bird,
'Oo were climbing the nearest tree.

'Ooh, Sergeant!' said Sam, 'I've 'it the bull!
What price my shooting now?'
Said the Sergeant, 'A bull? Yer gormless fool,
Yon isn't a bull... it's a cow!'

At fifty yards 'is musket kicked,
And went off with a noise like a blizzard,
And down came a crow looking fair surprised,
With a ram-rod through 'is gizzard.

As 'e loaded 'is musket to fire agen,
Said the Sergeant, 'Don't waste shot!
Yer'd best fix bayonets and charge, my lad,
It's the only chance yer've got.

Sam kept loading 'is gun while the Sergeant spoke,
Till the bullets peeped out of the muzzle,
When all of a sudden it went off bang!
What made it go were a puzzle.

The bullets flew out in a kind of a spray,
And everything round got peppered,
When they counted 'is score... 'e'd got eight bulls eyes,
Four magpies, two lambs and a shepherd.

And the Sergeant for this got a D.C.M.
And the Colonel an O.B.E.
Lieutenant Bird got the D.S.O.
And Sam got... five days C.B.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 08:07 AM

THE RECUMBENT POSTURE by Marriott Edgar


The day after Christmas, young Albert
Were what's called, confined to his bed,
With a tight kind of pain in his stummick
And a light feeling up in his head.

His parents were all in a fluster
When they saw little lad were so sick,
They said, 'Put out your tongue!', When they'd seen it
They said, 'Put it back again - quick!'

Ma made him a basin of gruel,
But that were a move for the worse;
Though the little lad tried hard to eat it,
At the finish he did the reverse.

The pain showed no signs of abating,
So at last they got Doctor to call.
He said it were in the ab-domain
And not in the stummick at all.

He sent up a bottle of physick,
With instructions on t' label to say,
'To be taken in a recumbent posture,
One teaspoon, three times a day.'

As Ma stood there reading the label
Pa started to fidget about.
He said 'Get a teaspoon and dose him,
Before he gets better without.'

'I can manage the teaspoon' said Mother
A look of distress on her face.
'It's this 'ere recumbent posture...
I haven't got one in the place.'

Said Pa, 'What about Mrs Lupton?..
Next door 'ere - you'd better ask her;
A woman who's buried three husbands
Is sure to have one of them there.'

So they went round and asked Mrs Lupton,
'Aye, I know what you mean,' she replied,
'I 'ad one on order for 'Orace,
But poor dear got impatient and died.'

She said, 'You'd best try the Co-Op shop,
They'll have one in stock I dare say;
'Fact I think I saw one in the winder
Last time I was passing that way.'

So round they went to the Co-Op shop,
And at the counter for household supplies;
Pa asked for a recumbent posture
And the shopman said 'Yes sir... what size?'

Said Ma, 'It's for our little Albert,
I don't know what size he would use,
I know he takes thirteen in collars,
And sixes, four fittings, in shoes.'

'If it's little lads size as you're wanting,'
Said the shopman, 'I'm sorry to say,
We nobbut had one in the building,
And that one were sold yesterday.'

He sent them across to a tin-smith,
Who said, 'I know what you've in mind;
If you'll draw me a pattern, I'll make one.'
But Pa'd left his pencil behind.

They tried every shop they could think of,
They walked for two hours by the clock,
And though most places reckoned to keep them,
They'd none of them got one in stock.

The last place they tried was the chemist,
He looked at them both with a frown.
And told them a recumbent posture
Were Latin, and meant lying down.

It means 'Lying down' - put in Latin
Said Father, 'That's just what I thowt.'
Then he picked up a side-glance from Mother,
And pretended he hadn't said nowt.

'They're not dosing my lad with Latin.'
Said Mother, her face looking grim,
'Just plain Castor Oil's all he's getting
And I'm leaving the posture to him.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 11:15 AM

JOE RAMSBOTTOM by Marriott Edgar


Joe Ramsbottom rented a bit of a farm
From its owner, Squire Goslett his name;
And the Gosletts came over with William the First,
And found Ramsbottoms here when they came.

