Subject: Joey Jones
From:
Conrad Bladey (Peasant- Inactive)
Date: 01 Apr 00 - 10:07 AM
Joey Jones
Tune= Pat of Mullingar Aw'm gan ti sing ye a sang,
If ye'll but list ti' me
Aw divent intent ti'keep ye lang,
An' that ye'll plainly see;
Its all aboot young Joey Jones
He wun the Northumberland Plate,
He was bred at Deckham Hall,
Just up throo the gate Chorus:
For he jogs along, he canter'd along,
He lick'd them all see fine,
He was bred at Gyetshead,
He's the pride of Coaly Tyne. Joey ran at the spring meetings.He was beaten by the Jim,
Hadlow, that belangs Gaylad,
Said Joey wasn't game;
So they sent him off ti' Richmond,
Twas known he wasn't right,
Then Watson fetched him here,
An' gov them a regular Yorkshire bite. Noo when the horses started,
An' was cumin past the stand,
Sum shooted oot for Peggy Taft,
And some for Underhand;
An' when they reached the top o'
the hill,
Doyle heard Tom Aldercroft say
Aw dare lay a fiver that
Aw win thi' plate thi-day! Cumin roond he Morpeth turn,
Joey keepin' up his fame
Says Doyle ti Tommy Aldcroft-
Noo wha's yor little game?
Says Aldcroft-Aw mean ti' win
The Plate this very day!
Yes but says Doyle it's Joey Jones,
A fiver aw will lay. Number eleven was puttin up.
The people stood amazed.
Fobert he luiked vary white,
An Jackson almost crazed;
Little Osborne luiked for his Wildman,
An'Sharpe for Volatile
Doefoot got a nasty kick,
An' Joey wun in style. -George Ridley
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