Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Steve Gardham
Date: 07 Jul 10 - 06:05 AM

Sminky/Rob,
There appears to be a different 'Morgan Rattler' on broadsides. It's called 'Morgan Rattler, or Darby O'Gollicher, has 4 double verses and first line 'Great boasting of late I've heard of a feat'. It is sometimes just called 'Darby O'Gallagher' and dates from about 1800.
there's a copy in the Madden Collection. It's possible MR was one of those generic names for a comic bumpkin figure.

Well done with the posting. Some interesting stuff.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 21 Jun 10 - 05:17 AM

MY WIFE WOULD HAVE HER WAY

TUNE:- "Kitty Jones."

  When I to manhood had arrived, and sick of toil and strife;
  As I were my own master, I resolved to take a wife;
  So Patty Martin I espied a milking of her cow,
  Then stept up boldly to her, and I made to her my vows,
  I ax'd her very kindly if to me she would be wed?
  With blushes - "Why Ize no objection, Measter Ralph," she said,
  "If you'll consent to what I wish, we'll name the wedding day."
  Says I, "what bee'st?" why, says she - "just to let me have my way."
  
  I thought this very moderate, so gave her my consent,
  The banns put up - I bought the ring, and to the church we went;
  And on our wedding day, Oh dear, we'd every thing so pat,
  With beef and pudding, pipes and yale, and bacon nice and fat.
  But how I stared to see my wife the yale put out of sight,
  And then she ax'd the ploughman just to stop with us all night;
  They both together went to bed - I at the foot did lay,
  But I zaid nought, acause I thought, I'd just let her have her way.
  
  Next morning she made me get up, as we had just been wed.
  And give the ploughman and herself some breakfast hot in bed;
  He stow'd the rolls and eggs away, and coffee too, like fun,
  And she'd not let me touch a mite, until they both were done.
  Then he arose and made to me  a very genteel bow,
  They both walked out, came home at night as drunk as David's sow;
  And 'cause I grumbled, then the broom she into me did lay.
  And when I ax'd her what she meant, says she, "why that's my way." 
  
  I very soon did curse the time that I beheld her face,
  For I was but a cipher and not measter of my place,
  I never had a civil word, although it was my due,
  And when I didn't please her, she would beat me black and blue!
  She made me scour the room, and wash the counterpanes and sheets,
  While dress'd up, with the ploughman, she went strolling through the streets;
  To buy him gin she pawn'd a portion of my clothes each day;
  But lord, I dared not scold, acause I knew she'd have her way.
  
  At length my wife got very stout and soon wur put to bed,
  She had a couple of little brats, which fill'd my mind with dread;
  For all the features of the ploughman they did soon disclose,
  His squinting eyes, his bandy legs, and ugly turn-up nose.
  Instead of crowning o my hopes, she crown'd my head with thorns,
  For all the people round about, declared I wore the horns;
  The bandy ploughman did my work, the people all did say,
  But how was I to help it for my wife would have her way.
  
  Thus things went on a year or two, she hourly proved my curse,
  For instead of getting better, why she every day got worse;
  Shw pawn'd my clothes, ah, every one, in spite of all I said,
  Till I all day, for want of togs, was forced to lie in bed;
  One day she call'd a broker in, and all my goods she sold.
  And off to Lunnun that same hour, she with the ploughman roll'd;
  She left me all the little ones, and little debts to pay;
  Oh, how I cursed the very hour I let her have her way.
  
  So single men a warning take, and when you take a wife,
  Begin with her as you determine to proceed thro' life:
  Never let your breeches go, but keep them tight yourself,
  For if a woman gets them on you are a foolish elf.
  Let her talk and let her walk, and sometimes take a drop,
  But never let another covey in your chamber pop;
  Love and press her, kiss, caress her, with her toy and play,
  But peace will fly, if once you let - a woman have her way.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 21 Jun 10 - 05:15 AM

RALPH ROSEWOOD

TUNE:- "Moll in the Wad."

  One day when dress'd in my new clothes,
  Says feyther to mother how our Ralph grows,
  I wonder if he never thought in his life
  Ot he'd be some day wantin o wife;
          He's in his prime,
          Un nearly time,
          Ot he should bein o' lookin out;
          Why feyther I said,
          I got in my yead,
          O lass 'ot I'm always thinkin about.

Spoken - But what's th' use fey'her o think obout her, for I'm so bash faced un shoamful, ot I could never say any thin to her; I couldn't tell what for t' say! Well, I'll tell thee then what tha mun say! What feyther? Why say -

        Lumpty tumpty, &c.
  
  I thought o nothin all that day,
  But how with this lass I'd make my way;
  When I went to bed I felt noan reet,
  For I dreomt obout her all that neet,
          Next morn I rose,
          Donn'd on my close,
          Un geet to Dolly's by break o day;
          She just coom out,
          Turn'd me obout;
          Un said what has brought thee so soon this way.

Spoken - Well, I said, if I mun tell th' real truth, my feyther un mother booath sen ot it's time I had somebody, un I can think o nobody but thee, I'd rather ha' thee than any thin in this world, except pie un my mother; un if tha winnot ha' me it will be all -

        Lumpty tumpty, &c.
  
  Says Dolly "why lad, I hardly know,
  Tha always looks so shy and slow."
  O Dolly, if we should but agree,
  You'll see how sherp and bright I'll be;
          Beside I got,
          O goods o lot;
          Un when feyther dees some more Ise t' have,
          Wi' o pound or two,
          To help us get through;
          Then laws how merry we shall but live.

Spoken - There's o good deol o househowd goods ot I know will faw to my lot; there's o wheelbarrow, but t' tringle's broken, bellows 'bout pipe, chair 'bout back, table wi' no top, un o fryin pan wi' two holes ith' middle for t' let t' blaze through when you're fryin any thin, un mony other things; amongst the rest there's -

        Lumpty tumpty, &c.
   
  While we wur talking these things o'er,
  Her feyther un mother just coom to th' door;
  They'd yeard all that had yet gone on,
  Un said in earnest I'd begun;
          When Dolly so shy,
          Cast down her eye,
          Un made o shuffle ut runnin oway;
          But they said stop,
          Come face it up,
          Un tell th' lad what tha's getten to say.

Spoken - Why you know very well I con say nothin obout it, I dunnot know what he's com'd here for. Hey, Dolly! I said, what's use o sayin that, when tha knows weel enough that I want to be made into thy lawful husband, un that tha mun gi' me thy consent, wi' o buss ot same time; and after o little bit o blushin un such like, she coom un gan me o buss ot set me singing -

        Lumpty tumpty, &c.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 21 Jun 10 - 05:12 AM

OLDHAM ON A SATURDAY NIGHT

TUNE:- "Ax my eye."