One day Joe were ploughing his three-acre field
When the front of his plough hit a rock,
And on closer inspection o' t' damage he found
As the coulter had snapped wi' the shock.

He'd got a spare coulter at home in his shed,
But that were some distance away,
And he reckoned by t' time he had been there and back
He'd have wasted best part of the day.

The accident 'appened not far from the place
Where the Squire had his sumptuous abode;
He thought he might borrow a coulter from him,
And save going back all that road.

He were going to ask... but he suddenly stopped,
And he said ' Nay-I'd better not call;
He might think it cheek I borrowed from him,
I'd best get my own after all.'

He were going off back when he turned to himself
And said 'That's a gormless idea;
The land you were ploughing belongs to the Squire,
It were 'is rock as caused all this 'ere!'

This 'eartened Joe up, so he set off again,
But he very soon stopped as before,
And he said 'Happen Squire'II have comp'ny to tea,
Nay I'd, better go round to t' back.

Then he answered himself in a manner quite stern
And said 'Here's a nice how-de-do!
You can manage without him when all's said and done,
And where would he be without you?'

Joe knew this were right and he knew it were just,
But he didn't seem happy somehow,
So he said 'Well, there's no harm in paying a call,
And I needn't say owt about plough.'

This suggestion that he were afraid of the Squire
Were most deeply resented by Joe; He said
'Right! I'll show you... I'll go up at once,

At the worst he can only say 'No.'
He said, 'P'raps you think yourself better than me,
Well, I'm telling you straight that you're not
And I don't want your coulter... your plough or your farm,
You can do what you like with the lot.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 11:26 AM

THE FAIR ROSAMOND by Marriott Edgar


You've heard of King Henry II
And the story of how he got fond,
Of one of his customer's daughters,
A lass called, 'The Fair Rosamond'.

'Twere a lovely romance while it lasted,
The course of true love ran serene.
Till some nosey-parkering varlet,
Started carrying tales to the Queen.

The Queen were at first incred-u-lous.
She said "What a tale to invent!"
The King would not stoop to such baseness
At any rate, not during Lent."

But one morning she picked up a doublet
As he'd dropped on his bedroom settee;
It had three golden hairs on the shoulder
And a strong smell of 'Soir de Paree."

She went to the King in a passion
And showed him this evidence clear,
And swore by her distaff and wimple
That she weren't having none of that theer.

She said " If I catch that young woman,
She'll leave no more hairs on your coat-
Her trying to pinch other folks' monarchs-
I'll give her a swim in the moat.

So he took Rosie off to the country,
To an old-fashioned manor of his,
With an "'ampton Court Maze "in the garden
As he kept for occasions like this.

But the Queen wasn't fooled for a moment,
She knew all about Henry's ways;
She slipped off herself the next morning
And secretly watched that there maze.

She were hiding in t 'macaracapa
When Rosie came out for the milk,
And she fixed to her dress as she passed her
The end of a bobbin of silk.

Poor Rosie went back not suspecting
The trail she were leaving behind,
And the Queen slowly followed her gloating
At what she expected to find.

The King he were toasting a muffin,
And Rosie were wetting the tea,
When in walked the Queen her face shining
With a look of malevolent glee.

She'd a basin of poison in one hand,
In the other, a glittering knife
The King kind of goggled a moment,
Then turned and said " Rose... meet the wife!"

The Queen shoved the basin at Rosie,
And held the knife out by its point
It were plain she had no' but two choices,
The soup or a cut off the joint.

The Fair Rosamond begged for mercy.
She said, "What you've heard is not true,
Our friendship were purely platonic."
A yarn which in them days was new.

The King told the same tale as Rosie
And if that's not the truth, Queen," he cried,
May I die on this spot where I'm standing !
As he said it he skipped to one side.

The Queen at the finish believed them,
But to save further messing around,
She packed Rosie off to a Convent
And had the maze burnt to the ground.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 11:41 AM

SAM GOES TO IT by Marriott Edgar


Sam Small had retired from the Army,
In the old Duke of Wellington's time,
So when present unpleasantness started,
He were what you might call... past his prime.

He'd lived for some years in retirement,
And knew nowt of war, if you please,
Till they blasted and bombed his allotment,
And shelled the best part of his peas.

