Lyr Add: Use An' the Abuse; Pitmen an' Preachers

Subject: Use and Abuse ^^
From: Conrad Bladey (Peasant- Inactive)
Date: 09 Mar 00 - 12:47 PM

Use and Abuse

Teetotlers may jaw 'boot the drink as they will,
An' preach till they're black i' the muzzle,
Maw Feyther an' Muther byeth lik'd a good gill,
And their son tee mun weeten his whussel.
Guid yell hes dune mair for to warm a man's breest,
When misfortun' hes cum wiv his hammer,
Than a thoosan' dry sermons frae ranterfied priest,
'At gets paid for his lees an' his yammer.

Folk talk aboot drink: was the grapes sent for nowt
But to stuff i' wor dumplins an' hinnies?
If the goold frae the yerth, man, had niver been browt,
Smash! the mint cuddent coin monny guinnees.
Because a man's hung, mun we myek nee mair twine?
Mun we starve 'cas some fyeulls gormandizes?
If a keel gets upset, mun we shut up the Tyne?
Man! sec humbug yen's reason surprizes.

Aw knaw yen 'at's torn'd a Teetotaller noo,
An 'laps up the fizzify'd wetter:
But aw find, on the slee, he his toddy can brew,
For his beak is to brandy a debtor.
His wife, she gat hauld o' the key ov his box,
Iv a raw the black bottles was pleyc'd in;
Like as fizzick frae doctors, a' labell'd, by gox!
But the wife she gat mortal with tyestin'!

Wey, its deeth, nevvies warse, if to't yell hoose ye gan,
For a glass, an' to hear some fine singin';
They sweer that the lan'lord's the Deevil's best man,
An' the band's nowt but imps ov his bringin'.
Man, they're spited to see that thor hooses hes sprung
Frae the seed o'lang patience an' merit;
Smash! they're awn dizzy consarts is shemfully sung,
For their sangs, like thorsels, hes nee sperrit.

Aw divvent praise fyeulls, that like pigs i' the muck,
Gan gruntin' an' guzzlin' for ivver;
There's nee ' casion to soom i' the drink like a duck,
But just sup what'll meyk a chep clivvor.
Noo, ye knaw varry weel what King Solomon says,
An' he dissent mean gluttons to 'tice man;
"Eat, drink, an' be merry to lenthen your days"--
An', by gox! but aw'll tyek his advice, man.

Click here for the tune. ^^

Subject: Use and Abuse
From: Conrad Bladey (Peasant- Inactive)
Date: 18 Mar 00 - 11:43 AM

Use and Abuse or The Pitman and the Preachers

Teetotlers may jaw 'boot the drink as they will,
An' preach till they're black i' the muzzle,
Maw Feyther an' Muther byeth lik'd a good gill,
And their son tee mun weeten his whussel.
Guid yell hes dune mair for to warm a man's breest,
When misfortun' hes cum wiv his hammer,
Than a thoosan' dry sermons frae ranterfied priest,
'At gets paid for his lees an' his yammer.

Folk talk aboot drink: was the grapes sent for nowt
But to stuff i' wor dumplins an' hinnies?
If the goold frae the yerth, man, had niver been browt,
Smash! the mint cuddent coin monny guinnees.
Because a man's hung, mun we myek nee mair twine?
Mun we starve 'cas some fyeulls gormandizes?
If a keel gets upset, mun we shut up the Tyne?
Man! sec humbug yen's reason surprizes.

Aw knaw yen 'at's torn'd a Teetotaller noo,
An 'laps up the fizzify'd wetter:
But aw find, on the slee, he his toddy can brew,
For his beak is to brandy a debtor.
His wife, she gat hauld o' the key ov his box,
Iv a raw the black bottles was pleyc'd in;
Like as fizzick frae doctors, a' labell'd, by gox!
But the wife she gat mortal with tyestin'!

Wey, its deeth, nevvies warse, if to't yell hoose ye gan,
For a glass, an' to hear some fine singin';
They sweer that the lan'lord's the Deevil's best man,
An' the band's nowt but imps ov his bringin'.
Man, they're spited to see that thor hooses hes sprung
Frae the seed o'lang patience an' merit;
Smash! they're awn dizzy consarts is shemfully sung,
For their sangs, like thorsels, hes nee sperrit.