  Flare up my hearties, come along,
  Let us go and have a sight
  At all the rigs and bustling throng,
  Of Owdham on a Saturday night.
  Tell our Bill to get him ready,
  I've so much t' do I cannot wait;
  To morn I've got t' go off wi' Neddy,
  So I couldn't like to stop out late.
  

Spoken - Well thou knows, I connot go up th' town, for I ha' not reckoned yet! Where's your Sam workin at now? why he's been doin ot Jones's, but he geet up o'th fuddle last week, un he lost his wheels! Well, we'd best all go up th' town together, un then we con have a regular -

                Flare up my hearties, &c.
  
  So you start up Yorkshire-street,
  And soon get into th' Market-place,
  Some owd shopmate you're sure to meet,
  Which ever way you turn your face.
  Then green-grocers calling, bawling,
  Here's your plumbs and apples good,
  While the lads the girls are mauling,
  And lose their shoes among the mud.

Spoken - Well, I declare, I've lost my shoo through that brazen face pooin at me. Yes, here it is madam, with as much mud in as would fill a cart. Now then for appo pie! Now Mrs. will you want a nice piece o' beef, or good fat mutton to night? What are you axin? six-pence halfpenny, pick where you will, not a nicer bit o' stuff i'th market! Well I'm thinking George, ot we'd better have a tongue for th' dinner to morn; its o great while sin we had any - O what! O great while sin we had anythin else tha meons, for I'm sure I've had thine dingin oway for thirty year; un there's two or three young uns yon, ot con use theirs pratty tidily. So I think if we'n any more tongue ot our house, we shall have a

                Flare up, &c.
  
  Then quack doctors bawling,
  Here's your stuff for coughs and colds;
  Complaints howe'er appalling,
  It cures 'em both young and old.
  Then relations teazing, squeezing,
  Reeling ripe from some dram shop,
  While they're moaxing, hoaxing, coaxing
  You to go and take a drop.

Spoken - Well, what wi' cleanin all day, un carryin this great basket up and down, I feel as if I could do wi' o drop o' summot! Now then, here's your never failing remedy, for coughs, colds, or pains of the stomach, on the lungs or in the head; it will expel the wind, cause free breathing; it will cure a bilious or nervous disorder, and will totally eradicate the spleen, the cholic, the skyrus, the cancer and the cholaramorbus; it cures all consumption, serious fits and sudden faintings; it will take the nausea out of your mouth, and leave behind a most pleasant flavour: all for the small charge of one penny; and if it does not give you relief in a few minutes, I will return you ten times the money. Just take one penny-worth, it will make you -

                Flare up my hearties, &c.
  
  The public house you go into,
  And think to get a quiet gill,
  But there the hawkers follow you,
  The door is not a minute still;
  Some wi' nuts and cakes a selling,
  With braces, laces half a score,
  'Till the landlord comes a telling
  You that he will fill no more.

Spoken - Will you buy a nice pie if you please, beef, mutton, or veal, made 'em all myself, quite clean; one for you, thank you sir! Now then for your real Banbury cakes! Here Bob I'st gi' thee o toss? I say, Joseph, has t'seen out of our our Mary? hoo's begun o goin t' yon Music Room, I yeard on her t' other neet bein there wi' o chap, but if I catch her I'll make her

                Flare up my hearties, &c. 

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 21 Jun 10 - 05:09 AM

Well spotted Jim. Gaskel usually credits the authorship if it's not one of his own, but not in this case (nor indeed with Morgan Rattler, above, which I've since discovered is from the pen of Thomas Hudson).

This next one is almost certainly one of Gaskel's.......

Subject: Lyr Add: PITY THE SORROWS OF A POOR OLD MAN
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 19 Jun 10 - 08:50 PM

This is very similar to your OLD MAN OF EIGHTY-FOUR.

From Burton's Comic Songster by W. E. Burton (Philadelphia: James Kay Jun. & Brother, 1837), page 299:


PITY THE SORROWS OF A POOR OLD MAN.
Sung by Mr. Burton, in the character of Solus.

O Pity my sorrows, a poor old man's!
I will no longer tarry;
O! say you'll wed—I'll put up the bans,
And we will go and marry.
When I was young, I often ran
With girls to dance and mingle;
Then pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Who fears he shall die single.

When young, a maid made me afraid,
Lest she should pop the question;
But now I'm old I am more bold,
O! wedded life's the best one.
I'm growing tired, I'll change my plan,
A single life is folly;
Then pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Who's getting melancholy.

At night, black sprites gave fears and frights,
I'm poor with all my treasures;
I'm cold—I'm worse! I want a nurse!
I want sweet wedlock's pleasures!
I mope and mump, do all I can,
For want of woman near me;
Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
I want a wife to cheer me.

When I go out, the people shout,
Pull, push, and tease, and flout me;
I have no son, I have no one
That cares at all about me:
I'll have a wife, whate'er her tan,
I'll have a son and daughter;
Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Don't let him die a martyr.

I'm not much more than seventy-four,
So now's your time, young ladies;
Though old, I'm young, I feel quite strong;
Then, damme! who afraid is?
O! smile consent behind your fan,
Remember time is precious;
O pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
And let the parson bless us.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 18 Jun 10 - 01:07 PM

A PICTURE OF LONDON
(PREST.)

TUNE:- "I was the boy for bewitching em;" or, "Faith, I'll away to the Bridal"

  'Tis myself that was born now in Dublin,
  All over the world I have been,
  But faith I'll not now be you troubling,
  Wid the whole of the wonders I've seen.
  A subject I've got in my noddle,
  'Tis a picture of England's joys,
  But by jabus, that there is all twaddle,
  For it's only palaver and noise.
          Talk of America, Greenland, or Finland,
          Where liberty's banner's unfurl'd,
          I'm singing a picture of England,
          The beauty and pride of the world.
  
  There's the overseers work upon sure rates,
  A set of base swindling elves,
  They distress the house keeper for poor rates,
  And sack all the money themselves.
  To the poor man who's wants are bewildering,
  If he venture his troubles to speak,
  To keep him and his wife, and six children,
  He'll get one and sixpence a week.
  
  The bishops wid gospel they stuff you,
  And for it don't charge very dear,
  'Bout the devil, and such like, they puff you,
  For just twenty thousand a-year.
  Fine luxuries they must be carving,
  Their holy paunch it must be cramm'd;
  But if a poor man says he is starving,
  They tell him to starve and be damm'd.
  
  The magistrates they're kind and tender,
  And justice they deal out so prime,
  The beggar they call an offender,
  And poverty think a big crime.
  To the wretch who's no roof to get under,
  Or victuals his belly to fill,
  They cry wid a voice loud as thunder -
  "Oh! give him six months at the mill."
  
  The ministers plunder the nation,
  A set of rapscallion calves,
  They bother the poor wid taxation,
  And glut while poor Johnny Bull starves.
  There's one tax on my soul I don't blunder,
  The window tax 'tis that I manes;
  And sure now you'll think it a wonder,
  To make people pay for their panes.
  
