Subject: On Simpson the Pedestrian's Failure
From:
Conrad Bladey (Peasant- Inactive)
Date: 13 Jun 00 - 04:00 PM
On Simpson the Pedestrian's Failure
tune- Barbary Bell Sitting crush'd i' the huddock a' gobbing and talking,
We were mov'd wiv a spoke frae the little Pee Dee;
Ah! Skipper, he says, the auld man 'ill be walking,
So we a' rose together and set off to see.
When we gat to the Moor, he was dodging away, man,
Wi' twe cheps on each side, keeping a' the folks back;
And the bairns running after him, shouting hurra, man,
So we just gat agliff, for he pass'd in a crack. Now Barney M'Mullin, his reet hand protector,
With a sprig o' shilelagh preparing the way,
Was stopt on the road by a publican hector,
Who hinted that Barney intended foul play.
If Barney mov'd forward he threaten'd to drop him,
For his walking, he said, put the man off his pace;
But Barney concluded he'd ne right to stop him,
And call'd him a big-gutted rogue to his face. Every Freeman, says Barney, of land has a small stock,
but to dunch people off is most rascally mean;
Then their rights were protected by bold Tommy Alcock,
Who said he'd a share of the pasture sae green.
When Tommy put on his election-day swagger,
His genteel appearance made Barney's tongue cease,
His speech was sae pointed, it pierc'd like a dagger:
So Barney, poor soul, he departed in peace. We stopt there a' neet, till weel on i' the morning,
Expecing he still wad keep dodging away;
But he gav us the double, without ony warning,
And hodg'd off the Moor, like a sheep gyen astray.
When he enter'd the tent, we were a' sitting drinking.
It was thought he had come to get something to eat;
But now it apears the poor soul had been thinking
On the best ways and means to obtain a retreat. It seems the auld man had nae notion of stopping,
But as to what ail'd him, he knaws best his sel;
For whether he fail'd in his wind, strength, or bottom,
The skipper and I were baith puzzled to tell.
But it's owre and deun, so what signifies talking,
Poor man, he must just lay his fist to the spade;
Let them that think fit make their living by walking,
For this par he's fund it's a very bad trade. -In: The Newcastle Song Book or Tyne-Side Songster., W&T Fordyce
Newcastle Upon Tyne.
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