Part 3

Says aw, Divent laugh at poor folks, But gan and bring some o' yur Jackey; Aw want nyen o' yur jibes or jokes, I' th' mean time aw'll tyek a bit backey. Aw just tuik a chew o' pig-tail, She brought in this Jackey sae funny: Says she, Sir, that's better than ale, And held out her hand for the money. Rum te idity, &c.

There's three-pence to pay, if you please: Aw star'd and aw gap'd like a ninny; Od smash thee! aw'll sit at my ease, And not stir till aw've spent a half ginny. Aw sat and aw drank till quite blind, Then aw gat up to gan to the door, But deil smash a door could aw find! And fell flat o' maw fyece on the floor. Rum te idity, &c.

There aw lay for ever sae lang, And dreamt about rivers and ditches; When waken'd, was singing this sang-- 'Smash, Jackey, thou's wet a' me breeches!' An' faith! but the sang it was true, For Jackey had been sae prevailing. He'd whistled himsel' quickly through, And the chairs and tables were sailing. Rum te idity, &c.

Then rising, aw went maw ways hyem, Aw knock'd at the door, and cry'd Jenny! Says she, Canny man, is te lyem, Or been wading in Tyne, maw hinny? I' troth, she was like for to dee, And just by the way to relieve her, The water's been wading through me, And this Jackey's a gay deceiver. Rum te idity, &c.

If e'er aw drink Jackey agyen, May the bitch of a lass, maw adviser, Lowp alive down maw throat, with a styen As big as a pulveriser. Rum te idity, &c.

THE LITTLE PEE DEE.

'Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow, There cam on a varry strang gale, The Skipper luik'd out o' the huddock, Crying, 'Smash, man, lower the sail! Smash, man, lower the sail! Or else to the bottom we'll go! The keel and a' hands wad been lost, Had it not been for Jemmy Munro. Fal lal la, &c.

The gale blew stranger and stranger, When they cam beside the Muck House, The Skipper cried out--'Jemmy, swing 'er!' But still was as fear'd as a mouse. Pee Dee ran to clear the anchor, 'It's raffled!' right loudly he roar'd:-- They a' said the gale wad sink her, If it wasn't seun thrawn overboard.

The laddie ran sweaten, ran sweaten, The laddie ran sweaten about; Till the keel went bump against Jarrow, And three o' the bullies lap out: Three o' the bullies lap out, And left nyen in but little Pee Dee; Who ran about stamping and crying-- 'How! smash, Skipper, what mun aw dee?'

They all shouted out frae the Kee, 'Steer her close in by the shore; And then thraw the painter to me, Thou cat-fyec'd son of a whore!' The lad threw the painter ashore, They fasten'd her up to the Kee: But whe knaws how far she meyt gyen, Had it not been for Little Pee Dee.

Then into the huddock they gat, And the flesh they began to fry: They talk'd o' the gale as they sat, How a' hands were lost--varry nigh. The Skipper roar'd out for a drink, Pee Dee ran to bring him the can: But odsmash, mun! what d'ye think?-- He cowp'd a' the flesh out o' the pan! Fal lal la, &c.

THE TYNE COSSACKS.

Not long ago, a fray in Shields And Sunderland began, 'Tween the Seamen and Ship-owners, How their vessels they should man; But the Owners stiff, to them were deaf, Which made the Seamen for to grumble, For our Tyne Cossacks they soon did send, The haughty pride of Jack to humble. Whack row de dow, &c.

A letter being sent, they were Call'd out without delay; But the Gen'ral thought he'd try their skill Before they went away: So round the Moor he made them scour, Before him cut such wond'rous capers; Their praise he sounded high and low, In all the three Newcassel Papers. Whack row de dow, &c.

He cries, My lads, you're qualified To do such wond'rous feats, That to Shields and Cleadon you must go, To clear the lanes and streets; Destroy all those who may oppose The ships from sailing down the river, And then our Prince will sure commend Your deeds in arms, my boys, so clever. Whack row de dow, &c.

The Butcher cries, if we begin, We'll surely kill and slay; The Tanner swore they'd tan their hides, Before they came away; A Tailor next, with fear perplext, Said, he should like no other station, Than to be the Doctor's waiting man, If sanction'd by the Corporation. Whack row de dow, &c.

To Shields they got, tho' much fatigued, Upon their worn-out hacks, Some cried, 'The Polish Lancers come!' And others, 'Tyne's Cossacks!' By some mishap, the Farrier's cap Blew off, but met with coolish treatment, Into a huckster's shop it went-- Now Martin's cap's a tatie beatment. Whack row de dow, &c.

