Waterford boys (The)

AKABoys of devotion (sic)
Wrestling with rats
First published1865
LyricsHarry CliftonMusicHarry Clifton RoudRN3107
Music Hall performersHarry Clifton
Folk performancesSource singers:
JW Green, 1935, Michigan USA
Albert Conray, 1942, Maine USA
Frank Knox, ca1950, Newfoundland
Paddy Tunney, 1965,Co. Fermanagh, N Ireland
Modern folk performances:
Dubliners, rec 1985
Tom Dahill, rec 1995
Seamus Creagh, rec 2008
Well boys for diversion we've all met together,
I'll tell how from Waterford hither I came,
I crossed the Big Ocean in dark gloomy weather,
My heart it was light and my pockets the same,
Sad at leaving Old Ireland but once more on dry land,
By the roadside a tavern I happened to spy,
And as I was melting, my pockets I felt in,
The price of a drink I was mortally dry.

For we are the boys of Fun, Wit and such eloquence,
Drinking and Dancing and all other Joys,
For Ructions Destruction Diversion and Devilment,
Who can compare with The Waterford Boys.

In the tavern I strolled, out the master he rolled,
'Morrow says he and says I if you please,
Provide me a bed but first bring me some bread,
And a bottle of porter and a small piece of cheese,
For times they are queer and provisions are dear
If you cannot get meet with cheese be content
Says the landlord "You're right" so he brought me the bite
I rolled up my cuffs and at it I went

My bread and cheese ended I then condescended,
To take my repose so I asked for a light,
And soon in a doze, I was  under my clothes,
I popped in my toes and I popped out the light.
But waking from sleeping, I heard something creeping,
Meandering and wandering about my bed post,
Squeaking and scratching thinks I 'mid my watching
'Pon my conscience you've mighty long claws for a ghost.

My breath I suspended, the noise it soon ended,
I ventured to peep from beneath the bed clothes,
"Millea Murther" what's that? A jumping jack rat
With one leap from the floor jumped right up to my nose."
Thunder sweep ye, says I, for a scheming older vagabone
Take that, and that, as I lept on the floor, 
Shouting murder and fire, Tim, Jerry, Mariah,
The rats are eating me up by the score

The landlord affrightened came with a light in
I'm murdered alive says I, so must away;
Says he, before going I'd have you been knowing, 
For your supper and bed you've five shillings to pay:
"Five shillings for what, Och don't be disgracing,
Yourself for a rogue, says I if you please,
When I can't sleep for rats, you've a brazen old face on you,
To charge me five shillings for dry bread and cheese. "

Says he, perish the rats I wish they would leave me
They ruin my trade and I'm not worth a rap,
Says I, "The five shillings would you forgive me,
And I'll tell you a way to keep out every rat."
"Agreed" then said I, "to supper invite them,
And plain bread and cheese set before them be sure,
Don't mind if they're willing, but charge them five shilling,
Bad luck to the rat you'll never see more.

This song has probably been a mainstay of the traditional Irish traditional repertoire since it was written in the 1860s. It has been collected from source singers both in Ireland and from the N. American continent, perhaps reflecting its popularity in the Irish emigrant community there. It has appeared regularly in broadsides and song books since it was written.

Harry Clifton was popular in Ireland and performed or wrote a whole series of songs which became seen as traditional Irish songs: The Waterford boys; Lannigan’s Ball (though there is some dispute about this one); The Wedding of Biddy McGrane and Darby Maguire.

Sources:

Last Updated on October 31, 2020 by John Baxter | Published: April 29, 2020

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