  They tell you in songs so bewitching,
  That Britons will never be slaves,
  What a mighty big lie they are pitching,
  And I'll tell them all so by their laves.
  The minister poverty mocks on,
  Fine feelings pretending to show,
  The poor are no better than oxen,
  And the rich are their drovers you know.

Notes:
Quite bitter for a 'comic' song. The author PREST. is also referred to as T. PREST. elsewhere in the book (Preston?).
the mill = the treadmill.
The window tax was introduced in 1696 as a replacement for the Hearth Tax. It was repealed in 1851. Some believe this was the origin of the phrase 'daylight robbery'.
Income tax was reintroduced in 1842 by Sir Robert Peel.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 18 Jun 10 - 12:36 PM

THE COLLIER MADE GENTLEMAN
OR, I'VE HAD LEFT A FORTIN

AIR:- "The new Morris Dance," by BROWN, KING, & GIBSON

  I used to be a vulgar clown,
  Both cash and manners short in,
  'Till my old uncle died in town
  And left me all his fortin.
  A collier I was by trade,
  But am changed as you may tell, sirs;
  And sin so rich ith' puss I'm made,
  I'll be a reg'lar swell, sir,
          But I'm so plagued with vulgar folk,
          Though we've got cash to sport in,
          I cannot cut the tip-top swell,
          Since I've been left a fortin.
  
  I used to go with low bred chaps,
  And talk with every aw-gaw -
  Get drunk in Tom and Jerry shops,
  And went o purrin th' foot baw;
  But now with all the swells in town,
  I sports my bobs and tanners,
  And I'm going up to Lunnun soon
  O learnin genteel manners.
          But I'm so plagued, &c. 
  
  And when I've been to Lunnun town,
  I mean to go to France, sirs,
  And practice two or three time a week
  At larnin hop'ra dancin.
  And then I've got a quizzing glass,
  To see things near and far O!
  But the ohter day it caused me to fall
  Reet over a wheelbarrow.
          For I'm so plagued, &c. 
  
  My family are a vulgar set,
  If they get clothes in fashion,
  They puts em on the wrong side out,
  Which puts me in a passion.
  The lads whene'er they go to church,
  For all we've lots of riches,
  They all on em goes in their clogs,
  Smock frock and leather breeches.
          For I'm so plagued, &c. 
  
  My wife she is worst of all,
  When we gives genteel dinners,
  She uses neither knife or fork,
  But pops in all her fingers.
  And when they hands the wine about,
  She tell the gents it stinks, sirs,
  Gets full her mouth and squirts it out,
  And calls for treacle drink sirs.
          For I'm so plagued, &c. 
  
  If I give a dinner to my lord,
  And bid her make a good un,
  Perhaps she'll make some pease soup,
  Or else a great black pudding.
  And when the tea it is brought in,
  The tray always she'll fling, sirs,
  Stir up the sugar with her fist,
  And then she licks her fingers.
          For I'm so plagued, &c. 
  
  My lord once asked us out to dine,
  And then we had a rum start,
  Instead of our new carriage fine,
  She would go in the dung-cart;
  And then he sent his horse to her,
  And wanted her to ride, sirs,
  And what d'ye think oth' ignorant jade,
  She would get on astride, sirs.
          For I'm so plagued, &c.

Note:
The quizzing glass was a sort of monocle held to one's eye with a handle, in a similar fashion to a lorgnette.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 18 Jun 10 - 10:38 AM

WONDERFUL ALTERATIONS

TUNE:- "The Coronation"

  What changes now are going on,
  In each new undertaking;
  In every town and every street
  They're alterations making;
  They're turning th' world just upside down,
  To cause folks observation;
  To make owd things to look like new
  Are all these alterations.
  
  In Lunnun they began at first,
  And made a nation bustle,
  Wi' Dan O Connell, Wellington,
  Wi' Peel and Johnny Russell;
  They talk'd a deal about the tythes,
  And th' Irish corporations;
  Yet nothing done since they begun,
  But made fresh alterations.
  
  The folk wur in astonishment
  As you may well remember,
  When they agreed ith' parliament
  For Owdham t' ha' two members;
  You made 'em two and sent 'em up
  To have an explanation;
  And there you'll find they towd their mind
  About an alteration.
  
  The other day they came down here
  To talk on th' ten hours bill sirs;
  They vow'n ot how they'll have it,
  And I'm sure I hope they will sirs;
  Or else they'll kick up such a row
  In every town ith' nation,
  Ot will frighten folks in Lunnun till
  They make this alteration.
  
  There's one act ot they'n lately pass'd
  I rather think a blemish is,
  It says on th' Tom and Jerry signs,
  "To be drunk on the premises;"
  So it seems ot we mun now get drunk
  If we'n no inclination;
  And 'bout we mind, perhaps get fin'd;
  And that's queer alteration. 
  
  But if by chance you should get drunk,
  You'll not be lost ith' streets sirs,
  For now you'n getten fine Gas Works,
  Ot give o decent leet sirs;
  Un then they'n let up th' Owd Church clock,
  For every congregation;
  So Owdham's quite enlighten'd now;
  And that's an alteration.
  
  For th' want of room to sell your wares,
  This town's been in disgrace sirs;
  So out of Tommy Fielt they mean
  To make a Market Place sirs;
  They'll build it round wi' great fine shops,
  And each accommodation;
  And when that's doneI'll make this song
  To suit that alteration.
  
  There's one alteration yet,
  All others far surpasses,
  It used to be that lads you know
  Went courting to the lasses;
  But lasses now are got so bad,
  That without hesitation,
  They go themselves o courtin th' lads,
  And that's queer alteration.
  
  But there's one thing that pleases me,
  In this and other places,
  No alteration I can see
  In you kind smiling faces;
  And if there's ought I've said or sung
  Throughout my observations,
  You've only just to say it's wrong,
  I'll soon make alterations.

Notes:
The constituency of Oldham, returning two MPs, was created by the Great Reform Act of 1832.
It would be another six years before The Ten Hour Bill was passed, when it became the Factories Act 1847.
Tommy Fielt = Tommyfield outdoor market, still in use today.
The first gas works, built in 1827, were on a small site at Greaves Street.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 18 Jun 10 - 10:34 AM

THE OLD MAN OF EIGHTY-FOUR

  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  Who can no longer tarry,
  He can't get a wife do all he can,
  Tho' he wants one in a hurry.
  When I was young I often ran,
  Where lads and lasses mingle;
  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  Who fears he will die single.
  
  When young, a maid, made me afraid,
  Lets she should pop the question,
  But now I'm old, I'm grown more bold;
  A wedded life's the best one.
  So I'm resolved to change my plan,
  A single life's a folly;
  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  Who's getting melancholy.
  