For several weeks they rode about, Like poachers seeking game; The Marines so bold, as I am told, Had better sight than them; For every boat that was afloat, They seiz'd upon with mad-like fury, And to the bottom sent them straight, Not asking either Judge or Jury. Whack row de dow, &c.

The deed was done by this effort, All opposition gone, The ardour of the heroes cool'd, 'Cause they were lookers on: Odsmash! says yen, if e'er agyen There's ony mair au'd boats to smatter, We'll hev horses that's web-footed, then We'll fight byeth on the land and watter. Whack row de dow, &c.

Now should our Tyne Cossacks e'er have To face their enemies, They'll boldly meet them on the land, Or on the stormy seas. While the farmers sing, that they, next spring, At spreading dung will ne'er be idle: So--success to these Invincibles, Their long swords, sadle, bridle. Whack row de dow, &c.

THE PITMAN'S REVENGE

_Against Buonaparte._

Ha' ye heard o' these wondrous Dons, That myeks this mighty fuss, man, About invading Britain's land? I vow they're wondrous spruce, man: But little do the Frenchmen ken About our loyal Englishmen; Our Collier lads are for cockades, And guns to shoot the French, man. Tol lol de rol, de rol de rol.

Then to parade the Pitmen went, Wi' hearts byeth stout an' strang, man; Gad smash the French! we are sae strang, We'll shoot them every one, man! Gad smash me sark! if aw wad stick To tumble them a' down the pit, As fast as aw could thraw a coal, Aw'd tumble them a' doon the hole, An' close her in abuin, man. Tol lol de rol, &c.

Heads up! says yen, ye silly sow, Ye dinna mind the word, man: Eyes right! says Tom, and wi' a dam, And march off at the word, man: Did ever mortals see sic brutes, To order me to lift me cutes! Ad smash the fuil! he stands and talks, How can he learn me to walk, That's walk'd this forty year, man! Tol lol de rol, &c.

But should the Frenchmen shew their fyece, Upon our waggon-ways, man, Then, there upon the road, ye knaw, We'd myek them end their days, man: Aye, Bonaparte's sel aw'd tyek, And thraw him i' the burning heap, And wi' greet speed aw'd roast him deed; His marrows, then, aw wad nae heed, We'd pick out a' their e'en, man. Tol lol de rol, &c.

Says Willy Dunn to loyal Tom, Your words are all a joke, man; For Geordy winna hae your help, Ye're sic kamstarie folk, man: Then Willy, lad, we'll rest in peace, In hopes that a' the wars may cease; But awse gi'e ye Wull, to understand, As lang as aw can wield me hand, There's nyen but George shall reign, man. Tol lol de rol, &c.

Enough of this hes sure been said, Cry'd cowardly Willy Dunn, man; For should the Frenchmen come this way, We'd be ready for to run, man. Gad smash you, for a fuil! says Tom, For if aw could not use me gun, Aw'd tyek me pick, aw'd hew them doon, And run and cry, through a' the toon, God save greet George our King, man! Tol lol de rol, &c.

BOB CRANKY'S 'SIZE SUNDAY.

Ho'way and aw'll sing thee a tune, man, 'Bout huz seein my Lord at the toon, man: Aw's seer aw was smart, now Aw'll lay thee a quart, now, Nyen them a' cut a dash like Bob Cranky!

When aw pat on maw blue coat that shines sae, Me jacket wi' posies sae fine, sae, Maw sark sic sma' threed, man, Maw pig-tail sae greet, man! Od smash! what a buck was Bob Cranky!

Blue stockings, white clocks, and reed garters, Yellow breeks, and me shoon wi' lang quarters, Aw myed wor bairns cry, Eh! sarties! ni! ni! Sic varry fine things had Bob Cranky.

Aw went to au'd Tom's and fand Nancy; Kiv aw, Lass, thou's myed to my fancy! Aw like thou as weel As a stannin pye heel, Ho'way to thee toon wi' Bob Cranky.

As up Jenny's backside we were bangin, Ki' Geordy, How! where are ye gannin? Wey t' see my Lord Sizes, But ye shanna gan aside us, For ye're not half sae fine as Bob Cranky.

Ki' Geordy, We leeve i' yen raw, wyet, I' yen corf we byeth gan belaw, wyet, At a' things aw've play'd, And to hew, aw'm not flaid, Wi' sic in a chep as Bob Cranky.

Bob hez thee at lowpin and flingin, At the bool, foot-ball, clubby, and swingin: Can ye jump up and shuffle, And cross owre the buckle, When ye dance, like the cliver Bob Cranky.

