Part 63 (1/2)
Tune--”Skipper Carr and Marky Dunn.”
As aw was gannen out yen neet,-- It happen'd in the dark, man,-- A chep cam up ga' me a freet, 'Twas little Skipper Clark, man: His fyece was white as ony clout, Says aw, what hae ye been about?
He gyep'd at me, and gav a shout, O d.i.c.k, I've seen the Deil, man!
Awd Nick had twee great goggle eyes, And horns upon his heed, man, He had a gob,--aye, sic a size, It flay'd me near to deed, man!
His eyes were like twee burning coals, His mouth like one o' wor pit-holes, His horns were like twee crooked poles,-- Aw'm sure it was the Deil, man!
Aw'd often heard wor preacher tell That Awd Nick had twee club-feet,-- Thinks aw, aw'll ken the neet mysel', Whether wor preacher's wrang or reet: With that aw gav a luik about-- The club-feet was there without a doubt; And just wi' that he gav a shout-- And aw'm sure it was the Deil, man.
Od smas.h.!.+ says aw, aw've often heard About this mighty Deil, man,-- Shew me the place where he appear'd, For aw'd like to see him weel, man?
Then d.i.c.k he tuik me to the place, Where he had seen his awful fyece-- And still he swore it was the case, That he had seen the Deil, man.
Alang wi' d.i.c.k aw hitch'd about To see this mighty Deil, man, When just with that d.i.c.k gav a shout-- Luik there! thou'll see him weel, man; But when of him aw'd got a view, Aw laugh'd till aw was black and blue, For it was nought but a great black cow That d.i.c.k tuik for the Deil, man.
J. N.
SANDGATE PANT;
Or, JANE JEMIESON'S GHOST.
BY R. EMERY.
Tune--”I'd be a b.u.t.terfly.”
The bell of St. Ann's toll'd two in the morning, As brave Skipper Johnson was gawn to the keel-- From the juice of the barley his poor brain was burning-- In search of relief he through Sandgate did reel; The city was hush, save the keel-bullies' snoring-- The moon faintly gleam'd through the sable-clad sky-- When lo! a poor female her hard fate deploring, Appear'd near the pant, and thus loudly did cry:-- Ripe Chenee oranges, four for a penny!
Cherry ripe cornberries--taste them and try!
O listen, ye hero of Sandgate and Stella, Jin Jemieson kens that yor courage is trig, Go tell Billy Elli to meet me, brave fellow-- Aw'll wait yor return on Newca.s.sel Tyne Brig!-- Oh, marcy! cried Johnson, yor looks gar me s.h.i.+ver!
Maw canny la.s.s, Jin, let me fetch him next tide; The spectre then frown'd--and he vanish'd for ever, While Sandgate did ring as she vengefully cried-- Fine Chenee oranges, four for a penny!
Cherry ripe cornberries--taste them and try!
She waits for her lover, each night at this station, And calls her ripe fruit with a voice loud and clear; The keel-bullies listen in great consternation-- Tho' snug in their huddocks, they tremble with fear!
She sports round the pant till the c.o.c.k, in the morning, Announces the day--then away she does fly Till midnight's dread hour--thus each maiden's peace scorning, They start from their couch as they hear her loud cry-- Fine Chenee oranges, four for a penny!
Cherry ripe cornberries--taste them and try!
THE BIRTH-DAY OF QUEEN VICTORIA:
A new Song, intended to be sung on board the Stewards' Barge on Ascension Day, May 24th, 1838.
THOMAS EMERSON HEADLAM, ESQ., MAYOR. JOHN CARR, ESQ., SHERIFF.
Hurrah for Old England, her Queen, and her laws!
Hurrah for all hearts that are true in the cause!
Hurrah for Newcastle! Hurrah for the Mayor!
Hurrah for the Tyne--its banks bustling and fair!