  At night black sprites do me afright,
  I'm poor with all my treasures;
  It is my fate to want a mate,
  To give sweet wedlock's pleasures.
  I sigh and moan when left alone,
  To get a woman near me;
  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  I want a wife to cheer me.
  
  I'm not much more than eighty-four,
  So lasses, do not flout me;
  Tho' rather old - I'm growing quite bold,
  When young folk flock about me.
  I'll get a wife what e'er the plan
  I'll get a son and daughter;
  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  Don't let him be a martyr.
  
  If I walk out the folks about -
  They joke, they jeer and flout me,
  I have no son, I have no one,
  Who cares a fig about me.
  Some sweet maid come, to my arms run,
  And let us both confess us;
  Oh! pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
  And let the parson bless us.
  

Note: this is one of the few songs where no tune is indicated.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 14 Jun 10 - 08:35 AM

Sid, you can view Rivington Pike right now on the Bodleian website. The words are identical to Gaskel's - he gives the tune as The Maypole.

More to come (plus Volume 2 of course).

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: sid
Date: 14 Jun 10 - 07:23 AM

This is all very interesting, especially the "Journey to Rivington Pike" which is local to me. I'll wait for you to post it! The Jone o'Grinfilt song above was obviously written to capitalise on the success of the whole series of songs about Jone at the time, the theme, characters and date are right although it's not a genuine derivative as it doesn't sing to the "Chapter of Kings" tune used for them. More about JoG on a link from my website downloads page www.sidcalderbank.co.uk via "the music well" - SID

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 11 Jun 10 - 05:05 AM

JOAN O'GREENFIELD'S VISIT TO QUEEN VICTORIA

TUNE:- "Cork Leg"

  There's nothing scarce lately run in folk's yeads,
  But summat about our young Queen gettin wed,
  So ne day aw at once it popt into my nob,
  That if hoo'd wed me it would be no bad job.
                          Right to ra loo, &c.
  
  The neighbours agreed they thought it wur no joke,
  As there's but very few as good lookin folk;
  So I dress'd myself up, my new hat on I stuck,
  And set off to Lunnun o tryin my luck.
  
  Well I geet up to Lunnun un found palace out,
  But the guards wanted t' know aw my business obout;
  But, I said, stand away, what I ha' to tell,
  I shall say it to nobody but th' Missus hursel.
  
  Why, I said, chaps, what foos you mun be,
  If you'd e're been i Oldham you'd o yeard tell o me,
  If my feyther'd been here he'd o bother'd your lugs,
  For he once coom o seeing King George in his clugs.
  
  I shoved em oside, and walked into this shop,
  And till reet afore th' Queen I ne'er made to stop;
  But hur women they scream'd and made such a do,
  Says I to em - now, what the devil's the row!
  
  Come now, my lasses, un reach me o chair,
  I'st behave myself pratty, you need not to fear,
  But t'would happen be better if you go away,
  For I've summot in private to th' Missus to say.
  
  But for makin o move they seem'd no way inclined,
  So I drew up o chair to tell th' Queen my mind;
  I said, I'm inform'd you're for weddin some mon,
  So I've made up my mind to be th' King if I con.
  
  O rare fine procession you had t'other day,
  Un nothin but grandeur un shoutin aw th' way,
  You would o look'd weel if I'd been wi you there,
  For we'd surely o made o rare fine lookin pair.
  
  At Greenfield where I come frow, we're none bad to do,
  Respectable kinsfolk we'n getten no few,
  Situations they held such there's not many here,
  For I once had an uncle as served as o'erseer.
  
  When we pay um a vist by way of o mank,
  They'll receive us un treat us like folk of hee rank.
  They'n both, cocks, hens, un ducks, un pig in the sty,
  Un each Sunday o great slappin potatoe pie.
  
  Them I'm reckon'd o rum un omong politics,
  I'll stop all their waste and extravagant tricks,
  I'll ha' th' werk gradely done, or I'll alter their rigs,
  For I'll nother be gammont wi tories nor whigs.
  
  Nor will I be freetent wi th' radical set,
  But I'll wipe off o lot o this national debt;
  I'll poo down taxation, un look into th' cause,
  Why we'n not a revision omong the corn laws.
  
  I'll examine reet close int' that long pension list,
  Un those sinecure place men, I'll give em o twist;
  I'll mend some o th' werk o your late uncle Will,
  I'll send to owd Harry - th' New Poor-law Bill.
  
  I'll ha' votin by ballot, un th' suffrage extend,
  To show poor folk ot they'n getten one friend,
  I'll stir up aw Europe to make a good trade,
  Folks shall aw ha' good jobs, and be very well paid.
  
  I'll see if th' Parliament nought can be said,
  To get the young men the young women to wed;
  For if they but knew aw the charms of o wife,
  Noo foo would live single aw th' days of his life.
  
  So, what say you to me - I think you'll agree,
  You'll not get another to suit you like me;
  You'll see aw your business I'st manage so clever,
  They'll shout Joan o'Greenfield, un th' young Queen for ever.
  
  She smiled aw the while I wur tellin my tale;
  I thought on the yead I have hit the reet nail;
  But after hem! blushing! un coughin o bit,
  Hoo said like hoo thought I shouldn't quite fit.
  
  I felt mysel vex'd as I went to the door,
  And I said don't think I'll offer mysel ony more;
  You may search, if you like, aw o'er England and France,
  But by gadlin you'll not get another such chance.
  
  I slam'd to the door un oway I coom out,
  Where the servants wur laughin un giglin obout;
  If I'd known hoo'r so proud I'd never gone to th' expense;
  But there's no hopes o teachin these young women sense.
  
  So now I'm returnin to Greenfield ogain,
  I'll most like make it up wi owd sweetheart Nan;
  If Queen hears o that hoo'll be rare un ill vex'd,
  Un hoo'll happen be kinder when I offer next.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 08 Jun 10 - 04:50 AM

Many thanks for that, Q. Too late to stop me doing the one below, but there are sufficient differences to warrant its inclusion

THE COUNTRYMAN IN LONDON

TUNE:- "Drops of Brandy"

  When fro' Lancashire first I went up,
  Good laws! how the Lunnun folk eyed me,
  I reckon they thought me a clown,
  As they offered their service to guide me.
  Bur I're not to be catch'd in their traps,
  For we Lanky lads understand trickin,
  So I tipt um a few friendly raps,
  And that set their kindness o kickin.
  

Spoken -- That is o kickin their heels I meon; because when I geet into Lunnun, seein as I wur o countrified sort of o chap, they wanted t' have a bit of o joke wi me; so there comes up o very fine dressed sort of o man, un says he, "honest lad, does thee know what's o'clock?" Why, aye, I said, any foo knows that, o clock's o thing what tells th' toime o day! Well, but he said, what's o'clock now? Why, I said, o clock's o clock, now or any other time, just t' same; I said we'n o very pratty clock o whoam, but it's out o fettle, un I've brought th' strikin part wi me o bein mended! Well, he says, does it ever strike when you are from home? I said it does sometimes! "Well", says he, "I wish you'd make it strike now?" So I up wi my fist un knocked him down; there it's stricken one o'clock! While he lay sprawlin ith' mud - I run down th' street singin --

                                
                          Rum ti iddy, &c.
  
