It is possible that visions of this character were conjured up in their minds by the singing, for the words of the song gave expression to their ideal of what human life should be.That was all they wanted -to be allowed to work like brutes for the benefit of other people.
They did not want to be civilized themselves and they intended to take good care that the children they had brought into the world should never enjoy the benefits of civilization either.As they often said:
`Who and what are our children that they shouldn't be made to work for their betters? They're not Gentry's children, are they? The good things of life was never meant for the likes of them.Let 'em work!
That's wot the likes of them was made for, and if we can only get Tariff Reform for 'em they will always be sure of plenty of it - not only Full Time, but Overtime! As for edication, travellin' in furrin'
parts, an' enjoying life an' all sich things as that, they was never meant for the likes of our children - they're meant for Gentry's children! Our children is only like so much dirt compared with Gentry's children! That's wot the likes of us is made for - to Work for Gentry, so as they can 'ave plenty of time to enjoy theirselves;and the Gentry is made to 'ave a good time so as the likes of us can 'ave Plenty of Work.'
There were several more verses, and by the time they had sung them all, the Tories were in a state of wild enthusiasm.Even Ned Dawson, who had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on his arms on the table, roused himself up at the end of each verse, and after having joined in the chorus, went to sleep again.
At the end of the song they gave three cheers for Tariff Reform and Plenty of Work, and then Crass, who, as the singer of the last song, had the right to call upon the next man, nominated Philpot, who received an ovation when he stood up, for he was a general favourite.
He never did no harm to nobody, and he was always wiling to do anyone a good turn whenever he had the opportunity.Shouts of `Good old Joe'
resounded through the room as he crossed over to the piano, and in response to numerous requests for `The old song' he began to sing `The Flower Show':
`Whilst walkin' out the other night, not knowing where to go I saw a bill upon a wall about a Flower Show.
So I thought the flowers I'd go and see to pass away the night.
And when I got into that Show it was a curious sight.
So with your kind intention and a little of your aid, Tonight some flowers I'll mention which I hope will never fade.'
Omnes:
To-night some flowers I'll mention which I hope will never fade.'
There were several more verses, from which it appeared that the principal flowers in the Show were the Rose, the Thistle and the Shamrock.
When he had finished, the applause was so deafening and the demands for an encore so persistent that to satisfy them he sang another old favourite - `Won't you buy my pretty flowers?'
`Ever coming, ever going, Men and women hurry by, Heedless of the tear-drops gleaming, In her sad and wistful eye How her little heart is sighing Thro' the cold and dreary hours, Only listen to her crying, "Won't you buy my pretty flowers?"'
When the last verse of this sang had been sung five er six times, Philpot exercised his right of nominating the next singer, and called upon Dick Wantley, who with many suggestive gestures and grimaces sang `Put me amongst the girls', and afterwards called upon Payne, the foreman carpenter, who gave `I'm the Marquis of Camberwell Green'.
There was a lot of what music-hall artists call `business' attached to his song, and as he proceeded, Payne, who was ghastly pale and very nervous, went through a lot of galvanic motions and gestures, bowing and scraping and sliding about and flourishing his handkerchief in imitation of the courtly graces of the Marquis.During this performance the audience maintained an appalling silence, which so embarrassed Payne that before he was half-way through the song he had to stop because he could not remember the rest.However, to make up for this failure he sang another called `We all must die, like the fire in the grate'.This also was received in a very lukewarm manner by the crowd, same of whom laughed and others suggested that if he couldn't sing any better than that, the sooner HE was dead the better.
This was followed by another Tory ballad, the chorus being as follows:
His clothes may be ragged, his hands may be soiled.
But where's the disgrace if for bread he has toiled.
His 'art is in the right place, deny it no one can The backbone of Old England is the honest workin' man.'
After a few more songs it was decided to adjourn to a field at the rear of the tavern to have a game of cricket.Sides were formed, Rushton, Didlum, Grinder, and the other gentlemen taking part just as if they were only common people, and while the game was in progress the rest played ring quoits or reclined on the grass watching the players, whilst the remainder amused themselves drinking beer and playing cards and shove-ha'penny in the bar parlour, or taking walks around the village sampling the beer at the other pubs, of which there were three.
The time passed in this manner until seven o'clock, the hour at which it had been arranged to start on the return journey; but about a quarter of an hour before they set out an unpleasant incident occurred.
