General   (General discussion, talk about anything.)

‘OR JEM
(A cautionery tale)

‘Or Jem, 'e wer a bonny blade
As an iron moulder he plied 'is trade.
Mary wer is good and faithful wife,
Her an't kids, wer't comfort of his life.

They had two childer, Joe a lad, an' Jane a lass
An at wickends, on’t common, mony hours they’d pass.
Their life it wer ard, an at times they hadn’t much t’eat
Yet thy’d see Jem in his local, on each Friday neet.

Mary, ofe’n grieved, and wer ofe’n thinkin,
How for't stop Jem from his pay day drinkin'
Then one Christmas Eve, at 5 o’clock, when foundry whistle blew,
To mark t’end of Jem’s shift, un rest of his black faced crew.

They aw lined up near t’office door to claim their well earned pay
“Hurray” they sheawted “No work tomoro. Fo' tomorrow it’s Christmas Day”
An after slaving all wick, casting ingots of iron,
Wi brass in his pocket, nae Jem wer off t’Red Lion.




“I’ll just aw a couple or three, maybe four,”
Jem said to himsel as he walked thro t’pub door.
It wer t’TAP ROOM. MEN ONLY, no women or gals,
An sat in t’corner, Jem spied a group of his pals.

“A pint of best bitter Joe?” Jem, t’landlord did ask,
“An I don’t want no slops. I want it from t’cask”.
“Drinks all round”, Jem proclaimed, and his pals they did cheer
As it wern’t every day they wer given chance o’ free beer.

As’t day reached its end, so did Jem’s cash.
Eee wor'a neet. It wer one hell of a bash.
What would Mary do, he’d drunk away aw ‘is pay,
An as Jem staggered wom, he planned wor'ed say.

“I wer set on wi robbers. They took all mi dosh
They came at mi wi a club, a knife, and a cosh”.
What could I do, it wer four onto one,
I bashed a few yeds then I didn’t half run”.

Mary looked in his face and wi tears in her eyes
Sobbed, “Gi me no tales Jem, don’t tell me no lies
Thy’s bin boozin wi thi mates deawn at Red Lion.
I can smell beer on thi breath I know that your lyin”


“NEY I’VE NOT” Jem cried, as his ire grew worse
As at his wife he started to shout and to curse
It wer t’drink that wer makin Jem t’scream and t’swear
An wi is yed in his hands he slumped into t’armchair

But Mary was still at him, “Your nowt bur'a foo’ ,
Or Joe has mooer sense, an he’s just started scoo’.”
Summat snapped inside Jem as he sprang from his chair,
And the next he knew, he wer alone, standing there.

Wi't poker in hand and Mary on’t floor, at his feet.
“Oh worrava done to my darling, my sweet”?
Jem bent deawn by't side her, and lifted her yed,
But by the look on her face, Jem knew she wer dead.

Buyin ale, all neet fer his pals, an playin the CARD,
The result of his folly naw hit Jem so hard.
Jem‘s only thoughts now wer, for his childer to see,
Joe wer only five years old and Mary but three.

Two little angels, they wer Jem’s pride and joy,
His gorgeous little girl an' his handsome young boy.
He tried not to make no noise on the floor wi his tread.
But the two empty stockings hangin at t’foot of the bed,


Wer to much for Jem, and he brast into tears,
What was to become of ‘em all, no hope, only fears.
Jem climbed in t’bed, praying for sleep, please to find,
But th'appenings that day played all neet on his mind.

The next thing, Jem heard wer a familiar voice, from afar.
“Cum on owd lad, it’s time thy went wom. I want to shut bar”.
It wer Joe’s voice he wer hearin, Joe, landlord t’pub,
“An 'ere, tek this Five Pound. Thy’s won Christmas Raffle at club,

Thy’s bin a sleep fer two ‘ours. Thy’ll ‘ave your Mary so mad,
But to have thi wom i' one piece, I’m sure she’ll be glad”.
“Dust mean I’ve bin sat ere all neet, I’ve never left this ere place?”
“Aye, an thy’s supped plenty ale” Joe said, wi a grin on his face.

Well Jem jumped up a dancin an laffin, then he cried wi relief,
His heart, now brastin wi joy, not like before, full o’ grief.
Like a dog frae a trap, Jem ran from yon room.
“Thank You God” Jem prayed, “Please get me wom soon”.

As he raced along t’streets, to get wom to his kin
His sparkin' clog irons on cobbles didn’t half make a din.
As he lifted door latch, thinking, “what within will I find?"
“Jem is that you” came a voice, sounding ever so kind.


“Mary my Mary”, Jem grabbed her, an' kissed her again, an’ again.
This neet I’ve sin wot cud ‘ave bin, and wot drink can do to poor men.
An he towd ‘er ert nightmare he’d had, frae t’time he’d got his wicks pay,
An' how, he’d drunk, along, wi his pals, all t’money he’d just drawn that day.

He looked ‘ard at Mary, wi luv in his eyes,
An wot he said next to her, cum as a surprise.
“I promise thi this, on paydays to cum, in t’Red Lion, I’ll ne'er be found.
It’s gooin't be best Christmas yet. We can ‘ave a bloody good time wi Five pound”