  Then as I walk'd in the Strand,
  And there to myself wur talkin,
  About how I wur come to a stand,
  Which wur the best way to be walkin,
  I're taken somwhow by surprise
  Wi a gentleman's hand in my pocket;
  So I just painted one of his eyes,
  And knock'd t' other out of its socket.
  

Spoken -- Hallo! measter, I said, I think I've made o bit of o mistake! He said you've made a very great mistake to go and strike me in that way, when I was goin to show you the sign of the Bell and Mouth! Aye, I said, but when you come to th' sign o'th hand ith' pocket, it wur time I showed you th' sign o th' fist ith' face; but, I suppose now, us I made thee blind, tha' can see thy mistake. - I then went o little bit down th' street, un I looked into o shop where I seed o mon writin, well, I said, owd chap, whay do you sell here? "Why", he said, "we sell Loggerheads!" O! I reckon, those are what we call Chouter yeads? "Yes", he said! Well, I said, but you'n o rare trade on it, for you'n sowd um aw but one I see, un he's writin. Then I seed some tailors workin in o shop wi th' windows open, and one on um hits me o rap on the yead wi th' yerd stick; there, he said, my man, there's a crowner for you! I'd my new pair o flails across my shoulder, I took him o rap un fotched him off th' shopboart; there, I said, ther's four and elevenpence halfpenny back, I cannot carry copper, off wi

                          My rum ti, &c, &c.
  
  At neet as I walked in the street,
  I thought fust the dickens wur in me,
  That I must be a beauty complete,
  For thg' wenches aw wanted to win me;
  But I found it was all a cajole,
  And all their billin and cooin
  Was only to handle my tin,
  And an honest lad bring into ruin.
  

Spoken -- As I went down th' street, I seed o very foine beatutified woman, I think I never seed any body look so nice; hur face wur aw daubed o'er wi red raddle! Hoo said I wur very pratty, it rather pleased me, tho' I knowed it wur not true; well, hoo coom up an made o very foine cortsey, un I was mackin hur one o my best bows, un I sent my yead clean thro' th' shop window! Hollo! says shopman, what are you for? Well, I think I'm gettin booked for an inside place; un wi that I had to set off, for fear he met want pay -- un goin down o street I met o parson chap readin in o book. "Well," said he, "where does this street go to?" Why, I said, street goes no where, its standin still! "I meon", he said, "where will it take me to?" I said, it will take you no where! "Where shall I go to if I go down this street?" Well, I said, if you go far enough you'll go to t'other end on't! "Sir, you are a very wicked, impertinent rascal; what religion do you profess, what's your belief?" Why, I said, there's but one o th' same belief us me in our part un we cannot afford to keep o church between us! "Why, I pray you, what belief is that?" Why I owe him half-a-crown un he believes I shall never pay him, un I believe th' same. So Off I went singin --

                          Rum ti iddy, &c. 
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 03:47 PM

"Irish Beauty" has some comparisons that my grandparents used.

In the Bodleian--but could be different versions.
Flare Up, Molly Maybush. The wooden legg'd parson, Lad for the Lasses, My wife would have her way, The countryman in London, A single young man lodger, Dolly Dixon, The soldiering chap, Petticoat government, All round the room, The swill tub, The shabby swell, Molly Coddle, The Countryman's wedding.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 12:05 PM

Gah! Just noticed that the Bodleian has a Harkness broadside of Dolly Dixon (dated 'between 1840 and 1866').

Memo to self: check before starting to type!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 05:18 AM

THE IRISH BEAUTY

TUNE:- "Sprig of Shillalah"

  I've been told I'm the son of my mother,
  And I think in my heart I'm no other,
  I'm as pratty a boy as your heart can desire;
  One day says my mother - case I was her joy,
  My darling you are now a hoblety-hoy;
  To make a large fortin Pat find out the way,
  So sometimes I made love and sometimes I made hay,
  And they christen'd me Paddy Mulwarney, Esquire.
  
  The first of my pranks was at little Ratshane,
  Where a spoonful of love just got into my brain,
  All for Judy Delarney, a nate little soul;
  Then to sing all the charms of the girl sure I mane,
  The whole boiling of which I'm just going to name;
  And if in her face, any colour is seen,
  It's either an olive or else bottle green,
  And she's as tall and as fat as a shaver man's pole.
  
  She's a nate taper waist like a butt in the middle,
  She plays on the Jew's harp and I on the fiddle,
  And Och! but such music there never was heard;
  Her eyes were as black - on my soul I'm no joker,
  As two holes in a blanket that's burnt with a poker,
  And as for their brightness I'll tell you what's more,
  They're like two scalded gooseberries stuck in a door,
  And she strikes me so dumb that I can't speak a word.
  
  Och! Judy's the creature whenever she's ripe,
  For chewing tobacco or smoking a pipe;
  And she sits in the corner as black as ould scratch;
  She's a nate row of teeth - nay, she's two by me soul,
  And her tongue sticks between like a toad in the hole;
  She's like a goose pie above all other things,
  For she's nothing but giblets and gizzards and wings;
  The devil himself sure can't find her a match.
  
  Och! Judy, sweet Judy, the joy of my life,
  Search all the world o'er you'll not find such a wife,
  At least if you do 'twill be devilish queer;
  She squints, and the rason of that I suppose,
  Is because both her eyes are afraid of her nose,
  Her cheeks green as leeks - put me all in a bustle,
  And she opens her mouth as you'd open a muscle,
  And then it extends from ear to ear.
  
  The a nate pair of beautiful legs she has got,
  Wid the calves at the bottom instead of the top,
  And she dances away with a devilish twist.
  Then as for her singing, Och! bless her sweet pipes,
  She's just like a short-winded sow in the gripes;
  When she laughs, or she twitters, or strains her sweet throat,
  Her cheeks hang in puckers just like a top coat;
  You might take out a yard and 'twould never be miss'd.
  
