From: jonb@Ingres.COM (Jon Berger)
Subject: Re: A Source for "Oor Hamlet"
Reply-To: jonb@ingres.com
Organization: Ingres, an ASK Company
Date: 27 Jan 93 15:29:58 GMT

In article <1993Jan26.210318.20646@das.harvard.edu>, jmf@endor.harvard.edu ( ghost ) writes:
>
>Does Martin Carthy have it on record?   He's the only one I've ever
>heard do it in concert (& he does it so well).

Not to my knowledge.  He used to have a different silly unaccompanied
song every time he toured, but I think he considered them all too silly
to record.  (And this is the guy who recorded "Three Cripples", so we
can be confident that he has a fairly high silliness threshold.)

Before "Oor Hamlet", he used to do "The Funeral".  In honor of Super
Bowl Sunday -- the day with the highest incidence of domestic violence
in the year -- I'll attempt to reproduce it below.  This is approximately
to the tune of "Temperance (a.k.a. Teetotaller's) Reel".

   Well, I got an invitation to go to a funeral,
   But to my disappointment, the fellow didn't die.
   The guest of honor said that he was vexed at disappointing us,
   But he apologized, and could we let the thing go by?

   To make up for disappointing us he took us in and treated us,
   He bought pints of porter for a company of ten,
   Until one fellow mentioned that his money he was squandering,
   So we put that fellow's eye into mourning there and then.

   Now the owner of the beer-shop, when he saw us all a-coming
   He gave orders to evict us, but of course we did refuse,
   So he whistled up some loungers who were sitting in the corner,
   And for ten or fifteen minutes we were grievously abused.

   Then we left the beer-shop, and down the street we staggered,
   And a gang of corner-boys started pelting us with mud.
   We told them to go easy; when they said that they were doing so
   We turned on them and left them lying where they stood.

   Now, the next that we met was a gang of Salvationers
   Who rifled all our pockets and inquired if we were saved.
   And little Dan McGinty got invited to the station house
   For asking a policeman if his daughter misbehaved.

   Then we bought a concertina, to make the high hilarity,
   But none of us could play it, though we tried our best and worst.
   We knocked a lot of noise from it, if that was any benefit;
   We handled it so gently that the bloody bellows burst.

   Then we bought some hot potatoes for to mend the concertina,
   And then someone hit Maloney with the carcass of a cat.
   He buttoned up his whiskers and began to read the Riot Act,
   He swore he'd put two heads upon the villain that did that.

   Then Maloney hit McGinty, and McGinty hit some other chap,
   And everyone hit anyone to whom he owed a slight,
   And the cripple MacNamara, who was sitting saying nothing,
   Got a kick that burst his eye for not indulging in the fight.

   Well, the drinking it was in us and the sense was nearly out of us,
   And for a bit of rioting we quickly did prepare.
   We battered one another 'til we weren't worth three ha'pence,
   And I'll swear there was a carpet on the floor of skin and hair.

   We battered one another 'til the police separated us;
   They marched us off to jail with broken noses and black eyes.
   They marched us off to jail, and for me it was a lesson:
   Never go to funerals until the fellow dies.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
   -__ __ /_   Jon Berger              "If you push something hard enough,
  //_// //_/   jonb@ingres.com          it will fall over."
_/ ---------                              - Fudd's First Law of Opposition
Newsgroups: rec.music.folk