Classic Poem

F OAKS laughs at us now when we talk o' the good owd daays
When taaties wor maakin' their weight in gold and money come anywaays;
But you needn't mention — South Sea Bubbles — in the saame room,
Wi' our Lincolnshire farmers when they started the 'Taaty Boom.

I remember as well as owt, the very beginnin' on it:
It started wi' my owd missus wantin' a new Sunday bonnit;
And nowt would suit 'er but she must goa straight off to market to fit one,
Soa I yoks th' owd mare in the cart an' drives 'er awaay to git one.

When we wor comin' hoame she telled me a longish taale,
About two farmers' wives she'd overheard at a drapery saale,
Sayin' as 'ow their 'usbands 'ed got 'old of a real good thing,
Which they were keepin' quiet until it was ripe, next spring.

It wor some new fangled taaty as they called — Northern Star, —
But theer the missus made a slip an' went a bit too far,
Fer she said as they wor worth at least a sovereign a pound.
I sez, — They've 'ed more'n tea in their tea-pots, I'll be bound. —

— Sovereign a pound! Why there idn't sich a thing, — sez I,
But the missus stuck to it, an' wot's more aimed soa high
That at last she persuaded me to goa an' buy a few.
Soa I bought a pound; but, I tell yer that wor quite anew.

It wor laate for plantin' taaties, but I popped 'em in,
An' they growed like good uns, they did, as rank as sin.
Their tops kept green as grass; real laate, until,
I dug 'em! There wor 'ardly room in the hill.

Soa I planted 'em agen, an' all the next year through,
The rumour spread about the — Stars — an' maade a strange ter-do.
Becoz, you see, the owder sorts wor dyin' altogether,
Faalin' an' goin' rotten by reason o' the wet weather.

I 'ed noa end o' foaks that come to see 'em grawin;
An' should a selled 'em easy, but the missus wor too knawin'.
— Owd on a bit, — she sez, — an' see what'll turn out,
— Iverybody'll want 'em next year, when it gits about. —

She wor right, an' all, 'coz iverybody went mad together,
Rushin' about an' maakin' all sorts of silly blether
Wi' their mouths wide oppen an' their brains on fire,
An' all the while the price o' — Northern Stars — kep' creepin' 'igher.

Just after Christmas, the missus up an' selled the lot,
Ther' wor just a ton on 'em an' the price we got
Wor enough to maake yer mouth watter or yer eyes to run,
'Coz we got two hundred an' fifty sovereigns for that 'ere ton.

I wor omost craazed that daay when the missus showed me the cash,
More than we'ed iver seed in our lives: — an' got by bein' rash!
But bein' a well plucked un she sent me off wi'out more ado
To ware the whoale blessed lot in a stoan of — Eldorado. —

It maade my hair stand straight on end; I couldn't sleep at night,
Beggin' on 'er to let 'em goa afore I died o' fright,
But she 'eld on, until, one day — oh Lor! — 'ow mad it sounds,
We selled that single stoan agen fer jourteen 'undred pounds!

One 'undred sovereigns fer each pound! you talk about gold mines!
I wor as savage as a bull to keep up wi' the times,
Soa as we could buy a farm wi' the fortune we should maake,
But the missus put 'er foot down sudden, an' called me a — half baake. —

— We've got a fortune now , — she sez. — an' we're goin' to keep 'old, —
I did my best to move 'er, but she wouldn'd loose the gold.
She liked it over much, she said, to part wi' it, 'ersen,
Soa we popped it in the bank, an' I went back to work agen.

Our neighbours all got madder till the air wor full o' noise,
Rushin' about all mizzy-mazzy, worse than a pack o' boys.
Iverybody 'ed some new sort as wor goin' to beeat the rest,
All on 'em wor choice an' rare, an' each one wor the best.

There wor — Recorder, — — Discovery, — an' — King Edward — (rest 'iz bones),
— Diamonds, — — Radium, — — Pearls, — an' all sorts o' precious stones;
— Million Maker, — — Eldorado, — — Southern Star, — an' — Queen o' the Veldt, —
All shapes an' sizes springin' up as 'ard as they could pelt.

But the lies they telled about 'em wor enough to sink a booat.
They maade my hair stan' straight on end, for ivery blessed sort,
Accordin' to their owners, wor obliged to maake yer rich,
Until at last — it served 'em raate — they fell into the ditch.

All sorts o' silly foaks rushed in to try an' do us down
Butchers, baakers, candlestick-makers, an' rackapelts from town,
As didn't know taats from tonnups or a ram from a raake,
Provided they could git a bit, they 'edn't nowt at staake.

Poured in, they did, real anxious, wi' their money ready,
An' soon went slivin' out agen but a bit more steady,
'Avin' learnt a lesson, an' — we hoap — not quite soa dense,
Whilst their cash passed on to them as 'ad more sense.

Yis — it wor like the wicked world as yer read on in books,
Iverybody ayther rooags or knaves — ayther pigeons or rooks.
Nowt to choose between 'em; all as greedy as could be,
Only th' missus kept me out on it entirely.

Kep' me quiet patiently lissenin' fer the crash,
It wadn't long ayther afore it all went smash.
The bottom fell outer the Boom just as it 'ed dry rot,
An' quicker 'en you might saay — knife — th' whoal thing went to pot.

That wor a nicish do, an' all, wi' iverybody 'fraaid
They wor goin' to ruin instead o' 'avin' their fortunes maade.
Fer omost a whoal year, it wor as bad as bad could be,
An' the very naame o' taaty wer' enough to sickin ye.

We wor all right, mind you, snug on our little farm,
Thanks to th' owd missus' artfulness we didn't come to noa 'arm;
Whilst others cursed the very naame o' — Taaty — up an' down,
We gave our youngest boy the naame of — Eldorado Brown. —

Things is better now an' foaks 'as got ower it once more,
But I can't think as it'll ever be the saame as it was afore;
Leeastwaays 'ere'll be a different generation in our room
Afore they can 'ope to start another — Fancy Potater Boom. —