OLD SAM'S PARTY
written by
Mabel Constanduros

Sam Small, though approaching his sixtieth year
Were feeling all brisk like and hearty,
So he sent out an invite when Chrismas drew near
And asked all his friends to a party.

There was old ale and sandwiches, beef and cold tongue,
And trifle with gooseberry jam,
And parkin and humbugs, a couple of ducks,
And lovely great platefuls of ham.

Sam's Captain were there from his old army days,
A man for his strictness renowned,
And Lieutenant Bird and the Sergeant, the same
Who once knocked Sam's musket on t'ground.

They was shy like, at first... for the Captain was glum,
And Lieutenant Bird, a bit coy,
Then two Masters arrived from the school at Runcorn,
Where Sam used to go as a boy.

The junior tutor, a classy young man,
In a very old mortar-board 'at,
Walked up to the ale with his eyes bulging out,
And said, "I'd like a basin o' that!"

The language professor, he said with a bow,
"Bon Noel!" and sat down on a bench,
"'Fait-il froid, pas demi'." he went on... Sam explained,
"He means weather's fair ruddy, he's French!"


Then Lieutenant Bird, volunteered for a song,
Accompanied by Sergeant McNally,
Sang, 'Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally.'

Then the Captain jumped up, said he'd not be outdone,
He played for himself with one finger,
There were tears in all eyes as he'd finished his song,
He were a magnificent singer.

He'd start a bit husky, but nothing to last,
His voice cleared up fine when he'd coughed,
'Faithful below, Tom did his duty,
But now he's gone aloft, but now he's gone aloft.'

As his last trembling note died away in a gulp,
Came a clatter of hooves from outside.
Sam pulled back the blind and blushed up to his ears,
"It's the Duke!" he announced with much pride.

And it were. Up he rode, on his lovely white horse,
Sam faltered, "Why Duke, is it you?
And you with lumbago and snow on the ground,
I take it most kind, that I do."

"Gradely, lad," said the Duke, condescending and kind,
"By gum, but how well you do look.
This room's a bit stuffy and hot, do you mind...
If I hang up me coat on this hook?"

Then a thunderous banging was heard on the door,
And the bell gave a furious ring,
They all turned quite pale as a voice from outside,
Cried, "Open in t'name of the King."

Sam opened the door, there he stood, George IV,
A model of beauty and grace,
His crown on his head, and his sceptre in hand,
And behind him stood Queen with the mace.

"Tha told us," said King, "when we come up thy way
To call and take pot luck with thee,
And seeing we're up for the cup tie tha' knows
The Queen and me's popped in for tea."

They hung up their crowns on the stand in the 'all.
Sam paid off their cab, eighteen pence.
The Queen parked her mace in Sam's umbrella stand,
"Reet," she said, "now let party commence."

Well! things was a bit rigid like, just at first,
The room was fair thrutched up with folks,
'Til the Queen, quite nonchelant, unbuttoned one boot,
And King made some rather rude jokes.

Then up jumped the Duke and said let's have a game,
Now what should we play?... Blind mans Buff?"
But the Queen said, "I'd rather have Musical Chairs,
It isn't so common and rough!"

In the midst of the game, two more people arrived,
It was Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom.
When they saw King and Queen, playing Musical Chairs,
They was struck dumb, as if you had shot 'em.

For there sat the Queen and the Duke on one chair,
Fair pushing and shoving each other...
Mr. Ramsbottom said, "Nay, we mustn't intrude,
We're no'but plain folk, me and Mother!"

"Don't be shy," called the Queen, very friendly and kind,
"Come in, now and take off thine 'ats,
Now don't say you've left little Albert behind,
A fine little fellow, was that!"

"What!... hasn't thy heard?" Mrs Ramsbottom searched
For a dry bit of hanky to cry on,
"He went for the day to the zoo up at Blackpool
And our Albert was ate by a lion!"

"Eh!... Mrs Ramsbottom..." said Queen, "that is sad,
But thy got compensation, my dear?"
"Not us!" said the Ramsbottoms, very irate,
"So we shan't go to Blackpool this year!"

Well, after they'd all had a drop of old ale,
To give the proceedings a bite,
While Mrs. Ramsbottom, retired with the Queen,
The Sergeant got up to recite.

"Friends, romans and countrymen, lend me thy lugs."
He slowly and weightily said,
Then he stuck for a bit and knocked over his glass,
So they lent him some old ale instead.

The Duke then arose to deliver a speech
The glass in his hand, none too stable,
But what, with lumbago and what, with old ale,
He'd to grip pretty tight to the table.

"Why Sam, where's thy medal?" he suddenly cried
And set his glass down with a slam.
"Thee won the VC... King had medal for thee."
"I know he'd a medal." snapped Sam.

The Queen glanced at King, who had opened his mouth,
Intending a moral to teach,
"Nay, nay, Geordy love, shut thy face!" said the Queen,
"And let Arthur get on with his speech!"

They all clapped their hands and sung out aloud,
Demanding a speech from their host.
And Sam, very bashful, said "Well, I don't mind,
Fill t'glasses, I'll give thee a toast."

"Well friends, heres a health to all those that I love,
And a health to all thase that love me.
A health to all those that love those that I love,
And to those that love those that love me."

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