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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
But, of'coorse, this was rather too much for the lad;
So Tommy was taken very bad.
It was weeks, I believe, afore he was out,
And even then only creepin' about—
And, I really can't azackly explain,
But he never come to school again—
At least to ours—I don't know did they get
To hear the way the lad was beat.
But, however, he was sent to another school—
Somewhere down by the Ballagoole;
And that would be close to his father's house,
That owned a croft and a couple of cows,
And a pig or two—aw, a dacent ould blade.
The man was a blacksmith to his trade,
And worked at it, too: at least, if he didn'
There was the smithy aback of his midden.
He was a hard man, though—very hard—
And a man that didn' much regard
For the people that was over him:
Pazons, churchwardens, sumners, and them.
There's no doubt he was rather fond of a fight;
But any way he'd have his right—
The commons, the quarterlands, the cess,
Intacks, easements, and all the rest.
That's the man that could rattle them off—
And only ownin' this bit of a crof'.
I believe the joy of his life was to go
To a vestry meetin', and have a jaw
With the Archdeacon, that was capital
For keepin' the temper; and the louder he'd bawl,
“The bark,” he'd say, “is worse than the bite of him”;
And bore with the chap, but hated the sight of him.
That was Gellin'—quarrelsome rather;
And, anyway, he was Tommy's father.
So Tommy was taken very bad.
It was weeks, I believe, afore he was out,
And even then only creepin' about—
And, I really can't azackly explain,
But he never come to school again—
At least to ours—I don't know did they get
To hear the way the lad was beat.
But, however, he was sent to another school—
Somewhere down by the Ballagoole;
And that would be close to his father's house,
That owned a croft and a couple of cows,
And a pig or two—aw, a dacent ould blade.
The man was a blacksmith to his trade,
And worked at it, too: at least, if he didn'
There was the smithy aback of his midden.
He was a hard man, though—very hard—
And a man that didn' much regard
For the people that was over him:
Pazons, churchwardens, sumners, and them.
254
But any way he'd have his right—
The commons, the quarterlands, the cess,
Intacks, easements, and all the rest.
That's the man that could rattle them off—
And only ownin' this bit of a crof'.
I believe the joy of his life was to go
To a vestry meetin', and have a jaw
With the Archdeacon, that was capital
For keepin' the temper; and the louder he'd bawl,
“The bark,” he'd say, “is worse than the bite of him”;
And bore with the chap, but hated the sight of him.
That was Gellin'—quarrelsome rather;
And, anyway, he was Tommy's father.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |