Soa Tommy got t’ better of t’ bargin, a vast,
An’ cam off wi’ a Yorkshireman’s triumph at last;
For thof ’twixt deead horses there’s not mitch to choose,
Yet Tommy war richer by t’ hide an’ fower shooes.
THE KING AND THE COUNTRYMAN.
[This popular favourite is a mere abridgment and alteration of a poem preserved in the Roxburgh Collection, called The King and Northern Man, shewing how a poor Northumberland man (tenant to the King) being wronged by a lawyer (his neighbour) went to the King himself to make known his grievance. To the tune of Slut. Printed by and for Alex. Melbourne, at the Stationer’s Arms in Green Arbour Court, in the Little Old Baily. The Percy Society printed The King and Northern Man from an edition published in 1640. There is also a copy preserved in the Bagford Collection, which is one of the imprints of W. Onley. The edition of 1640 has the initials of Martin Parker at the end, but, as Mr. Collier observes, ‘There is little doubt that the story is much older than 1640.’ See preface to Percy Society’s Edition.]
There was an old chap in the west country,
A flaw in the lease the lawyers had found,
’Twas all about felling of five oak trees,
And building a house upon his own ground.
Right too looral, looral, looral—right too looral la!
Now, this old chap to Lunnun would go,
To tell the king a part of his woe,
Likewise to tell him a part of his grief,
In hopes the king would give him relief.
Now, when this old chap to Lunnun had come,
He found the king to Windsor had gone;
But if he’d known he’d not been at home,
He danged his buttons if ever he’d come.
Now, when this old chap to Windsor did stump,
The gates were barred, and all secure,
But he knocked and thumped with his oaken clump,
There’s room within for I to be sure.
But when he got there, how he did stare,
To see the yeomen strutting about;
He scratched his head, and rubbed down his hair,
In the ear of a noble he gave a great shout:
‘Pray, Mr. Noble, show I the King;
Is that the King that I see there?
I seed an old chap at Bartlemy fair
Look more like a king than that chap there.
‘Well, Mr. King, pray how d’ye do?
I gotten for you a bit of a job,
Which if you’ll be so kind as to do,
I gotten a summat for you in my fob.’