Subject: The Pitman's Ramble
From:
Conrad Bladey (Peasant- Inactive)
Date: 08 May 00 - 01:34 PM
The Pitman's Ramble
Or Newcastle Finerey Ho! lizzen, aw ye neybors roun,
Yor clappers haud and pipes lay doon;
Aw've had a swagger through the toon
Yen morning aw went suen ti'd
Ye see, aw fand aw wasn't thrang,
Sae to Newcassel aw wad gang:
Aw's lap't a' up, just like a sang,
And try to put a tune ti'd Bad times they'e now, yen weel may say;
Aw've seen when on a markent day,
Wiv wor toon's cheeps aw'd drink away,
And carry on the war, man:
But now yen staups an' stares aboot,
To see what's strange to carry oot;
Brass letters fassen'd on a cloot,
A unicorn, or star, man. Ye see, aw thowt they were to sell;
So ax'd the chep, if he cud tell,
What he wasd tyek for C nad L,
To nail upon maw hen hoose;
But he insisted, smash his crop!
Aw'd like a fule mistyen the shop;
And bad me quickly off te hop,
He'd bowt them for his awn use. He flang maw hump sae out o' joint,
Sae, smash! aw thowt aw'd hev a pint!
But when aw gat te Peterpoint,
The chep that sells the candy,
The folks luik'd if a wiv greedy wish,
He'd bonny siller in a dish;
And just abuin, twee bits of fish
Was sweeming, fine as can be. The tyen was like Hob Fewster's cowt,
A' spreckled round about the snout,
They flapp'd their tails aboot like owt,
Quite full o' gamalerie;
And then the munny shin'd sae breet,
The greet Tome Cat wad hev a peep,
And paunder'd tiv he fell asleep;
The silly thing was weary. Sae farther up aw teuk my cruize,
And luik'd amang the buits and shoes;
Where yen aw thowt they did ill use,
It sweem'd, aye, like a dazy;
Saws aw, How! man, what's thou aboot?
Weyu, cum and tyek that slipper oot;
Tho, s flay'd away the sammun trout;
Says he, Young man, thous's crazy! Had aw not been a patient chap,
Aw wad hae feth'd him sike a rap,
As that which daver'd poor au'd Cap;*
But, faith! the Kitty scar'd me;
Sae whisht aw grew; for, efter that,
Iv a lairge glass bowl, byeth round and flat,
Aw spied a maccaroni hat,
But at maw peril dar'd me. Sae, efter dark, up Pilgrim-street,
The fine Gas Leeters shin'd sae breet,
That if a bonny lass ye meet,
Ye'd ken her varry features;
When pipes are laid, and a' things duen,
They say Newcassel, varry suen,
Will darken, aye, the varry muin,
A' wi' thor fine Gas Leeters. *A reference to the song called Cappy or the Pitman's Dog.
-In: The Newcastle Song Book or Tyne-Side Songster., W&T Fordyce
Newcastle Upon Tyne.
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