  Then all at our wedding sung whack! pilliloo!
  W'd a shillalah fight and a real hububoboo!
  And all lay so genteely drunk on the floor;
  Then the bells of the church rang so merrily boys,
  You'd have given five pounds to have been out the noise;
  So we just slipp'd to bed, and the very next morn,
  We'd two daughters, and both of them Irishmen born;
  And each is handsonme as Judy herself.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 05:15 AM

DOLLY DIXON

OR, THE RACE FOR FOUR SHILLINGS

TUNE:- "Margery Topping"

  I'm Robin, the plough boy, fro' Saddleworth come,
  But love in by bosom could never find room,
  'Till one Dolly Dixon, I vow and declare,
  Hoo stole my poor heart - it wur last Oldham fair.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  I went up to Dolly and view'd hur o while,
  I gan hur o look, un hoo gan me o smile;
  That made me determin'd my plan to pursue,
  For o smile for o wort - gum, thinks I, that u'll do.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  Another kind wort or two brought us ith' fair,
  Hoo grinn'd un hoo star'd ot fine things ot wur there;
  Aw bought hur o comb for to stick in yur yead,
  Twopenneth o nuts un a pound o ginsbread.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  Then Dolly and I to a ale-house we went,
  To ha' some good dancin it wur our intent;
  But I yeard Dolly say to a felly ith' room,
  Jack, go thee down th' stairs, un I'll follow thee soon.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  I'll gi' thee some cakes ot I getten o this gobbin,
  Thou'll see what a tummy we'll make o poor Robin;
  Tho' I yeard very weel every wort ot hoo said,
  I seem'd not to year but stood scarttin my yead.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  To trick these two rum uns - I felt rather willin,
  So I caw'd for some punch, un it coom to four shillin;
  For t' sake o good manners I leet Dolly sup,
  Then I took it myself un aw drunk it aw up.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  I pretended t' be ill, un aw shankled away,
  And left lonely Dolly the shot for to pay;
  I said to myself fare thee weel Dolly Dixon,
  You thought to fix me, but I fix'd thee, thou vixen.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  Th' landlord soon coom out wi' o hue un o cry,
  "Stop thief! stop thief!" it rang thro' the sky;
  But says I to the crowd, "let me go if your willin,
  I'm nothin but runnin o race for four shillin."
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  I went thro' the fair, but I seed little on it,
  I seed th' greedy landlord - he took Dolly's bonnet;
  Bare yeaded poor Dolly did wander for sure,
  Un hoo look'd as if drown'd aw among hur long yure.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  
  At last hoo went whoam wi hur heart full of woe,
  Un hoo'll think o poor Robin - gum hoo will do so;
  But yonder hoo comes, un hur feyther persuin,
  Un so as they're comin I'd better be goin.
                          Fol de rol tiddle lol liddle la.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 05:13 AM

THE WAY YOUR MONEY GOES

TUNE:- "The White Cockade"

  We all must own it to be true
  That without money we can't do;
  Which ever way our thoughts we bend,
  We find that money is our friend;
  And when we a supply obtain,
  Our wants demand it back again;
  So the subject which I now propose,
  Is to show the way your money goes.
  
  When only children first at school,
  How soon we learn this losing rule;
  The few pence given by a friend,
  We foolishly in toys expend,
  In toffy, cakes, and lolly pops,
  In sugar plums, in whips and tops,
  With every sort of fruit that grows;
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  You grow up and the world commence.
  And you then find no small expense;
  You have to dress yourself quite smart,
  To catch the eye of a nice sweetheart;
  Then to treat her you begin,
  With brandy, wine, with rum or gin,
  You cut a swell while round it flows,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  When this life awhile you've led,
  You think you might as well be wed;
  And truly, it will make you sigh,
  To find you've every thing to buy;
  There's beds and bedsteads, tables, chairs,
  Cradle, clock and crockery wares,
  Kettles, pans, and things like those;
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  Your wife, perhaps, will then be ill,
  And soon there comes a doctor's bill:
  Then each year you make a rule
  To take her down to Liverpool;
  For coaches then you have to pay,
  And places in the new railway;
  Take her to all the plays and shows,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  You're just got home, sat down content,
  The landlord calls in for his rent,
  And before he's well got from the gate,
  There's others for taxes and poors' rate;
  And if you don't pay when such comes,
  You get a visit from the bums;
  And if with them you get to blows,
  Why then in law your money goes.
  
  Your children may to work begin,
  And bring you a few shillings in,
  Your case is worse now than before,
  For they want it all laid out - and more;
  Your daughter soon will raise a bawl
  For caps and bonnet, dress and shawl;
  The sons won't stir without new clothes,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  There's lotteries, clubs, and banking schemes,
  Of independence oft you dream;
  And when you have some little made,
  There comes a dearth and down goes trade;
  At last you save with all your cares,
  Enough to keep you some few years,
  When death just tweaks you by the nose,
  You know not where your money goes.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 05:11 AM

BILLY BUMPS AND MARY PORTER

TUNE:- "Maggie Lauder"

  Before I ever fell in love,
  I wur both fat and plump sir,
  And reckon'd rather handsome,
  Was your servant, Billy Bumps sir.
  There wur a girl beside our house,
  Each night I went to court her,
  The prattiest girl you've ever seed
  Was sweetheart Mary Porter.
                  Too ra liddle, whack! whack!
                  Whack fol de iddle ido,
                  Too ra whack too ra whack
                  Whack whack too ra whack
                  Whack fol de liddle idle ido.
  
  The lads about all wanted her,
  But she at them would scoff sir;
  If it happen'd they'd a country dance,
  We always led it off sir;
  Every where, at wake or fair,
  We always made the sport sir,
  No other couple could come near
  Mysen and Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  
  But all at once she grew quite shy
  And tired of plough and tillage,
  She said she'd go to some great town,
  She could not bear a village;
  And she truly kept her word,
  My heart she gave a smart,
  She went away one Sunday neet,
  And I lost Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  
  Then wi' that I fretted sore,
  And took it to heart sadly,
  They wur like to fetch a doctor
  I had made mysen so badly;
  But I pack'd up my Sunday clothes
  Determin'd t' follow after;
  And travel aye! this world all o'er
  But I'd find Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  
  So I travell'd far and near,
  'Till I come into this town sir;
  So went into a public house
  For a glass, and sat me down sir;
  But when the servant brought it in,
  I're struck like a deserter,
  For who do you think the lass should be,
  By gum! it wur Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  
  When I got a seet of her
  I felt all o'er so fluster'd,
  I leet the glass fall fro' my hand,
  And run ti gie her a buss sir;
  But when that I came up to her,
  Says she young man, stop short sir,
  I'd have you know, I'm Bar maid here,
  So don't touch Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  
  When that I heard her say so,
  I wish'd that I'd been deod,
  I felt my heart drop in my shoes
  Just like a lump o leod.
  I learnt ot Landlord had a son,
  And he'd pretended t' court her,
  He gammon'd her to gi' me th' bag,
  So i lost Mary Porter.
                  Too ra, &c.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 07 Jun 10 - 05:10 AM

Thanks for your suggestions, men; any excuse not to type is welcome! I am concentrating on those songs which don't appear elsewhere (or, I should say, I haven't found elsewhere). I will collate the broadside versions shortly (Gaskel is important because he gives what may be the original tunes).

In the meantime, here's some more....

