Mediated Strike (Prose)

At a meeting of the tax-collectors of the W - - R - -g of - -shire, held in one of the cells beneath the Town Hall it was proposed, "That we, the tax gatherers and rate collectors of the W - - R - -g of - -shire do intend to throw up our offices, unless our wages are reduced or our labours increased, for being like unto other men, possessed of consciences, we are frequently tormented with the thought, that we are receiving more than what is our due, and by that means wronging the public." Mr. Christopher Delphian moved as an amendment, "that they should dispose of their consciences, that being a readier way of getting over the difficulty." The chairman put the amendment which was carried, and the consciences were sold in one lot, for 7 3/4 d., which was carried to the fund for the entertainment of Mr. Calcraft, the president, whenever he should visit the district on a professional tour.

John Hartley

John Hartley was an English poet who wrote in the Yorkshire dialect. Born on January 1, 1839, in Halifax, West Yorkshire, he was known for his humorous and dialectical poetry, which vividly captured the spirit and culture of Yorkshire. Hartley's works were extremely popular in the 19th century, and he remains a significant figure in regional English literature. He passed away on March 10, 1915.

John Hartley

Modest Jack o' Wibsey Slack.

John Hartley, Simple Poetry

Cleenin' Daan Month (Prose)

John Hartley, Simple Poetry

Lines, on Startling a Rabbit.

John Hartley, Simple Poetry

Th' Better Part.

John Hartley, Simple Poetry

English

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On Strike.

He wandered slipshod through the street,
His clothes had many a rent;
His shoes seemed dropping from his feet,
His eyes were downward bent.
His face was sallow, pale and thin,
His beard neglected grew,
Upon his once close shaven chin,
Like bristles sticking through.

I'd known him in much better state,
As "old hard-working Mike,"
I asked, would he the cause relate?
Said he, "Awm aght on th' strike.
Yo're capt, noa daat, to see me thus,
Aw'm shamed to meet a friend;
It's varry hard on th' mooast on us,
We wish 't wor at an end.

Aw cannot spend mi time i'th' haase,
An see mi childer pine;
They havn't what'll feed a maase,
But that's noa fault o' mine.
Th' wife's varry nearly brokken daan, -
Shoo addles all we get,
Wol aw ...

John Hartley

The Rector And His Curate; Or, One Pound Two.

        "I trust we shall part as we met, in peace and charity. My last payment to you paid your salary up to the 1st of this month. Since that, I owe you for one month, which, being a long month, of thirty-one days, amounts, as near as I can calculate, to six pounds eight shillings. My steward returns you as a debtor to the amount of SEVEN POUNDS TEN SHILLINGS FOR COX-ACRE-GROUND, which leaves some trifling balance in my favor."--Letter of Dismissal from the Rev. Marcus Beresford to his Curate, the Rev. T. A. Lyons.


The account is balanced--the bill drawn out,--
The debit and credit all right, no doubt--
The Rector rolling in wealth and state,
Owes to his Curate six pound eight;
The Curate, that least well-fed of men,
Owes to his Rector seven pound ten,
Which maketh the balance...

Thomas Moore

Notions On Reform. By A Modern Reformer.

Of all the misfortunes as yet brought to pass
    By this comet-like Bill, with its long tail of speeches,
The saddest and worst is the schism which, alas!
    It has caused between Wetherel's waistcoat and breeches.

Some symptoms of this Anti-Union propensity
    Had oft broken out in that quarter before;
But the breach, since the Bill, has attained such immensity,
    Daniel himself could have scarce wisht it more.

Oh! haste to repair it, ye friends of good order,
    Ye Atwoods and Wynns, ere the moment is past;
Who can doubt that we tread upon Anarchy's border,
    When the ties that should hold men are loosening so fast?

Make Wetherel yield to "some sort of Reform"
    (As we all must, God help us! with very wry faces;)
And loud as he likes...

Thomas Moore

Booith-Taan Election. (Prose)

This place 'is nearly a mile from the good old town of Halifax.

Aa! ther wor a flare-up at Booith-Taan Hall that neet! It had been gein aat 'at they'd to be a meetin' held to elect a new Lord-Mayor, for New-Taan, Booith-Taan, an' th' Haley Hill, on which particular occashun, ale ud be supplied at Tuppence a pint upstairs. Ther wor a rare muster an' a gooid deeal o' argyfyin' tuk place abaat who shud be th' chearman. But one on 'em - a sly old fox - had kept standin' o' th' floor sidlin' abaat woll ivery other chear wor full, an' then after takkin a pinch o' snuff, he said, "Gentlemen, aw see noa reason aw shuddent tak this place mysen, as iverybody else has getten set daan." Two or three 'at wor his friends said "Hear, hear," an' two or three 'at worn't said "Sensashun!"

When iverybody's pint had getten fill'd, he bl...

John Hartley

Epistle From Captain Rock To Lord Lyndhurst.

Dear Lyndhurst,--you'll pardon my making thus free,--
But form is all fudge 'twixt such "comrogues" as we,
Who, whate'er the smooth views we, in public, may drive at,
Have both the same praiseworthy object, in private--
Namely, never to let the old regions of riot,
Where Rock hath long reigned, have one instant of quiet,
But keep Ireland still in that liquid we've taught her
To love more than meat, drink, or clothing--hot water.

All the difference betwixt you and me, as I take it,
Is simply, that you make the law and I break it;
And never, of big-wigs and small, were there two
Played so well into each other's hands as we do;
Insomuch, that the laws you and yours manufacture,
Seem all made express for the Rock-boys to fracture.
Not Birmingham's...

Thomas Moore

Late Tithe Case.

        "sic vos non vobis."


        "The Vicar of Birmingham desires me to state that, in consequence of the passing of a recent Act of Parliament, he is compelled to adopt measures which may by some be considered harsh or precipitate; but, in duty to what he owes to his successors, he feels bound to preserve the rights of the vicarage."
        --Letter from Mr. S. Powell, August 6.


No, not for yourselves, ye reverend men,
Do you take one pig in every ten,
But for Holy Church's future heirs,
Who've an abstract right to that pig, as theirs;
The law supposing that such heirs male
Are already seized of the pig, in tail.
No, not for himself hath Birmingham's priest
His "well-beloved" of their pennies fleeced:
But it is that, bef...

Thomas Moore