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Read Ebook: Fiscal Ballads by Graham Harry
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Ebook has 150 lines and 11810 words, and 3 pages
PAGE
FOREWORD 1
PROTECTION 4
RETALIATION 8
THE COLONIES 12
PREFERENTIAL TREATMENT 17
BRITISH TRADE 22
CONTROVERSIAL ENTERTAINMENT 28
'STATISTICS' 33
'CONTROVERSIAL METHODS' 39
A MESSAGE FROM BROADMOOR 42
THE TURNING TIDE 45
ENVOI 49
FISCAL BALLADS
FOREWORD
I'm only a common workin'-man, With a eye to my vittles an' beer, But afore I puts my money on Joe, There's a thing or two as I'd like to know, Which 'e 'asn't a-made quite clear.
I admit as it sounds attractive-like For to shut them furriners out, But every Board School nipper knows As there's things wot only a furriner grows As we couldn't well do without.
But they don't give nothin' for nothink-- Which you can't dispute the fac'-- An' we're sending 'em hevery bit as much Of our cotton-goods, an' our coal, an' such, As 'll pay the beggars back.
An' the less we buys o' them furrin goods, The less of our own's returned; Which it's plain to see as the more they take, The more our firms 'as a chance to make, An' the 'igher the wages earned.
For it's British Labour as pays the price O' them goods as crosses the sea, An' suppose as the furrin imports fail, It's the case of a empty dinner-pail For the workin'-man like me.
Let the furriner send 'is foodstuffs in-- Lor' bless you, I ain't afraid! For the more we markets with other lands, The more employment for British 'ands, An' the better for British trade!
I 'asn't no love for the German man, Nor yet for the 'eathen Turk, But I ain't a fool as 'll shut the door In the face of even a blooming Boer, If the beggar can give me work.
For it's work I wants, an' it's wages too, An' I'm lookin' afore I leap; I won't go chucking a job away, On the chance of a possible rise o' pay, While food's to be 'ad so cheap.
I'm only a workin' artisan, But the truth I'd like to know; I ain't for takin' no risks, myself, Of a empty grate an' a empty shelf-- No, thanks, sir, not for Joe!
'E says as 'e'll 'sweep the Country'! And 'e'll do it too, maybe; If the workin'-men don't 'ave a care, They'll find as there ain't no Country there, When 'e's swep' it--into the sea!
PROTECTION
I've got the dumpophobia bad, As is easy for to see; An' I simply goes clean off my chump If anyone 'appens to mention 'dump.'
For it's 'Out wi' they furriner folks!' sez I; Will we take it 'lying down,' When they dumps cheap goods Into every British town?
But there's good times coming, an' thanks to Joe, When the Hempire 'll stand on 'er own; We'll be quit o' the food them furriners grow, An' rely on ourselves alone. For us, an' the Colonies too, I lay, Can grow it as good an' better'n they!
We're a British race, an' we'll soon depend On the produc's o' British soil; No more of our 'ard-earned wage we'll spend Upon cheap American oil; Them dazzlin' lamps is a big mistake, While there's tallow candles o' British make!
We've the finest coal in the 'ole wide earth, Which we used for to sell abroad; But now as we knows 'ow much it's worth, We'll save it, an' 'old it, an' 'oard.
If there's less to eat it'll taste more sweet, When the Britishers all combine; We'll 'ave tinned an' frozen Noo Zealand meat, Washed down with Australian wine!
Them Italian organs 'll 'ave to go, An' the ice-cream barrers as well, When we're buying a 'alfpenny glass o' snow From some smart Canadian swell. An' no more o' your music from Germanee, When our motto is 'Bands acrost the sea!'
When the furriner's foodstuffs out we shuts, We'll still 'ave the run of our teeth On the cocoa we makes off o' cocoanuts As they grows upon 'Ampstead 'Eath! An' o' British pluck we can surely brag, When we're smoking the 'omegrown Irish shag!
We're a-buyin' our food too cheap, sez Joe ; The cost o' the loaf's too small, an' so 'E's a-trying to raise the price!
This 'ere Pertection's a splendid plan-- But it's werry 'ard lines on the workin'-man!
RETALIATION
Now, tinkering boots is a thirsty trade, Which them as 'as tried it won't deny, But I wouldn't get beer orf o' 'Enery Slade, An' there wasn't no other's as I could buy; An' so, for a month very near, I think, I was starving a'most for the lack of a drink.
But at last to a comperimize we come, An' 'e said as my boots was right enough, An' I told 'im--arter I'd tasted some-- As 'is beer wasn't really 'alf bad stuff; So we both shakes 'ands on the village green, An' we seed what a couple o' fools we'd been.
Now if England quarrels with Roosia, say, Or them aggrannoying United States, She can tax their imports, an' make 'em pay More 'eavier dooties an' 'igher rates; But suppose as we taxes the goods they sell, It's likely as they'll tax ours as well.
An' o' manufactured goods, an' such, We're sendin' three times as much as they; So I can't see as 'ow we'll be gaining much, With a three times 'eavier tax to pay.
This Retaliation's a tom-fool game; If we taxes the furriner's barley 'ere, We shall only be 'aving ourselves to blame When we 'as to pay more for our dinner-beer! Free Food is the best for British Trade, --An' for you, an' for me, an' for 'Enery Slade!
THE COLONIES
I've been 'earing, round the pubs, As the British Lion's cubs Is a gettin' out of 'and, and stubborn-'earted; For the Colonies, they say, Is a driftin' right away, From the Motherland wot seed 'em safely started. But it's only Little Englanders, Protectionists, an' such, Keeps a-'owling an' a-crying as the Empire's 'out o' touch.'
There was Canada, I know; Kipling said as she 'ad snow, Which was met with angry contradictions; Then Haustralia come next, An' one Guv'nor found a text To remind 'em of their ancestors' convictions. It's unfortunit, but still we must admit it for a fact, As we Englishmen is hev'rvwhere notorious for tact.
But wotever folks may shout An' make grievances about, There's uncommon little grounds as they can go on; For the strength o' Hempire lies More in sentimental ties Than in any 'business interests' an' so on; An' there's feelings of affection an' o' kindness as is worth Twice as much as all them there 'commercial interests' on earth.
An' they'll stick, if they are wise, To them sentimental ties-- Never mind if they can't value 'em in dollars; For they're independent blokes, An' they wouldn't stand no yokes, Nor they doesn't 'old with wearin' chains an' collars.
Yes, they knows, as well as we, As it's Hengland rules the sea,-- -- An' it's Henglishmen as pays For the Navy, nowadays,-- -- So they gives to us the priv'lege of defendin' of 'em 'ere, If we lets 'em run their own concerns an' doesn't interfere.
We've a market, as they knows, For the produce wot they grows, Which commercially's a quite sufficient fetter; An' so long as they can trade At the present prices paid, Why, they don't want nothink easier nor better. An' a preference won't make 'em no more loyal than before, For they've proved their bloomin' loyalty a 'undred times and more.
If we likes to pay 'em 'igh For their foodstuffs as we buy, Well, it's natural as 'ow they must applaud it; But they wants no preference At the Motherland's expense, If she ain't in no position to afford it; An' they knows, as well as we do, 'ow that any bounties paid Must be 'ard on British workin'-men, an' bad for British trade.
For they showed us, in the war, They was loyal to the core, An' they're ready for to 'elp us when we flounders; An' tho' 'ere and there, per'aps, There's some discontented chaps, As 'll grumble, like them there Alaskan Bounders; Still, they're British to the backbone when the dawgs o' war is loosed, An' they'll stick by Mother England till the cows comes 'ome to roost!
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