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 05 Jun 10 - 04:16 PM

Agree, A C. Gaskell's versions could be different.
I will check the titles you posted against the earlier The Universal Songster but they cound also be different.
Your efforts in posting Gaskell are much appreciated. Looks like it has some 'fun' old songs.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Artful Codger
Date: 05 Jun 10 - 04:00 PM

The difference in dating of the versions may be important, and the sources may provide different variants. I would hate to quote a song purported to be out of Gaskell's, 1841, only to find that the text was different from the cited source.

If one isn't a touch typist of fair accuracy, search-copy-paste-edit may be the most efficient method, but I generally find it quicker and more reliable just to transcribe directly from the source. It takes time and greater mental effort to search for an online version, to compare it against your own text version for general agreement, to find and fix all the differences (particularly the look-alike OCR substitutions--typing errors are usually more glaring) and to reformat it appropriately. If my original source is a book with OCR handy, I'll clip and edit, but otherwise, I find it less efficient and more error-prone to hunt up some other OCR'd variant.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 05 Jun 10 - 03:16 PM

Hey, Sminky! It's great that you found this cool songbook and it's great that you want to post the songs at Mudcat (that is, assuming they haven't been posted before—I haven't checked) but I have a suggestion that might save you some work, especially if you are typing this stuff out by hand.

"Gaskel's Comic Song Book" isn't available online, but a lot of other songbooks are, and some of the songs in "Gaskel's Comic Song Book" may be available in other books.

For instance, I found GRIST THE MILLER in Mirth and Metre: by C. Dibdin, Jun. (London: Vernor, Hood, and Sharpe, 1807), page 195.

Can you see that poem? (Click the link.) We've heard that some books that can be seen in the US can't be seen in the UK, because Google interprets copyright laws differently for different countries.

If you can see it, you can probably copy and paste it. First you've got to click the link on that page that says "Plain text." Then it will bring up, instead of a page image, a page that consists of text that has already been processed by an OCR (Optical Character Reader) and converted to editable text. The OCR will introduce some errors, however, so if you want your copied text to be 100% correct, and formatted nicely, you will need to proofread it and make corrections.

Anyway, that's easier (usually) than typing the whole thing from scratch.

On the other hand, if you have your own scanner and OCR program, you might be doing this already.

So basically my suggestion is: before you type song lyrics, check and see if it's in another book that you can copy and paste from.

Or, you might want to concentrate your effort on songs that are NOT in any other songbook.

Whatever you do, thanks for all the effort you are putting in.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 04 Jun 10 - 01:45 PM

Thanks for Morgan Rattler. It is of a type, but better than most. It was one that I couldn't find although it's tune is mentioned for other songs.

The Bodleian Library has several Joan o' Greenfield's, but not the Visit to Queen Victoria.
Checking your list, 15 are in the Bodleian Collection. I haven't looked farther.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 04 Jun 10 - 06:18 AM

Correction to the Table of Contents:

Joad O'Greenfield should read Joan

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 04 Jun 10 - 06:17 AM

A SINGLE YOUNG MAN LODGER

(ANONYMOUS)

TUNE:- "Lunnun is the Devil"

  I was by trade a snob,
  And for myself turn'd master -
  So quick I did each job,
  Few could earn money faster.
  I had soom room to let,
  So my wife (a funny codger)
  Said, "Love, we'd better get,
  A single young man lodger!"
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  A bill did soon appear,
  Which some afforded fun for,
  "A gentleman may here
  Be taken in and done for!"
  An applicant had we,
  A chap whose name was Roger,
  Who forthwith said he'd be
  "Our single young man lodger!"
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  I thought, of course, he'd pay,
  For he wore decent raiment,
  But two months pass'd away,
  And still there was no payment!
  He came there but to dwell,
  But damme! if the codger,
  Didn't always board as well -
  This single young man lodger!
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  At dinner, supper, tea,
  The time exact he heeded;
  For in our room he'd be,
  "To do" - he said - "as we did!"
  And when with us he'd dine,
  Though but a thin spare codger,
  He'd eat enough for nine -
  This single young man lodger!"
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  From me my cash, egad!
  My spousy us'd to steal him;
  And when his boots were bad,
  She made me "sole and heel em!"
  If I asked for a bob,
  He'd give me such a podger -
  And say, "get out you snob,
  "Nor dare insult your lodger!"
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  From my wedding-day five years.
  My toil had been incessant;
  We were without those "dears",
  That makes one's marriage pleasant,
  When all at once she had
  Two puking little codgers -
  One eye was mine egad!
  But t'other was the lodgers!
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  That cause for jealousy
  I found from this here chap's tone,
  The child was as like me
  As a paste horn's like a lapstone!
  One morn ere break of day,
  I lost this artful dodger -
  For she had run away 
  With this here single lodger!
                  Tooral, &c.
  
  My furnish'd room he stript,
  Which gave me quite the ricketts -
  He'd pledged my goods, and left
  From gratitude - the tickets!
  So, each snob who'd be wise,
  And his wife in safety lodge her,
  Oh, never advertise
  For a single young man lodger!
                  Tooral, &c.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 04 Jun 10 - 05:53 AM

MORGAN RATTLER

  Oh, the lasses of London are sad wicked jades,
  All manner o' tricks, by gosh, they be up to em;
  And for cheating poor lads like o I is their trades;
  And t'would puzzle the old one to put a good stop to em.
  My Kate, in the country, is different quite,
  When I was at home, why, I was her prattler,
  And I have loved her sincerely from morning to night;
  And none was so happy as Morgan Rattler.
  
  I comed up to Lunnun, and the very first day,
  I met a fine lady, who ax'd me to walk wi' her;
  And she said, she was frightful o fainting away,
  I'll be dashed, if I wasn't afeard for to talk wi' her.
  She begg'd instantly that a coach I would call,
  For nothing but home directly could settle her;
  And then so politely pull'd me in all in all;
  Oh! in what a sad pucker was Morgan Rattler.
  
  The coach then set off, and dash'd through thick and thin,
  The lady got better, and ax'd me to sup wi her;
  Thinks I, oh dear, dear, she's for snaring me in,
  No matter what haps, I'll try and be up wi her.
  Says I, "Madam sly, I sees what you're up to,
  I'se awake to your tricks, though you're a sweet tattler;
  But all your fine fits and your faintings wont do,
  You've got the wrong person, in Morgan Rattler.
  
  When she found me determin'd, she flew in a rage,
  Left the coach, and then calld me a brute and a bore, too, sirs.
  And said that I ought to be shut in a cage,
  For using a lady so vile - and much more too, sirs;
  The coachman then civilly ask'd for his fare,
  (By this time, quite clean out of sight was the tattler,)
  I felt in my pockets - 'tis true, I declare,
  She'd stole all the money of Morgan Rattler.
  
