[IN some of the more remote dales of Craven it is customary at the close of the hay-harvest for the farmers to give an entertainment to their men; this is called the churn supper; a name which Eugene Aram traces to 'the immemorial usage of producing at such suppers a great quantity of cream in a churn, and circulating it in cups to each of the rustic company, to be eaten with bread.' At these churn-suppers the masters and their families attend the entertainment, and share in the general mirth. The men mask themselves, and dress in a grotesque manner, and are allowed the privilege of playing harmless practical jokes on their employers, &c. The churn-supper song varies in different dales, but the following used to be the most popular version. In the third verse there seems to be an allusion to the clergyman's taking tythe in kind, on which occasions he is generally accompanied by two or three men, and the parish clerk. The song has never before been printed. There is a marked resemblance between it and a song of the date of 1650, called A CUP OF OLD STINGO. See POPULAR MUSIC OFTHE OLDEN TIME, I., 308.]
GOD rest you, merry gentlemen!
Be not moved at my strain, For nothing study shall my brain, But for to make you laugh:
For I came here to this feast, For to laugh, carouse, and jest, And welcome shall be every guest, To take his cup and quaff.
CHO. Be frolicsome, every one, Melancholy none;Drink about!
See it out, And then we'll all go home, And then we'll all go home!
This ale it is a gallant thing, It cheers the spirits of a king;It makes a dumb man strive to sing, Aye, and a beggar play!
A cripple that is lame and halt, And scarce a mile a day can walk, When he feels the juice of malt, Will throw his crutch away.
CHO. Be frolicsome, &c.
'Twill make the parson forget his men, -
'Twill make his clerk forget his pen;
'Twill turn a tailor's giddy brain, And make him break his wand, The blacksmith loves it as his life, -It makes the tinkler bang his wife, -
Aye, and the butcher seek his knife When he has it in his hand!
CHO. Be frolicsome, &c.
So now to conclude, my merry boys, all, Let's with strong liquor take a fall, Although the weakest goes to the wall, The best is but a play!
For water it concludes in noise, Good ale will cheer our hearts, brave boys;Then put it round with a cheerful voice, We meet not every day.
CHO. Be frolicsome, &c.
Ballad: THE RURAL DANCE ABOUT THE MAY-POLE.
[THE most correct copy of this song is that given in THEWESTMINSTER DROLLERY, Part II. p. 80. It is there called THE RURALDANCE ABOUT THE MAY-POLE, THE TUNE, THE FIRST-FIGURE DANCE AT MR.
YOUNG'S BALL, MAY, 1671. The tune is in POPULAR MUSIC. The MAY-POLE, for so the song is called in modern collections, is a very popular ditty at the present time. The common copies vary considerably from the following version, which is much more correct than any hitherto published.]
COME, lasses and lads, take leave of your dads, And away to the may-pole hie;For every he has got him a she, And the minstrel's standing by;For Willie has gotten his Jill, And Johnny has got his Joan, To jig it, jig it, jig it, Jig it up and down.
'Strike up,' says Wat; 'Agreed,' says Kate, 'And I prithee, fiddler, play;'
'Content,' says Hodge, and so says Madge, For this is a holiday.
Then every man did put His hat off to his lass, And every girl did curchy, Curchy, curchy on the grass.
'Begin,' says Hall; 'Aye, aye,' says Mall, 'We'll lead up PACKINGTON'S POUND;'
'No, no,' says Noll, and so says Doll, 'We'll first have SELLENGER'S ROUND.' Then every man began To foot it round about;And every girl did jet it, Jet it, jet it, in and out.
'You're out,' says Dick; ''Tis a lie,' says Nick, 'The fiddler played it false;'
''Tis true,' says Hugh, and so says Sue, And so says nimble Alice.
The fiddler then began To play the tune again;And every girl did trip it, trip it, Trip it to the men.
'Let's kiss,' says Jane, 'Content,' says Nan, And so says every she;'How many?' says Batt; 'Why three,' says Matt, 'For that's a maiden's fee.'
But they, instead of three, Did give them half a score, And they in kindness gave 'em, gave 'em, Gave 'em as many more.
Then after an hour, they went to a bower, And played for ale and cakes;And kisses, too; - until they were due, The lasses kept the stakes:
The girls did then begin To quarrel with the men;And bid 'em take their kisses back, And give them their own again.
Yet there they sate, until it was late, And tired the fiddler quite, With singing and playing, without any paying, From morning unto night:
They told the fiddler then, They'd pay him for his play;And each a two-pence, two-pence, Gave him, and went away.
'Good night,' says Harry; 'Good night,' says Mary;'Good night,' says Dolly to John;
'Good night,' says Sue; 'Good night,' says Hugh;'Good night,' says every one.
Some walked, and some did run, Some loitered on the way;And bound themselves with love-knots, love-knots, To meet the next holiday.
Ballad: THE HITCHIN MAY-DAY SONG.
[THE following song is sung by the Mayers at Hitchin in the county of Herts. For an account of the manner in which May-day is observed at Hitchin, see Hone's EVERY-DAY BOOK.]
REMEMBER us poor Mayers all!
And thus do we begin To lead our lives in righteousness, Or else we die in sin.
We have been rambling all the night, And almost all the day;And now returned back again, We have brought you a branch of May.
A branch of May we have brought you, And at your door it stands;It is but a sprout, But it's well budded out By the work of our Lord's hand.
The hedges and trees they are so green, As green as any leek;Our heavenly Father he watered them With his heavenly dew so sweet.
The heavenly gates are open wide, Our paths are beaten plain;And if a man be not too far gone, He may return again.
The life of man is but a span, It flourishes like a flower;We are here to-day, and gone to-morrow, And we are dead in an hour.
The moon shines bright, and the stars give a light, A little before it is day;So God bless you all, both great and small, And send you a joyful May!
Ballad: THE HELSTONE FURRY-DAY SONG.