'T were as if bugles called Sam to duty,
For his musket he started to search,
He found it at last in the Hen house,
Buff Orpingtons had it for perch.

Straight off to the Fusilliers' depot,
He went to rejoin his old troop...
Where he found as they couldn't recruit Him,
Until his age group was called up.

Now Sam wasn't getting no younger,
Past the three score and ten years was he,
And he reckoned by time they reached his age group,
He'd be very near ten score and three.

So he took up the matter with Churchill,
Who said, "I don't know what to do,
Never was there a time when so many,
Came asking so much from so few."

"I don't want no favours" Sam answered,
"Don't think as I'm one of that mob,
All I'm asking is give me the tools, lad,
And let me help finish the job."

"I'll fit you in somewhere," said Winnie,
"Old soldiers we must not discard."
Then seeing he'd got his own musket,
He sent him to join the Home Guard.

They gave Sam a coat with no stripes on,
In spite of the service he'd seen,
Which considering he'd been a King's sergeant,
Kind of rankled... you know what I mean.

He said "I come back to the Army,
Expecting my country's thanks,
And the first thing I find when I get here,
Is that I've been reduced to the ranks.

He found all the lads sympathetic,
They agreed that 'twere a disgrace,
Except one old chap in the corner,
With a nutcracker kind of a face.

Said the old fella, "Who do you think you are?
The last to appear on the scene,
And you start off by wanting promotion,
Last come, last served... see what I mean?"

Said Sam, "Wasn't I at Corunna,
And when company commander got shot,
Didn't I lead battalion to victory?"
Said the old fella, "No... you did not."

"I didn't?" said Sam quite indignent,
"Why, in every fight Wellington fought,
Wasn't I at his right hand to guard him?"
Said old chap, "You were nowt of the sort."

"What do you know of Duke and his battles?"
Said Sam, with a whithering look,
Said the old man, "I ought to know something,
Between you and me... I'm the Duke."

And if you should look in any evening,
You'll find them both in the canteen,
Ex Commander-in-Chief and ex Sergeant,
Both just Home Guards... you know what I mean?


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 11:55 AM

RICHARD COUER DE LION by Marriott Edgar

Richard the First, Coeur-de-Lion,
Is a name that we speak of with pride,
Though he only lived six months in England
From his birth to the day that he died.

He spent all his time fighting battles,
Dressed up in most rigid attire,
For he had his suits made by the Blacksmith,
And his underwear knitted of wire.

He married a lady from Flanders,
Berengaria's what they called her;
She turned out a good wife to Richard,
In spite of a name like that there.

For when he came home from his fighting
She'd bandage the wounds in his sconce,
And every time a snake bit him
She'd suck out the poison at once.

In their 'ouse they'd a minstrel called Blondel
To amuse them at t'end of the day'
And the King had but one thing against him...
He had nobbut one tune he could play.

The Queen saw nowt wrong with the number
And would have it again and again,
And when Richard said: "Put a sock in it!"
She'd give 'im a look full of pain.

The King got fed up at the finish,
And were so sick of 'earing it played,
That he packed his spare suit on a wagon
And went off and joined the Crusade.

He got fighting the moment he landed,
And though Saracen lads did their best,
He cut off their heads in such numbers,
That the hatmakers lodged a protest.

The Sultan, whose name were Saladin,
Thought he'd best try this business to stem,
So he rode up to Richard and told him
He mustn't do that there to them.

Said Richard: "Oh! Who's going to stop me?"
Said Saladin: "I will-and quick!"
So the King poked his sword at the Sultan,
Who, in turn, swiped his skimpter at Dick.

They fought all that day without ceasing;
They fought till at last they both saw
That each was a match for the other,
So they chucked it and called it a draw.

As Richard rode home in the moonlight
He heard someone trying to croon,
And there by the roadside stood Blondel,
Still playing his signature tune.

He'd worked out his passage from England
In search of his Master and Lord,
And had swum the last part of the journey
'Cos his tune got 'im thrown overboard.

This meeting filled Richard with panic:
He rode off and never drew rein
Till he got past the Austrian border
And felt he could breathe once again.

