Ole Tom
An observation in an English Essex Pub
By
J Henry Foster
Ole’Tom ee’sat in the corner-ee-did
By that there ole’picture’ont’wall.
Sat there ee’did every day of is’life
Wen ‘is ‘misses’ allowed im’at’all.
Part of the furniture-folks would say.
Wiv’is’glass of ale’n’is’fag.
But the tales wot ee’told
Wer times of the old,
Wer the best that ee’ever’ad.
Tuppance ‘a ‘pint ‘a ‘good strong ale,
A tanner a packet of fags,
A chunk’a’good cheese-n’onion’n’bread,
An a game’a ‘shove’apney-with lad’s.
Orse’s’n’traps that’s all that there wer,
So a good pair’a legs, did elp.
“Money was scarce” - so Tom would say
“Yer pockets soon empty when felt”
But work they ,did-sixty hours a week.
Muck cart’n’turning of hay,
Milking ole’cows’n’feeding sows
Then under cold tap-end of day.
Ee-enjoyed’is pint –Ole Tom ee’did.
An is yarns were enjoyed by all.
But now old Toms gone-no one to replace
Cept the memories ee’left’wiv us all.
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