tonybarebones
Well-Known Member
HOW WE SAVED THE BARGE
BY ARTHUR HELLIAR and CUTHBERT CLARKE 1908
Performed by Bransby Williams
I'm a Captain, that's what I am, sir, a nautical man by trade,
Though I ain't tricked out in a uniform with buttons of gold and braid.
I ain't the Captain it's true, of one of these floating grand hotels,
It's true as I ain't the skipper of one of these Claton or Yarmouth Belles.
I’m the Captain of this 'ere barge, sir, wot's known as the "Slimy Sal,"
And a faster boat there ain't on the length of breadth of the whole canal.
Though I'll own so far as the breadths concerned that ain't much praise o' course,
And the number of knots an hour she makes has summat to do with a horse.
Have I ever had any adventures? the same as one meets at sea?
I should rather just think I 'ave, sir, not one but a dozen, maybe.
If it wasn't as 'ow my throat's so dry as to almost stop my breath,
I'd tell yer the way as the missis and me was snatched from the jaws of death.
Her courage it was too as saved us, 'er courage what pulled us through,
Or I wouldn't be standing here thirsty-well thank'ee, don't mind if I do.
One morning some two or three weeks ago, our cargo had all been stowed,
We'd 80 odd tons of coal aboard which o' course was a fairish load,
We'd got a new 'orse that day, sir, too good for the job a lot,
He'd once been a Derby winner, though 'is name I've clean forgot.
He was standing harnessed on to the barge, the missis and I was aboard,
When all of a sudden we feels a jerk and he starts of his own accord.
Something or other had startled him, what it was I never could think,
Though I fancy he'd 'eard some gent like you wot 'ad offered to stand me a drink.
I flew like a flash to the rudder, and I pushes it 'ard alee,
And the missis 'ad 'oisted a flag of distress to the chimbly, I could see.
We 'adn't a fog'orn or whistle aboard but the missis she yells like two,
But the louder she screamed "Clear the course" the faster the old 'orse flew
He thought he was back in the days gone by, a-winning some famous race,
Twas a race with death for the missis and me at that awful 'eadlong pace.
'Ouses and trees went flying by—a mighty splash and a shock,
And we'd passed bang through, without paying too, the closed up gates of a lock.
Just then when we'd whizzed through a tunnel she yells from the lower deck, And says "If that 'orse ain't pulled up pretty quick, I can see as we're in for a wreck."
We only got thirty or forty miles till we gets to the end of the course, It's a case of which 'olds out the longest the bloomin' canal or the 'orse.
But before I tells 'ow we was saved, sir, there's one thing I'd like yer to know,
My missis was once in a circus as a h'artist I mean, years ago.
She used to perform on the tightrope and wonderful tricks too she done,
But of course, that's all finished and over, her weight being seventeen stun.
Then she stood on the deck where I stood sir,
and I sees a gleam come in her eye,
She says "It's a chance in a thousand, but it's one as I'm willing to try.
The ‘eadlong career of the ‘orse must be stopped, it’s our last and only hope.
Thers only one way to get at ‘im, I must walk to his back on the rope.
She gives one farewell ‘ug sir, takes an oar for a pole in her hands.
Then smiling, as though in a circus, on the tow rope in a second she stands.
I closed both my eyes after that sir, for the sight would have made me unnerved.
For a ‘orrible death twould ‘ave meant for ‘er if the barge for a moment had swerved.
But I opens ‘em wide in a moment, for I ‘ears a loud kind of a crack.
And I sees that theer ‘orse collapse in a ‘eap, for the missis ‘ad broken ’is back.
As soon as the crisis was over, on the deck in a swoon sir I dropped.
But the barge it went on for a mile and a ‘arf on it’s lonesome afore it was stopped.
Why didn’t we cut thro’ the rope sir, and ‘ave let the orse loose instead?
Just fancy you thinking o’ that now, why it never came into my ‘ead!!
BY ARTHUR HELLIAR and CUTHBERT CLARKE 1908
Performed by Bransby Williams
I'm a Captain, that's what I am, sir, a nautical man by trade,
Though I ain't tricked out in a uniform with buttons of gold and braid.
I ain't the Captain it's true, of one of these floating grand hotels,
It's true as I ain't the skipper of one of these Claton or Yarmouth Belles.
I’m the Captain of this 'ere barge, sir, wot's known as the "Slimy Sal,"
And a faster boat there ain't on the length of breadth of the whole canal.
Though I'll own so far as the breadths concerned that ain't much praise o' course,
And the number of knots an hour she makes has summat to do with a horse.
Have I ever had any adventures? the same as one meets at sea?
I should rather just think I 'ave, sir, not one but a dozen, maybe.
If it wasn't as 'ow my throat's so dry as to almost stop my breath,
I'd tell yer the way as the missis and me was snatched from the jaws of death.
Her courage it was too as saved us, 'er courage what pulled us through,
Or I wouldn't be standing here thirsty-well thank'ee, don't mind if I do.
One morning some two or three weeks ago, our cargo had all been stowed,
We'd 80 odd tons of coal aboard which o' course was a fairish load,
We'd got a new 'orse that day, sir, too good for the job a lot,
He'd once been a Derby winner, though 'is name I've clean forgot.
He was standing harnessed on to the barge, the missis and I was aboard,
When all of a sudden we feels a jerk and he starts of his own accord.
Something or other had startled him, what it was I never could think,
Though I fancy he'd 'eard some gent like you wot 'ad offered to stand me a drink.
I flew like a flash to the rudder, and I pushes it 'ard alee,
And the missis 'ad 'oisted a flag of distress to the chimbly, I could see.
We 'adn't a fog'orn or whistle aboard but the missis she yells like two,
But the louder she screamed "Clear the course" the faster the old 'orse flew
He thought he was back in the days gone by, a-winning some famous race,
Twas a race with death for the missis and me at that awful 'eadlong pace.
'Ouses and trees went flying by—a mighty splash and a shock,
And we'd passed bang through, without paying too, the closed up gates of a lock.
Just then when we'd whizzed through a tunnel she yells from the lower deck, And says "If that 'orse ain't pulled up pretty quick, I can see as we're in for a wreck."
We only got thirty or forty miles till we gets to the end of the course, It's a case of which 'olds out the longest the bloomin' canal or the 'orse.
But before I tells 'ow we was saved, sir, there's one thing I'd like yer to know,
My missis was once in a circus as a h'artist I mean, years ago.
She used to perform on the tightrope and wonderful tricks too she done,
But of course, that's all finished and over, her weight being seventeen stun.
Then she stood on the deck where I stood sir,
and I sees a gleam come in her eye,
She says "It's a chance in a thousand, but it's one as I'm willing to try.
The ‘eadlong career of the ‘orse must be stopped, it’s our last and only hope.
Thers only one way to get at ‘im, I must walk to his back on the rope.
She gives one farewell ‘ug sir, takes an oar for a pole in her hands.
Then smiling, as though in a circus, on the tow rope in a second she stands.
I closed both my eyes after that sir, for the sight would have made me unnerved.
For a ‘orrible death twould ‘ave meant for ‘er if the barge for a moment had swerved.
But I opens ‘em wide in a moment, for I ‘ears a loud kind of a crack.
And I sees that theer ‘orse collapse in a ‘eap, for the missis ‘ad broken ’is back.
As soon as the crisis was over, on the deck in a swoon sir I dropped.
But the barge it went on for a mile and a ‘arf on it’s lonesome afore it was stopped.
Why didn’t we cut thro’ the rope sir, and ‘ave let the orse loose instead?
Just fancy you thinking o’ that now, why it never came into my ‘ead!!