Thou knaws i' my hoggers and drawers, Aw'm nyen o' your scarters and clawers: Frae the trap door bit laddie T' the spletter his daddie, Nyen handles the pick like Bob Cranky.

Sae, Geordy, od smash my pit sark! Thou'd best haud thee whisht about wark, Or aw'll sobble thee body, And myek thee nose bloody, If thou sets up thee gob to Bob Cranky.

Nan laugh'd--to church we gat without 'im; The great crowd, becrike, how aw hew'd 'em! Smasht a keel-bully roar'd, Clear the road! whilk's my Lord? Half sae high as the noble Bob Cranky.

Aw lup up, and catch'd just a short gliff O' Lord Trials, the Trumpets and Sheriff, Wi' the little bit mannies, Sae fine and sae canny, Ods heft! what a seet for Bob Cranky!

Then away we set off to the yell-hoose, Wiv a few hearty lasses an' fellows: Aw tell'd ower the wig, Sae curl'd and sae big; For nyen saw't sae weel as Bob Cranky.

Aw gat drunk, fit, and kick'd up a racket, Rove me breeks and spoil'd a' me fine jacket; Nan cry'd and she cuddled, Maw hinny thou's fuddled, Ho'way hyem, now me bonny Bob Cranky!

So we stagger'd alang frae the toon, mun, Whiles gannin, whiles byeth fairly down, mun; Smash, a banksman or hewer, No, not a fine viewer, Durst jaw to the noble Bob Cranky.

What care aw for maw new suit, i' tatters, Twee blaek een--od smash a' sic matters! When me Lord comes agyen, mun, Aw'll strive, ev'ry byen, mun, To bang a' wor consarn, ki Bob Cranky.

O' the flesh an' breed day, when wor bun, mun, Aw'll buy claes far bonnier thau thou, mun; For, od smash my nyavel! As lang as wor yebble, Let's keep up the day! ki Bob Cranky.

BOB CRANKY'S LEUM'NATION NEET.

Lord 'Sizes leuks weel in coach shinin', Whese wig wad let Nan's heed an' mine in; But a bonnier seet, Was the Leum'nation neet-- It dazzled the een o' Bob Cranky.

Aboot seven aw gov ower warkin, Gat beard off, and put a white sark on; For Newcasslers, thowt aw, Giff they dinna see me braw, Will say 'What a gowk is Bob Cranky!'

A ran to the toon without stoppin', An' fand ilka street like a hoppin; An' the folks stood sae thick, Aw sair wish'd for maw pick, To hew oot a way for Bob Cranky.

The guns then went off frae the Cassel, Seun windors wur a' in a dazzle; Ilka place was like day, Aw then shouted, 'Hurray! There's plenty an' peace for Bob Cranky!'

Sum windors had pictures sae bonny! Wi' sma' lamps aw can't tell how mony; Te count them, aw'm sure, Wad bother the Viewer-- A greater Goggriffer than Cranky.

Aw see'd croons myed o' lamps blue an' reed, Whilk aw wad na like to put on my heed! 'G. P. R.' aw see'd next, For wor Geordy Prince Rex:-- Nyen spelt it sae weel as Bob Cranky.

Sum had anchors of leet high hung up, To shew folk greet Bonny was deun up; But, far as aw see, man, As reet it wad be, man, To leet up the pick o' Bob Cranky.

A leg of meat sed, 'Doon aw's cummin!' But sum chep aw suen fand was hummin; For aw stopp'd bit belaw, Haudin oot a lang paw, But mutton cam ne nearer Cranky.

A cask on the Vicar's pump top, man, Markt 'Plenty an' Peace,' gard me stop, man: Thinks aw te mesel, Aw's here get sum yell, But only cau'd waiter gat Cranky.

Bonny, shav'd biv a bear, was then shot, man; And biv Auld Nick weel thump'd in a pot, man; But aw thowt a' the toon Shuddent lick him when doon, Tho' he'd a greet spite to Bob Cranky.

Yen Price had the cream o' the bowl, man, Wi' goold lamps clagg'd close cheek by jowl, man: It was sick a fine seet, Aw could glower'd a' neet, Had fu' been the wame o' Bob Cranky.

Ne mair seed aw till signal gun fired, Out went the leets, an' hyem aw gat, tired: Nan ax'd 'bout Leum'nations, Aw bad her hae patience, An' first fetch sum flesh to Bob Cranky.

Aw tell'd her what news aw had heerd, man, That shuggar was sixpence a pund, man; An' good beef at a groat:-- Then wor Nan clear'd her throat, An' shooted oot, 'Plenty for Cranky!'

