Lyr Add: Tanfield Braike

Subject: Tanfield Braike
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 15 Apr 02 - 11:20 AM

Tanfield Braike

Twis in the munth if Awgist, in hitenteen sixty-nine,
Aw thowt thit aw wid hev e ride, th' mornen wis se fine;
So aw catch't th' braik it Tanfield, before it went eway, Te hev e
Ride inte th' toon, just te spend th' day.

Chorus

Oh! Dear, oh! Ye shud'ard them shoot,
Aud Bessy Ferguson dabb'd ipon hor snoot;
Nan Smith wis lyen on the top e' Meggy Waik,
She sais sh'll not forget th' day th' wheel cum off the braik

We set away fra Tanfield before he gat his lode,
But thore wis plenty waiting' for him ipon the rode;
Wi' men fokes en women fokes, th' braik wis nearly fill'd,
We adin't getten far eway, te we wor nearly kill'd.

Thare wis fowerteen that day drivon off thor crack—
Bill Car, Jack Car, Graim, en Coffee Jack;
Th' wumen fokes wis tauken eboot baicon being' se cheep,
Wen aul it once th' wheel cum off, en cowpt is aul iv e heep.

Wen Coffee jack fell te th' ground he started for te sweer,
Is seum is he cud speek, he shooted, What's th' mattor heer?
Graim wis lyen speechless, on Coffee lost hees hat,
En if he adin't  fund it he wis gan to rib aud Mat.

'Twas ard to see th' wumen fokes e ganen te th' toon—
One shoots, Aw've lost me hat, enuther rove hor goon;
That's nowt for ye to tauk eboot, aw's warse than that mesel.
Sais Janey Wood, Aw've lost me porse, en smash't me umborel.

Aw felt for Nanny Wilkinson, she gat e nasty crack,
Jack Car fell cross-leg'd reet on Nanny's back;
That wis accidental, but he dorty'd aul her goon,
If thae and't got th' weel put on , she wad ridden im te th' toon.

Th' drivor lost hees senses, en didden't naw ware te gan,
So e euk 'ad e Coffee's heed, en shoots wo oi maw man;
Coffee struck oot we th' left, he appined te miss hees mark,
En muaid th' blud flee fres th' snoot e poor aud Bessy Clark.

Coffee sais, Let's drive away, jump in en tuaik yor seet.
Graim sais We cannit gan until th' wheel's put reet.
Coffee sais, It's  nonsense; aw'll tell ye wat te dee;
Put th' lowse wheel in th' braik, en gan te th' toon we three.

We sent away for Stoker, he lived at Sunnyside,
We had te get th' wheel put on before we gat e ride;
He wasn't lang e putint reet, en then we set sway,
We brokin ribs en flatten'd snoots, we spent e jolly day.

Spoken- Th' time th' blacksmith was putton th' wheel, aw pickt up fower young pillas.  Aw thowt thae wor bags e sawdust.  Coffee sais: Tommy, them's Bussils. Aw thowt, for cureosity, aw wad open e one oot en see that wish inside-proper paunshop.  Aw gat a foweer hippens, e bairn's slipper, e gimlick, e black leed brush, shoo horn, a pair e stockens, en Aud Moor's Alminack, so aw tied them up, en we aul began to sing th' korus.

One Good Source:Polisses & Candymen, The Complete Works of Tommy Armstrong, The Pitman Poet,  ed. Ross Forbes, TommyArmstrong Memorial Trust, 1987.