Lyr Add: Th' Skeul Bord Man

Subject: Th' Skeul Bord Man
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 15 Apr 02 - 11:12 AM

Th' Skeul Bord Man

One morning if haulf-past hite, aw sade te maw bit bairn.
On we thee clais en get off te skeul, for thoo naws thit aw want th' te lairn

Man: Thoo news aw like for te see th' be in time, so thee beuk en thee slate's e th' drawer.

Spoken- Man: Get off te skeul is sharp is ivor thoo can.
Boy: Aw can't gan this mornen.
Man: Thoo cannot gan this mornen! Wats th' mattor wi th?
Boy: Aw he th' tic.
Man: Thor's alwis something th' mattor we th' wen thoo hes to gan te skeul: if thoo dissent gan aw'll be getten a lump of paipor, en it th' boddom thare'll be ritten on-

Chorus

Send your bairns te skeul, lairn thim aul ye can;
Send your bairns te skeul, lairn thim aul ye can;
Scholorship is e faithful friend, en yil nivor see th' Skeul Bord man
(when repeated leave off first line)

Boy: Aw've been vary bad for e week.
Man: Wei, aw thowt thoo'd getten th' torn; En if aw let thee bide et yem th' dae.
Boy: Wei, aw'll trie for te gan th' morn.
Man: If thoo bides it yem th'dae, th' morn aw'll muaik thee gan. For thoo naws vary weel th' next thing we'll get, is e summons freh th' Skeul board man.

Spoken—Hees Uncil Jack gat e summons th' tuthor day, but th' canny aud judge set im cleer effor he pade sivin-en-sixpence, en he teld them if he didn't send hees bairns te skeul, en wis browt te Lanchestor eguain, he wid get hees sivin-en-sixpence back—mebbee. So wen he com away he wis singen-

Chorus

So it apint that very dae. Boy: Wen aw wis plain it th' dor.
Man: Thare wis ae man, wiv e buek iv hees hand, thit aw nivor seed before;
So aw kindly invited im in, en te tauk he seun began;
Aw suen gat te naw, be th' soond ifv hees jaw, thit he wis th' Skeul Bord man.

Spoken-He nockt it th' dor.  Aw shoots, Cum in. In he cums he sis Gud mornen, Mistor Airmstrang. Aw said, hould on, thoo's getten te th' rang hoose. But he wadint be stopt; he sais, Hoo meny children heh thoo got? Aw sais, Man, that's en impitint question.  He sais, Well, but you know what I mean; I mean how many have you had? Aw sais. Be oot e this, or aw'll vacsinate th'. So he tornd te wor Bess, en saiss. What family have you had. She sais, We've ad two put hes fuaice eguain th' window en sais—

Chorus:

Man: Wen aw axt im te sit doon—No aw've got nee time to spare; Aw've been at skeul en lookt throu th' books .
Boy: en aw warnd thor's e lot not thare.
Man: Ye can tuaik maw word freh th' day, te skeul he'll heve to gan.
Boy: Aw shoor aw will, for aw's flade te deed wen aw meet we th' Skeul Bord man.

Spoken—He hes awl th' bairns e th' cuntry side flade te deed, en not only th' bairns but thor fethors en muthors disint care eboot seein im.  He sent poor Billy Potts e summons th' tuthor week for thair little Bob being off Skeul haulf e shift, en fined im five shillen en costs.  Hee's been off hes meet ivor since, en that's e bad job, for im, for th' mare he eats th' mare checks he gets.  Aw met im th' tuithor dae; aw wis sorry for him, awl he cud sae wis-

Chorus:

Man: Noo, aw want th' te gan te skeul.
 Boy: Yis en aw alwis gan.
Man: Aw want th' te be a bettor scolar than me—that is if aw possibly can.
Boy: If ye hadint e plade th' troon wen like me ye wair yung:
Ye wid muaid bettor sangs, en poatry tee, en your sangs wid e been bettor sung.

Spoken—Aw sae, wat memory's bairns hes!  Thor wis an aud skeul-mate e mine come inte wor hoose one dae next week, when aw wasint in, en we gat on e tauken aoboot plaen th' troon e wor yung daes. Aw nivor noatessed im being in, becaws he wis oot it th' time. But shoor enug aw wis e bad scholar.  Aw once put buaith stockens on te one lef, en eftor that aw went to th' neet skeul three weeks throo th'  dae tiv aw wis muaid perfect; en noo aw kin read a publick-hoose sine is weel is onybody, en gan in en stop in lang is onybody; en aw think it's maw duty, since aw've fund see much gud freh educaisoon, te tell ye thit hes bairns for te-

Chorus:
 
 

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