I'm Zebenteen Come Zunday- (IOW) 1886 Long
[From: "A Dictionary of the Isle of Wight Dialect, and of Provincialisms" by William Henry Long, 1886. A rather long introduction about Harvest Home precedes the fragmented text which is given in heavy dialect.
R. Matteson 2018]
"Hooam Harvest," or Harvest Home, as formerly celebrated, is now become a thing of the past, and lives only in the memory of a generation also fast passing away. Forty or fifty years ago it was kept in much the same style as from time immemorial, or as far back as the recollections of the " oldest inhabitant" reached; but then principally by the smaller farmers cultivating from 100 to 200 acres, who kept most of their men "in house," and supplied their "hands" with meat and drink during the "harvest month," following the customs of their fathers. The festivity of Harvest Home, and providing a supper for the farm labourers and servants of the farmer's household at the end of harvest, dates from the remotest antiquity, and was established in England for many generations before it was noted by Hentzner, who in the narrative of his journey into England in the year 1598, says: "As we were returning to our inn, we happened to meet some country people celebrating their Harvest Home. Their last load of corn they crown with flowers." Often, during the harvest month, on the conclusion of wheat or barley cart, the evening was ended after supper with songs, and an extra pint or two of strong beer was served all round to the labourers; the whole proceeding being a kind of rehearsal or foretaste of the real "Hooam Harvest," which crowned and concluded the labours of the month. All the labourers and extra men were engaged at so much for the "harvest month," and were provided with meat and drink during that time by the farmer, faring the same as his yearly servants engaged from Michaelmas to Michaelmas. On very busy days during harvest, if a field wanted clearing, or a rick to be finished in a given time, the carpenter and blacksmith who did the farm work came willingly with their apprentices and lent a hand, and were always invited to the Home Harvest supper as an acknowledgment.
The last load of the harvest being on the waggon, a "puncheon" of "nammet beer " was generally drunk round it in the field, and with green boughs stuck on the top, it proceeded, generally accompanied with cheering, to the "rickess." In the meantime the farmer's wife, with her maids, and help extraordinary from a neighbour of two, were busily engaged in cooking the eatables, arranging the tables, and putting things in order generally for the coming supper, and by the time the last load was "unpitched," the welcome announcement was made that all was ready. No second summons was needed, and in a very short time the carters, farm servants, and labourers, with faces glowing with expectation, and ruddy from a recent swill, arranged themselves round a long table; "meyaster" and his select circle, the carpenter and blacksmith generally included, being seated at a cross table at the top of the other, or if crowded, at a separate board, as near the labourers' table as convenient.
A large leg of mutton, a ham to match, or sometimes two; with mutton pies, or a chine, constituted the first course; followed by plum puddings of huge dimensions, sometimes accompanied by an apple pie of still larger diameter. "Meyaster" generally carved at the top of the table, and one of the invited guests at the bottom. All these dishes having been considerably lightened, and the table cleared,—"Menscsqve remotce, crateras magnos statuunt et vina coronant." Jugs of real " Hooam Harvest Stingo," with pipes and tobacco,, were placed before the men; and pipes and tobacco, with bottles of spirits, and the necessary ingredients for making grog, before "meyaster" and his party at the head of the table. Then one of the men was called upon for a song, and the business of the evening proceeded in the following fashion:—" Come Joe, open the ball, lets hay a zong." "I don't think I knows ar one, mayet." "I knows better than that, vor I've zid thee learnen one for the last dree weeks." "Well, what o' that? I dunno nor one all droo; and if I ded, I never was noo zinger." "Now then Joe, shet up! I've heerd ye rattle out 'I'm zebenteen come Zunday' proper, many's a time, zo let's hay it." "Well, if I most, I most, but I can't mind it all, I tell'ee." Joe, after a few vigorous hems, and a deep draught
"As I walked out one Maay mornen,
One Maay mornen so early,
I overtook a handsome maade,
Just as the zun was a risen.
Wi' my rum tum ta,
And my rum tum ta,
Fol lol the diddle lol the dido.
Now then come in coalbox [chorus] all zides,—ye don't half help a feller out. [Chorus repeated most vociferously.]
Her stockens white, her shoes was bright,
The buckles shined like zilver,
She had a black and a rollen eye,
And her hear hung down her showlders.
Wi' my rum tum ta, &c.
'How wold be you my pretty maade?
How wold be you my honey?'
She answered me right cheerfully,
'I'm zebenteen come Zunday.'
Wi' my rum tum ta, &c.
'Where be you gwyne my pretty maade?
Where be you gwyne my honey V
She answered me right cheerfully,
'On a arrant vor my mammy.'
Wi' my rum tum ta, &c.
Ah, there's a hole in the ballet, I can't mind no more on't; but there's two or dree more verses I used to know one time." "I knows there es, Joe; this is a bit o' the taail end on't:
'If you will come to my mammy's house,
When the moon shines bright and clearly,'—
I know this vrom hearen Joe zing it several years agoo." "That's right, mayet, it comes in zomewhere, but I can't mind the rest on't, 'tes zo long agoo I zung it, 'tes all in a midgemadge wi' me now; so jest come in coalbox once moore, and let's finish it,—
Wi' my rum tum ta, &c.
Now Varmer Ben, I hope, zur, you'll gee us one o' yourn now aater me, and I knows you can zing a good one or two." "No, no, Joe, I bean't up to consart pitch it; I'll come in vurder on, bimeby."