Mrs. Peet
by Cliff Gerrard
Voice John Howarth; Guitar & vocal intro; Dave Howard mandolin.
Every district ‘ad one--
Eawrs were Mrs Peet
Nob’dy used her fost name,
It seemed sort o’_ _ _indiscreet,
That “missus” were a title
Same as Princess, Lady, Dame,
Aw t’fellers raised their caps to her,
An’ saw t’kids did t’same,
‘Cos she were midwife,
layer – eawt,
Consultant, doctor, too,
Her had no letters to her name,
Some say her ne’er went
T’schoo’
Ah’m gooin’ back a bit_ _ _
Let’s see,
Aye, nineteen – twenty-odd,
When folks was clemmed, an’
Unemployed,
An’ losin’ faith in God,
When barefoot childer – trod
Wet flags,
Diptheria was rife,
An’ whoopin’ cough an’ rickets
Were aw part o’ family life.
Ah see her neaw, that
Parchment skin,
O’er some sick child a – prayin’
Folks allus sent for Missus Peet
‘Cos doctors wanted payin’.
An’ them as was past curin’
Her’d come an’ lay ‘em eawt
Wi’ pennies on their eye-lids,
(Her own money Ah’ve no deawt).
For every one her couldn’t cure
Another one geet born,
It’s th’ only time her smacked a child –
An’ them as did, her’d scorn.
It’s when folk talk o’ t’ Good
Owd Days
Ah thinks o’ Missus Peet,
An’ how Ah run her errands
For jam butties or a sweet,
Glycerine an’ ipecac,
Ointments made wi’ zinc,
Boil plasters an’ arrowroot,
Tablets coloured pink,
An’ how one day when Ah get back
Ah found her’d passed away,
“Malnutrition” t’local paper said,
‘Twere t’ district’s saddest day.
It’s when folk talk o’ t’ Good Owd Days
An’ moan at t’ price o’ meat,
Ah thinks o’ t’ Welfare State we had_ _ _
One woman – Missus Peet.
Voice John Howarth; Guitar & vocal intro; Dave Howard mandolin.
Every district ‘ad one--
Eawrs were Mrs Peet
Nob’dy used her fost name,
It seemed sort o’_ _ _indiscreet,
That “missus” were a title
Same as Princess, Lady, Dame,
Aw t’fellers raised their caps to her,
An’ saw t’kids did t’same,
‘Cos she were midwife,
layer – eawt,
Consultant, doctor, too,
Her had no letters to her name,
Some say her ne’er went
T’schoo’
Ah’m gooin’ back a bit_ _ _
Let’s see,
Aye, nineteen – twenty-odd,
When folks was clemmed, an’
Unemployed,
An’ losin’ faith in God,
When barefoot childer – trod
Wet flags,
Diptheria was rife,
An’ whoopin’ cough an’ rickets
Were aw part o’ family life.
Ah see her neaw, that
Parchment skin,
O’er some sick child a – prayin’
Folks allus sent for Missus Peet
‘Cos doctors wanted payin’.
An’ them as was past curin’
Her’d come an’ lay ‘em eawt
Wi’ pennies on their eye-lids,
(Her own money Ah’ve no deawt).
For every one her couldn’t cure
Another one geet born,
It’s th’ only time her smacked a child –
An’ them as did, her’d scorn.
It’s when folk talk o’ t’ Good
Owd Days
Ah thinks o’ Missus Peet,
An’ how Ah run her errands
For jam butties or a sweet,
Glycerine an’ ipecac,
Ointments made wi’ zinc,
Boil plasters an’ arrowroot,
Tablets coloured pink,
An’ how one day when Ah get back
Ah found her’d passed away,
“Malnutrition” t’local paper said,
‘Twere t’ district’s saddest day.
It’s when folk talk o’ t’ Good Owd Days
An’ moan at t’ price o’ meat,
Ah thinks o’ t’ Welfare State we had_ _ _
One woman – Missus Peet.
The Tinkers are indebted to Cliff Gerrard the author of this poem and others of his that have been used on discs and in performances.
Cliff met the Tinkers on many occasions but sadly died in the year 2000.The accompanying music was written for the psalm ‘The Lord’s my Shepherd’ by Gerry Kearns,
Cliff met the Tinkers on many occasions but sadly died in the year 2000.The accompanying music was written for the psalm ‘The Lord’s my Shepherd’ by Gerry Kearns,