'Twas a' lees--for when Nan gang'd te toon, An' for yen pund a sixpence pat doon; Frae shop she was winnin', When Grosser, deuce bin him! Teuk a' the cheap shuggar frae Cranky.

But gif _Peace_ brings another gran' neet, Aw think folk shou'd hae _Plenty_ te eat: _Singin' hinnies_, aw'm shoor, An' strang yell at the door, Wad better nor candles please Cranky.

Then agyen, what a shem an' a sin! Te the Pitt dinner nyen ax'd me in: Yet aw work like a Turk, Byeth wi' pick, knife, an' fork-- An' whe's mair a _Pittite_ nor Cranky.

Or what could ye a' dee without me, When cau'd ice and snaw com aboot ye? Then sair ye wad shiver, For a' ye're sae cliver, An' lang for the pick o' Bob Cranky!

THE PITMAN'S SKELLYSCOPE.

Oh! Tommy, lad, howay! aw's myek thou full o' play; Aw'm sartin that thou'll byeth skip and lowpy-O: Aw've sic a bonny thing, an' it's myed o' glass an' tin, An' they say it's nyem's a bonny Gleediscowpy-O. Skellyscowpy-O, &c.

A gawn alang the Close, a bit laddy cock'd his nose, An' was keekin throud' aside the Jabel Growpey-O: Aw fand that he wad sell'd; sae, odsmash! aw'm proud te tell'd! For twee shillin' bowt his bonny Gleediscowpey-O.

Wey, then aw ran off hyem--Nan thowt me myekin gyem; Said, my Deavy[1] for a new aw'd had a cowpey-O: But she gurn'd, aye, like a sweeper, when aw held it tiv her peeper, See'd church-windors through my bonny Gleediscowpey-O.

Then the bairns they ran like sheep, a' strove to hev a peep, Frae the audest lass, aye doon to the dowpey-O: There Dick dang ower Cud, myed his nose gush out o' blood, As he ran to see the bonny Gleediscowpey-O.

There was dwiney little Peg, not sae nimmel i' the leg, Ower the three-footed stuil gat sic a cowpey-O; And Sandy wiv his beak, myed a lump i' mother's cheek, Climbin up to see the bonny Gleediscowpey-O.

But she held it tiv her e'e, aye, till she could hardly see, Oh! then aboot the markettin she thowty-O: Wey, Lukey, man! says she, 'stead o' shuggar, flesh, an' tea, Thou's fetch'd us hyem thy bonny Gleediscowpey-O.

She struck me wi' surprise while she skelly'd wiv her eyes, And aw spak as if aw'd gettin a bit rowpey-O. So, neighbours, tyek a hint, if ye peep ower lang ye'll squint, For aw think they're reetly nyem'd a Gleediscowpey-O.

Footnote 1: A term for the Safety Lamp.

THE BONNY KEEL LADDIE.

Maw bonny keel laddie, maw canny keel laddie, Maw bonny keel laddie for me, O! He sits in his keel, as black as the Deil, And he brings the white money to me, O.

Ha' ye seen owt o' maw canny man, An' are ye sure he's weel, O? He's gyen ower land, wiv a stick in his hand, To help to moor the keel, O.

The canny keel laddie, the bonny keel laddie, The canny keel laddie for me, O; He sits in his huddock, and claws his bare buddock, And brings the white money to me, O.

MAW CANNY HINNY.

Where hest te been, maw canny hinny? An' where hest te been, maw bonny bairn? Aw was up an' doon seeking for maw hinny, Aw was through the toon seekin for maw bairn: Aw went up the Butcher Bank and doon Grundin Chare, Caw'd at the Dun Cow, but aw cuddent find thee there.

Where hest te been, maw canny hinny? An' where hest te been, maw bonny bairn, &c.

Then aw went t' th' Cassel-garth and caw'd on Johnny Fife. The beer drawer tell'd me she ne'er saw thee in her life. Where hest te been, &c.

Then aw went into the Three Bulls' Heads, and down the Lang Stairs, And a' the way alang the Close, as far as Mr. Mayor's. Where hest te been, &c.

Fra there aw went alang the Brig, and up to Jackson's Chare, Then back agyen to the Cross Keys, but cuddent find thee there. Where hest te been, &c.

Then comin out o' Pipergate, aw met wi' Willy Rigg, Whe tell'd me that he saw the stannen p----n on the Brig Where hest te been, &c.

Cummin alang the Brig agyen, aw met wi' Cristy Gee, He tell'd me that he saw thee gannin down Humes's Entery. Where hest te been, &c.

