JACK AND THE BOX
Jack left school to sign on as apprentice,
To an undertaker named Charlie Kincaid,
He decided to put Jack into workshop,
To find out how coffins are made.
Jack took to the work like a natural.
Folk marvelled at his patience and skill.
They would even lay down a deposit.
To be sure it was Jack's box they'd fill.
Jack was given a room on the premises,
All found and with nothing to pay.
At time he thought it were an advantage,
But it really didn’t turn out that way.
Now Mr Kincaid, the proprietor,
Had a daughter called Emma Louise.
Attractive and very appealing.
Lads buzzed all about her like bees.
Early on Charlie gave Jack a lecture,
And laid down a rule, loud and clear -
If apprentice were to mess with his daughter,
He’d ‘toute suite’ be out on his ear!!
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Beware The Tiny Drummer
I went to a Ceilidh last Saturday,
It was held in our new village hall.
Folk from all over the area turned up there,
And they settled on seats round the wall.
The M. C. was an exiled old Scotsman,
Clad in his full Highland rig.
He carried a hip-flask in his sporran,
And after each dance took a swig.
There were Veletas and Dashing White Sergeants,
Reels, Jigs and Strathspeys to entrance.
I was worried when he announced the " Gay " Gordons,
"Don't worry," he said, "It's a dance!"
Then in marched the pipers and drummers,
The windows were shaken by t’din!
Bass drummer had a little companion,
A young lad they called Tiny Tim.
As Tim banged his drum with precision,
The old Scotsman grabbed hold of my hand.
He told me this tale of t’young drummer,
And why he marched bravely with t’band.
It happened that t’band belonged to a regiment,
With honours and tradition unsurpassed.
And young Tim’s illustrious forebears
Had banged drums and fought bravely t’last.