  The coachman then held the door fast in his hand,
  To let me go out he was not at all willing, sirs,
  And said he was sure that the trick it was plann'd,
  And 'twould serve one just right if I got a good milling, sirs.
  I jump'd in a rage from the coach to the street,
  Says I to him, "Young man, I beant a great battler,
  But I think I can gi' you a thrashing complete,
  As sure as my name it is Morgan Rattler.
  
  I strip't to be at'n, and too it we gaes,
  And a few minutes finish'd his bu'ness so neatly, sirs;
  Meantime somme domm'd thief run away with my claes,
  And poor I, was every way cheated completely, sirs.
  I'se had quite enough of this vile Lunnun town,
  I'll go back home to my Kate, and I'll marry and settle her,
  And to feyther, and mother, and all when I'ze down,
  I'll tell all the misfortunes o Morgan Rattler.
  

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 03 Jun 10 - 05:17 AM

Will do, Q.

The words to quite few of the songs are recorded elsewhere (including broadsides). Where this occurs I will point to the alternative source and concentrate on those which don't. Saves a lot of typing!

But I do do requests!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 09:44 PM

I would much appreciate the lyrics of "Morgan Rattler."
The tune was used for a couple of other songs I have seen but I have never seen lyrics to "Morgan Rattler."

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 06:31 AM

'Fraid not, Artful, just the names. Some are well known - Maggie Lauder, Drops of Brandy, Cork Leg, Oyster Girl. Some less so, eg. Mr Simkins Lived At Leeds(!?).

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Artful Codger
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 06:17 AM

Are any tunes notated in the book?

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 05:14 AM

THE WOODEN LEGG'D PARSON

TUNE:- "Dumble Dum Deary"

  A Barber there was named Timothy Brigs,
  Quite famous he was for making good Wigs,
  'Till with a lass called Beckey Bell,
  Slap over the ears in love he fell.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  So they went to the Church the knot to tie,
  To a wooden legg'd parson, one Jonathan Sly,
  If you'd seen him I'm sure you'd have laughed at him plump,
  As he mounted the pulpit stairs with a stump.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  They had only been married a week or two,
  When Beckey turned out a most terrible shrew,
  "No comfort I have with this woman" he said,
  So I'll go back to th' Parson and I'll be un-wed.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  So he went to the Parson, and said, Mr. Sly,
  If I stop with yond' woman I'm sure I shall die,
  You know, sir, you made us two into one,
  So I'm come for to know if we can't be undone.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  The Parson said that this is a thing rather new,
  I don't know that I've power my flock to undo,
  But in hopes that you'll lead a more happy life,
  I'll call at your house and admonish your wife.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  The Barber quite pleas'd went a taking his glass,
  And the Parson stumped off for to lecture the lass;
  When the barber went home, laws! what should he see,
  But the Parson with Beckey at top of his knee.
          Singing dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  The Barber at this bristled up every hair,
  Says he, Mr. Sly, what are you doing there;
  Why you know that you wanted undoing good man,
  So you see that I'm trying as hard as I can.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  Yes, I think I'm undone as I ne'er was before,
  So he kick'd Mr. Parson streight out of door;
  There he lay in the street, while his wooden leg stood
  Like a spade sticking up in a cart load of mud.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  
  They lived after this rather more reconcil'd,
  And in nine months from then she brought him a child,
  But the Barber he hung himself up on a peg
  When he found the child born with a new wooden leg.
          With his dumble dum deary, &c.
  

Subject: Index: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 05:12 AM

Table of Contents (volume 1, 1841)

They're All Courting
Billy Bumps and Mary Porter
Flare Up
Sam Shuttle and Betty Reedhook
Half Past Twelve O'Clock (in Oldham)
Molly Maybush
Grist The Miller
The Way Your Money Goes
Peep Into Lunnun
Genteel Breeding
The Wooden Legg'd Parson
Oldham on a Saturday Night
Husbands Sold By Auction
Rambles in Oldham
Ralph Rosewood
Wonderful Alterations
Betty Whyat
Lad For The Lasses
A Tale of a Shirt
My Wife Would Have Her Way
Morgan Rattler
The Countryman in London
A Single Young Man Lodger
Dolly Dixon
The Soldiering Chap
It's Nothing At All When You're Used To It
A Picture of London
Joad O'Greenfield's Visit to Queen Victoria
Petticoat Government
The Irish Beauty
All Round the Room
The Swill Tub
The Shabby Swell
How I Doat Upon Her
Dorothy Lee
A Journey To Rivington Pike
Molly McCree
Molly Coddle
Two Degrees of Matrimony
The Collier Made a Gentleman
The Countryman's Wedding
Wait a Bit For That Says I
The Oddfellow's Wife

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 01 Jun 10 - 02:22 PM

Good one! More would be appreciated.

Subject: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841)
From: GUEST, Sminky
Date: 01 Jun 10 - 09:04 AM

Cost me and arm and a leg, but I went ahead and bought this (from Dave Moran - ex Halliard):


GASKEL'S

COMIC SONGS

Containing

ALL THE SONGS, ETC. THAT WERE PUBLISHED IN THE FORMER FIVE NUMBERS.

NEW EDITION

MANCHESTER:
ABEL HEYWOOD, 58 AND 60, OLDHAM-STREET
1841


It came along with volume 2 (1843).

There's some great stuff in there, with a mixture of familiar and less well-known songs (often with named tunes). I hope to post the words to at least some of them in the coming days (weeks?).

Here's a start:


GRIST THE MILLER

  Grist the Miller had a maid,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  She was sober, fair and staid,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  Her hair was black, her eyes were blue,
  The neighbours thought her fair to view;
  And Grist the miller thought so too,
  As click! clack! went the mill.
  Click! clack! click! clack! click! clack! went the mill.
  
  Grist the Miller had some cash,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  And with his shiners cut a dash,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  As love his heart did quite inthral,
  She eyed his cash - her love was small,
  For cash to her was all in all,
  As click! clack! went the mill.
                          Click! clack! &c.
  
  To church he led her, just as toll'd,
  Ding! dong! the great bell;
  She was young, but he was old,
  Ding! dong! went the bell;
  At church, her head she bashful hung;
  He thought her modest, being young;
  But married, soon he found her tongue,
  For ding! dong! went the bell.
                          Ding! dong! &c.
  
  Grist the miller had a man,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  And he to eye her soon began,
  Click! clack! went the mill;
  Honest Grist went out one day,
  Left man and wife at home to stay;
  When he return'd, the neighbours say,
  That cuckoo! went the clock.
                          Cuckoo! cuckoo! &c.
  
  Old millers all take warning,
  As click! clack! goes the mill;
  Young love you must be scorning,
  As click! clack! goes the mill;
  Young wives will play you many a prank,
  And of your comfort make a blank;
  They'll leave your cheek both lean and lank,
  When cuckoo! goes the clock.
                          Cuckoo! cuckoo! &c.