Where hev aw been! aw seun can tell ye that; Cummin up the Kee, aw met wi' Peter Pratt; Meetin Peter Pratt, we met wi' Tommy Wear, And went to Humes's t' get a gill o' beer.

There's where aw've been, maw canny hinny, There's where aw've been, maw bonny lamb! Wast tu up an' down, seekin for thee hinny? Wast tu up an' down, seekin for thee lamb?

Then aw met yur Ben, and we were like to fight, And when we cam to Sandgate it was pick night; Crossin the road, aw met wi' Bobby Swinny.-- Hing on the girdle, let's hev a singin hinny.

A' me sorrow's ower now aw've fund maw hinny; A' me sorrow's ower now aw've fund maw bairn; Lang may aw shoot, Maw canny hinny! Lang may aw shoot, Maw bonny bairn!

BOB CRANKY'S ACCOUNT

_Of the Ascent of Mr. Sadler's Balloon, from Newcastle, Sept. 1, 1815._

Ho'way, a' me marrows, big, little, and drest, The first of a' seets may be seen; It's the Balloon, man, see greet! aye, faiks! it's ne jest, Tho' it seems, a' the warld, like a dream. Aw read iv the papers, by gocks! aw remember, It's to flee without wings i' the air, On this varry Friday, the furst of September, Be it cloudy, wet weather, or fair.

And a man, mun, there means, in this varry Balloon, Above, 'mang the stars to fly, And to haud a converse wi' the man i' the moon, And cockwebs to soop frae the sky. So we started frae hyem by eight i' the morn, Byeth faither and mother and son, But fand a' wor neighbours had started before, To get in good time for the fun.

The lanes were a' crouded, some riding, some walking, Aw ne'er see'd the like iv my life; 'Twas bedlam broke oot, aw thowt by their talking, Every bairn, lad, lass, and the wife. The folks at the winders a' jeer'd as we past, An' thowt' a' wor numbers surprisin; They star'd and they glower'd, and axed in jest, Are all of ye pitmen a rising?

Aw fand, at the toon, te, the shops a' shut up, And the streets wi' folks were sae flocken; The walls wi' Balloon papers sae closely clagg'd up, Be cavers! it luckt like a hoppen. A fellow was turnin it a' into a joke, Another was a' the folks hummin, While a third said, it was a bag full o' smoke, That ower wor heeds was a cummin.

To the furst o' these cheps, says aw, Nyen o' yur fun, Or aw'll lay thee at length on the styens, Or thy teeth aw'll beat oot, as sure as a gun, And mevies aw'll chowk ye wi' byens. To the beak o' the second aw held up me fist, D--mn! aw'll bray ye as black as a craw, Aw'll knock oot yur e'e, if aw don't aw'll be kist, An' mump a' the slack o' yur jaw.

Aw pat them to reets, an' onward aw steer'd, An' wonder'd the folks aw had see'd, But a' was palaver that ever aw heurd, So aw walk'd on as other folk did. At last aw gat up on the top o' sum sheds, Biv the help of an au'd crazy lether; An' ower the tops o' ten thousand folks' heads, Aw suen gat a gliff o' the blether.

D--mn, a blether aw call it! by gocks, aw am reet, For o' silk dipt iv leadeater melted It's myed of, an' Lord! what a wonderful seet, When the gun tell'd that it was _filated_. 'Twas just like the boiler at wor Bella Pit, O'er which were a great cabbage net, Which fasten'd, by a parcel of strings sae fit, A corf for the mannie to sit.

As aw sat at me ease aw cud hear a' the folk Gie their notions about the Balloon; Aw thowt aw shud brust when aw heurd their strange talk, Aboot the man's gaun to the moon. Says yen, iv a whisper, Aw think aw hev heurd He is carryin a letter to Bonny, That's ower the sea to flee like a burd; The thowt, by my jinkers! was funny.

A chep wiv a fyece like a poor country bumpkin, Sed he heurd, but may hap tisent true, That the thing whilk they saw was a great silken pumpkin By me eye, what a lilly-ba-loo! Another said, Sadler (for that is the nyem O' the man) may pay dear for his frolic, When he's up iv the clouds (a stree for his fame!) His guts may have twangs of the cholic.

The man a' this time the great blether was filling, Wiv stuff that wad myed a dog sick, It smelt just as though they were garvage distilling, Till at length it was full as a tick. They next strain'd the ropes to keep the thing steady, Put colley and drams iv the boat; Then crack went the cannon, to say it was ready, An' aw see'd the blether afloat.