The mayster longith a lityll, and lascheth a lesse,
Twineth him tweyn and towcheth a treble,
Tik! tab! hic! hac! tiket! taket! tyk! tak!
Lus! bus! Las! das! swych lyf thei ledyn.
St. Clement is the patron of blacksmiths, and while Brand’s account of the festivities gives no refrain, but only poor doggerel and mimicry, it is clear that processions, songs, and dances were a feature of the saint’s day,[[673]] once regarded as the beginning of winter; so that communal origins may even lurk in the traditional anvil song, quoted by Dickens,[[674]] “that imitated the measure of beating upon iron, and was a mere lyrical excuse for the introduction of Old Clem’s respected name”:—
Hammer, boys, round—Old Clem,
With a thump and a sound—Old Clem.
Again, there is the tinker with his catches, which moved Overbury[[675]] to a theory of origins; “from his art was music first invented, and therefore is he alwaies furnished with a song,” to which his hammer keeps time. Of course, the only point of interest in these songs of the trades is the survival of a refrain which carries the sound and cadence of the work itself. Thus in the old play of Tom Tiler and his Wife, it is probable that an actual refrain has crept into the lively song of which Dame Strife sings the first staff, with its
Tom Tiler, Tom Tiler,
More morter for Tom Tiler, ...