He hid in a neighbouring Castle,
But he hadn't been there very long
When one night just outside his window
Stood Blondel, still singing his song.

This 'ere took the heart out of Richard;
He went home dejected and low,
And the very next fight he got into
He were killed without striking a blow.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 12:50 PM

THREE HA'PENCE A FOOT   by Marriott Edgar


I'll tell you an old-fashioned story
That Grandfather used to relate,
Of a joiner and building contractor;
'Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite.

In a shop on the banks of the Irwell,
Old Sam used to follow 'is trade,
In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury;
You know, where black puddings is made.

One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole
Wi' putty, when in thro' the door
Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers;
T'ould chap said 'Good morning, I'm Noah.'

Sam asked Noah what was 'is business,
And t'ould chap went on to remark,
That not liking the look of the weather,
'E were thinking of building an Ark.

'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks,
And all t'other shipbuilding junk,
And wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple
To panel the side of 'is bunk.

Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly;
That means it were all 'is to cut,
And nobody else 'adn't got none;
So 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot.

'A ha'penny too much,' replied Noah '
A Penny a foot's more the mark;
A penny a foot, and when t'rain comes,
I'll give you a ride in me Ark.'

But neither would budge in the bargain;
The whole daft thing were kind of a jam,
So Sam put 'is tongue out at Noah,
And Noah made Long Bacon* at Sam

In wrath and ill-feeling they parted,
Not knowing when they'd meet again,
And Sam had forgot all about it,
'Til one day it started to rain.

It rained and it rained for a fortni't,
And flooded the 'ole countryside.
It rained and it kept' on raining,
'Til the Irwell were fifty mile wide.

The 'ouses were soon under water,
And folks to the roof 'ad to climb.
They said 'twas the rottenest summer
That Bury 'ad 'ad for some time.

The rain showed no sign of abating,
And water rose hour by hour,
'Til the only dry land were at Blackpool,
And that were on top of the Tower.

So Sam started swimming to Blackpool;
It took 'im best part of a week.
'Is clothes were wet through when 'e got there,
And 'is boots were beginning to leak.

'E stood to 'is watch-chain in water,
On Tower top, just before dark,
When who should come sailing towards 'im
But old Noah, steering 'is Ark.

They stared at each other in silence,
'Til Ark were alongside, all but,
Then Noah said: 'What price yer Maple?'
Sam answered 'Three ha'pence a foot.'

Noah said 'Nay; I'll make thee an offer,
The same as I did t'other day.
A penny a foot and a free ride.
Now, come on, lad, what does tha say?'

'Three ha'pence a foot,' came the answer.
So Noah 'is sail 'ad to hoist,
And sailed off again in a dudgeon,
While Sam stood determined, but moist.

Noah cruised around, flying 'is pigeons,
'Til fortieth day of the wet,
And on 'is way back, passing Blackpool,
'E saw old Sam standing there yet.

'Is chin just stuck out of the water;
A comical figure 'e cut,
Noah said: 'Now what's the price of yer Maple?'
Sam answered, 'Three ha'pence a foot.'
Said Noah: 'Ye'd best take my offer;
It's last time I'll be hereabout;
And if water comes half an inch higher,
I'll happen get Maple for nowt.'

'Three ha'pence a foot it'll cost yer,
And as fer me,' Sam said, 'don't fret.
The sky's took a turn since this morning;
I think it'll brighten up yet.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 12:58 PM

SAM'S CHRISTMAS PUDDING by Marriott Edgar

It was Christmas Day in the trenches
In Spain in Penninsular War,
And Sam Small were cleaning his musket
A thing as he'd ne're done before.

They'd had 'em inspected that morning
And Sam had got into disgrace,
For when sergeant had looked down the barrel
A sparrow flew out in his face.

The sergeant reported the matter
To Lieutenant Bird then and there.
Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'
The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'

The Duke were upset when he heard
He said, 'I'm astonished, I am.
I must make a most drastic example
There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'

When Sam were informed of his sentence
Surprise, rooted him to the spot.
'Twas much worse than he had expected,
He thought as he'd only be shot.

And so he sat cleaning his musket
And polishing barrel and butt.
While the pudding his mother had sent him,
Lay there in the mud at his foot.

Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding
Ran around a place called Badajoz.
Where the Spaniards had put up a bastion
And ooh...! what a bastion it was.

They pounded away all the morning
With canister, grape shot and ball.
But the face of the bastion defied them,
They made no impression at all.

They started again after dinner
Bombarding as hard as they could.
And the Duke brought his own private cannon
But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.

The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy musket
And help me lay this gun true.'
Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your favours
From them as you give pudding to.'

The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful
'And don't take it that way,' said he.
'Us Generals have got to be ruthless
It hurts me more than it did thee.'

Sam sniffed at these words kind of sceptic,
Then looked down the Duke's private gun.
And said 'We'd best put in two charges,
We'll never bust bastion with one.'

He tipped cannon ball out of muzzle
He took out the wadding and all.
He filled barrel chock full of powder,
Then picked up and replaced the ball.

He took a good aim at the bastion
Then said 'Right-o, Duke, let her fly.'
The cannon nigh jumped off her trunnions,
And up went the bastion, sky high.

The Duke, he weren't 'alf elated
He danced around trench full of glee.
And said, 'Sam, for this gallant action.
You can hot up your pudding for tea.'

Sam looked 'round to pick up his pudding
But it wasn't there, nowhere about.
In the place where he thought he had left it,
Lay the cannon ball he'd just tipped out.

Sam saw in a flash what 'ad happened:
By an unprecedented mishap.
The pudding his mother had sent him,
Had blown Badajoz off map.

That's why fusilliers wear, to this moment,
A badge which they think's a grenade.
But they're wrong... it's a brass reproduction,
Of the pudding Sam's mother once made.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 01:38 PM

Goalkeeper Joe written by Marriott Edgar

Joe Dunn were a bobby for football
He gave all his time to that sport,
He played for the West Wigan Whippets,
On days when they turned out one short.

He'd been member of club for three seasons
And had grumbled again and again,
Cos he found only time that they'd used him,
Were when it were pouring with rain!

He felt as his talents were wasted
When each week his job seemed to be
No but minding the clothes for the others
And chucking clods at referee!

So next time selection committee
Came round to ask him for his sub
He told them if they didn't play him,
He'd transfer to some other club.

Committee they coaxed and cudgelled him
But found he'd have none of their shifts
So they promised to play him next weekend
In match against Todmorden Swifts.

This match were the plum of the season
An annual fixture it stood,
'T were reckoned as good as a cup tie
By them as liked plenty of blood!

The day of the match dawned in splendour
A beautiful morning it were
With a fog drifting up from the brick fields
And a drizzle of rain in the air.

The Whippets made Joe their goalkeeper
A thing as weren't wanted at all
For they knew once battle had started
They'd have no time to mess with the ball!

Joe stood by the goal posts and shivered
While the fog round his legs seemed to creep
'Til feeling neglected and lonely
He leant back and went fast asleep.

Selection committee calls on Joe
He dreamt he were playing at Wembley
And t'roar of a thundering cheer
He were kicking a goal for the Whippets
When he woke with a clout in his ear!

He found 'twere the ball that had struck him
And inside the net there it lay
But as no one had seen this 'ere 'appen
He punted it back into play!

'Twere the first ball he'd punted in anger
His feelings he couldn't restrain
Forgetting as he were goalkeeper
He ran out and kicked it again!


Then after the ball like a rabbit
He rushed down the field full of pride
He reckoned if nobody stopped him
Then 'appen he'd score for his side.

'Alf way down he bumped into his captain
Who weren't going to let him go by
But Joe, like Horatio Nelson
Put a fist to the Captain's blind eye!

On he went 'til the goal lay before him
Then stopping to get himself set
He steadied the ball, and then kicked it
And landed it right in the net!

The first time he'd punted the ball
T'was his own goal he'd put the ball through
The fog seemed to lift at that moment
And all eyes were turned on the lad
The Whippets seemed kind of dumbfounded
While the Swifts started cheering like mad!

'Twere his own goal as he'd kicked the ball through
He'd scored for his foes 'gainst his friends
For he'd slept through the referee's whistle
And at half time he hadn't changed ends!

