FullReads

(Being a Sequel to “The Groom’s Story” in “Songs of Action”)

Not tired of ‘earin’ stories! You’re a nailer,
so you are!
I thought I should ‘ave choked you off with
that ‘ere motor-car.
Well, mister, ‘ere’s another; and, mind you,
it’s a fact,
Though you’ll think perhaps I copped it
out o’ some blue ribbon tract.

It was in the days when farmer men were
jolly-faced and stout,
For all the cash was comin’ in and little
goin’ out,
But now, you see, the farmer men are
‘ungry-faced and thin,
For all the cash is goin’ out and little
comin’ in.

But in the days I’m speakin’ of, before
the drop in wheat,
The life them farmers led was such as
couldn’t well be beat;
They went the pace amazin’, they ‘unted
and they shot,
And this ‘ere Jeremiah Brown the liveliest
of the lot.

‘E was a fine young fellar; the best roun’
‘ere by far,
But just a bit full-blooded, as fine young
fellars are;
Which I know they didn’t ought to, an’ it’s
very wrong of course,
But the colt wot never capers makes a
mighty useless ‘orse.

The lad was never vicious, but ‘e made the
money go,
For ‘e was ready with ‘is “yes,” and back-
ward with ‘is “no.”
And so ‘e turned to drink which is the
avenoo to ‘ell,
An’ ‘ow ‘e came to stop ‘imself is wot’ I
‘ave to tell.

Four days on end ‘e never knew ‘ow ‘e ‘ad
got to bed,
Until one mornin’ fifty clocks was tickin’
in ‘is ‘ead,
And on the same the doctor came, “You’re
very near D.T.,
If you don’t stop yourself, young chap,
you’ll pay the price,” said ‘e.

“It takes the form of visions, as I fear
you’ll quickly know;
Perhaps a string o’ monkeys, all a-sittin’ in
a row,
Perhaps it’s frogs or beetles, perhaps it’s
rats or mice,
There are many sorts of visions and
there’s none of ’em is nice.”

But Brown ‘e started laughin’: “No
doctor’s muck,” says ‘e,
“A take-’em-break-’em gallop is the only
cure for me!
They ‘unt to-day down ‘Orsham way.
Bring round the sorrel mare,
If them monkeys come inquirin’ you can
send ’em on down there.”

Well, Jeremiah rode to ‘ounds, exactly as
‘e said.
But all the time the doctor’s words were
ringin’ in ‘is ‘ead —
“If you don’t stop yourself, young chap,
you’ve got to pay the price,
There are many sorts of visions, but none
of ’em is nice.”

They found that day at Leonards Lee and
ran to Shipley Wood,
‘Ell-for-leather all the way, with scent
and weather good.
Never a check to ‘Orton Beck and on
across the Weald,
And all the way the Sussex clay was weed-
in’ out the field.

There’s not a man among them could
remember such a run,
Straight as a rule to Bramber Pool and on
by Annington,
They followed still past Breeding ‘ill
and on by Steyning Town,
Until they’d cleared the ‘edges and were
out upon the Down.

Full thirty mile from Plimmers Style,
without a check or fault,
Full thirty mile the ‘ounds ‘ad run and
never called a ‘alt.
One by one the Field was done until at
Finden Down,
There was no one with the ‘untsman save
young Jeremiah Brown.