Aw divvent praise fyeulls, that like pigs i' the muck,
Gan gruntin' an' guzzlin' for ivver;
There's nee ' casion to soom i' the drink like a duck,
But just sup what'll meyk a chep clivvor.
Noo, ye knaw varry weel what King Solomon says,
An' he dissent mean gluttons to 'tice man;
"Eat, drink, an' be merry to lenthen your days"--
An', by gox! but aw'll tyek his advice, man.

- by J.P. Robson; to the tune "Canny Newcassel". Source A Beuk o' Newcassel Sangs.
Joseph Cawhall,

Subject: Lyr Add: The Use An' the Abuse; Pitmen an' Preache
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 17 Jun 04 - 01:42 PM

The Uese An' the Abuse;
or, The Pitmen An' the Preachers

Tune- "Canny Newcassel."

Teeto'lers may jaw 'boot the drink as they will,
An' preach till they're black I' the muzzle;
Maw feyther an' muther byeth lik'd a gud gill,
An' ther son, tee, maun wheeten his whussel.
Gud yell has duen mair for the warm a man's breest,
When Misfortin' hes cum wiv his hammer,
Then a thoosan' dry sarmins frae ranterfied preest,
That gets paid for his lees an' his yammer.

Foaks gob aboot drink' wes the grapes sent for nowt
But te stuff I' wor dumblins an' hinnies?
If the goold ferae the yerth, man, had niver been browt,
Smash! the mint cudn't coin monny ginnies.
Becaws a man's hung, mun we myek he mair twine?
Mun we starve 'cas some fules gormydises?
If a keel gets upset, maun we shut up the Tyne?
Gox! such humbug maw reason surprizes!

Bill Wallis is turn'd a teetotaller, noo.
An' lyeps up the fizzyfled wetter;
But aw find, on the slee, Bill his toddy can brew.
For his beak is to brandy a debtor.
His wife, huiky Fan, gat the key ov his box,
Iv a raw the black bottles were pleyc'd in;
Like as fizik frae doctors, a' labell'd, bi gox!
But poor Fanny gat mortal wiv tyestin'!

Whei, it's deeth, mevies warse, if te Blmbra's ye gan
For a glass, an' te hear the fine singin';
Their sweer that the landlord's the deevil's best man,
An' the band's nowt but imps ov his bringin'.
Man, ther spited te see that the "Wheat Sheaf" hes sprung'
Frae the seeds o' lang pashins an' murit;
Smash! ther awn duzzy consarts is shemfully sung,
For ther sangs, like theresels, hes no spurit.

Aw divent praise fules that, like pigs I' the muck,
Gan gruntin' an' guzlin' for iver;
There's ne cayshun te soom I' the drink like a duck,
But just sup what'll myek a chep clivor.
Noo, ye ken verry weel what King Solyman says,
An' he dissent mean gluttons te 'tice, man:
"Eat, drink, an' be merry, to lengthin yor days"-
An', bi gox! but aw'll tyek his advice, man.

-J.Pl Robson, "Bards of the Tyne,", 1849.

That there is another aspect to the drink question besides this , so glowingly depicted below, Robson himself shows "Maw marras, tyhek warnin be me," of which the following is the first verse, shows it-

Maw Marras, Tyek Warnin' Be Me
Maw shift in this world nobbut lasts a few days,
Then afore stairin' croods aw mun de;
It's on iccont o' my wild drinkin' ways,
Thit the rope o' cawd deth suen'll stop Matty's breeth,
On a life crushin' hang-gallas tree.
Drink, drink was maw bane, aw repeat it again;-

(Last Four Lines)

Oh! fra drink, marras awl, keep awyay, is maw cawl-
Leest, like Matt for fool murder ye dee;
It's the last word aw say- fra strang drink bide away.
O, maw marras, tyek warnin' by me.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Use An' the Abuse; Pitmen an' Pre
From: Uncle_DaveO
Date: 17 Jun 04 - 02:27 PM

Those are great!

Dave Oesterreich

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Use An' the Abuse; Pitmen an' Pre
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 17 Jun 04 - 03:11 PM

Thanks!
More on the way......stay tuned....

Conrad