Joe was transferred from the West Wigan Whippets
To the Todmorden Swifts, where you'll see
Still minding the clothes for the others
And chucking clods at referee!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GUEST,SB666
Date: 02 Sep 22 - 03:00 PM

What about Sam in the Whorehouse?


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Monologue John
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 06:01 AM

The are some of the YouTubes of Marriott Edgar Monologues
Balbus https://youtu.be/YLBFpDcWoTg


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Subject: Lyr Add: Albert and the 'Eadsman
From: Monologue John
Date: 24 Oct 22 - 03:28 PM

Albert And The Headsman
ALBERT AND THE 'EADSMAN by Marriott Edgar (1937)

On young Albert Ramsbottom's birthday
His parents asked what he'd like most;
He said, "To see Tower of London,
And gaze upon Anne Boleyn's Ghost."

They felt this request were unusual,
And at first to refuse were inclined,
‘Til Pa said, "A trip to t'metrollopse
Might broaden the little lad's mind."

They took 'charrybank' up to London,
And got there at quarter to 'fower',
Then seeing that pubs wasn't open
They went straightaway to the Tower.

They didn't think much to the building,
‘Tweren't what they'd been led to suppose,
And the 'Bad Word' Tower didn't impress ‘em,
They said Blackpool 'ad got one of those.

At last Albert found a Beefeater,
And filled the old chap with alarm
By asking for t'Ghost of Anne Boleyn,
As carried 'er 'ead 'neath 'er arm.

Said Beefeater, "You ought to come Fridays,
If it's Ghost of Anne Boleyn you seek,
Her union now limits her output,
And she only gets one walk a week."

"But", he said, "if it's ghosts that you're after,
There's Lady Jane Grey's to be seen,
She runs around chased by the 'Eadsman
At midnight on th'old Tower Green."

They waited on t'green 'til near midnight,
Then thinking they'd time for a 'sup',
They took out what food they'd brought with them
And waited for t'ghost to turn up.

On first stroke of twelve, up jumped Albert,
His mouth full of cold dripping toast,
With his stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle
He pointed and said, " 'Ere's the Ghost!"

They felt their skins going all goosey
As Lady Jane's Spectre drew near,
And Albert fair swallowed his tonsils
When the 'Eadsman an' all did appear.

The 'Eadsman chased Jane round the grass patch,
They saw his axe flash in the moon,
And seeing as poor lass were 'eadless
They wondered what next he would prune.

He suddenly caught sight of Albert,
As midnight was on its last chime;
As he lifted his axe Father murmurred,
"We'll get the insurance this time."

At that mother rose, taking umbridge;
She said, "Put that cleaver away.
You're not cutting our Albert's 'ead off,
Yon collar were clean on today."

The brave little lad stood undaunted,
'Til the Ghost were within half a pace,
Then taking the toast he were eating,
Slapped it, dripping side down, in Ghost's face.

'Twere a proper set back for the 'Eadsman;
He let out one howl of depair,
Then taking his lady friend with him
He disappeared - just like that there.

When Pa saw the way as they vanished,
He trembled with fear and looked blue,
'Til Ma went and patted his shoulder
And said, "It's alright love, we saw it too."

Some say 'twere the dripping that done it,
From a roast leg of mutton it came,
And as th' 'Eadsman 'ad been a Beefeater,
They reckoned he vanished from shame.

And the round Tower Green from that moment,
They've ne'er seen a sign of a ghost,
But when t'Beefeaters go on night duty
They take slices of cold dripping toast.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: Tunesmith
Date: 27 Oct 22 - 02:43 AM

In my early folk club days on Merseyside in the mid-60s, there was a singer/guitarist called John Kanneen. He was terrific, and he used to do the Marriott Edgar monologues. I was particularly taken by the historical, or should be hysterical, ones. John used to deliver them in a animated manner. Although it's over 50yrs since I heard John and those monologues I bet that could recite my favourites by heart.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitations from Marriott Edgar
From: GeoffLawes
Date: 27 Oct 22 - 01:12 PM

List of Marriott Edgar monologues on Wikipedia     https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marriott_Edgar#Monologues


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