CUSTOMER-WARK.
A POETICAL SKETCH.
With a Marginal Commentary.
Part First.
I. |
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On the celebrated field of Philiphaugh, where Montrose fought his last battle in the cause of Charles the First, there now resides a poor weaver, who tells to strangers that his loom stands upon the very spot which the tent of the great Marquis once occupied. The scene of so many cares and councils has become the home of a contented and humble mechanic, who has only to battle with poverty, and whose whole ambition is to get a regular supply of |
ear Selkrit, where Leslie ance met wi’ Montrose,
And ga’e the King’s army its last bloody nose,
There lives an auld wabster, within an auld shiel,
As lang, and as ugly, and black as the de’il.
He works e’en and morn for his wife and his weans,
Till the very flesh seems to be wrought frae his banes;
Yet canty the wabster, and blyth as a lark,
Whene’er he gets what he ca’s customer-wark!
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II. |
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Customer-wark—that is, the employment of weaving the homespun linens and woollens of the industrious country wives and maidens, which yields a much better scale of profits than the staple commodities of Glasgow. The superiority of customer-wark over that sent out to the country villages by Glasgow manufacturers,—which is just the preference of straitened poverty over utter starvation,—forms the theme of this poem. |
This customer-wark’s the delight o’ his soul,
Whether blanket, or sheetin, or sarkin, or towel.
Nae trashtrie o’ cottons frae Glasgow he cares for,—
Their tippence the ell is a very gude wherefore;—
But God bless the wives, wi’ their wheels and their thrift,
That help the puir wabster to fend and mak’ shift;
Himsel’, and his wife, and his weans might been stark,
An it hadna been them and their customer-wark.
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III. |
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Description of the weaver’s house, which, having two apartments, belongs to the aristocracy of country cottages. |
The wabster’s auld house—it’s an unco like den,
(Though, atweel, like its neebors, it has a ben-en’!)
It’s roof’s just a hotter o’ divots and thack,
Wi’ a chimley dressed up maist as big’s a wheat-stack.
There’s a peat-ruck behind, and a midden before,
And a jaw-hole would tak a mile race to jump o’er!
Ye may think him negleckfu’ and lazy,—but, hark,
He’s better employed on his customer-wark!
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The weaver’s neglect of cleanliness and order, not to be attributed to laziness, but to the want of leisure, all his time being engrossed by the important business—customer-wark! |
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IV. |
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Furniture of the cottage. |
Whate’er ye may think him,—the wabster’s auld hut
Has twa looms i’ the ben, and twa beds i’ the butt,
A table, twa creepies, three chyres, and a kist,
And a settle to rest on, whene’er that ye list;
The ben has a winnock, the butt has a bole,
Where the bairns’ parritch-luggies are set out to cool,
In providin’ o’ whilk he has mony a day’s darque,
O’ saxteen lang hours at the customer-wark!
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The poor weaver has to work sixteen hours a day, in order to provide food for his children. |
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V. |
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The weaver’s wife a noisy scold, and appropriately named Bell. |
The wabster’s auld madam—her name it is Bell—
Lang, ugly, and black, like the wabster himsel—
She does nought the hale day but keeps skelpin the bairns,
And hauds three or four o’ them tight at the pirns.
Her tongue is as gleg and as sharp as a shuttle,
Whilk seldom but gi’es her the best o’ the battle;
And sometimes her neive lends the wabster a yerk,
That he likes na sae weel as his customer-wark!
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The children wind the pirns. |
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The wife’s tongue rivals the weaver’s shuttle both in sound and swiftness. |
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Worse than that, she occasionally lays on! |
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VI. | |
The weaver given to prosing upon his traditions of the battle. |
The wabster whiles jaunders a lang winter night,
On his ae single story—Montrose and the fight—
And tells how “the Sutors” stood aff up the brae,
Preservin’ their hides till the end o’ the play.
The wife she breaks in wi’—“Dear Jamie, what ken ye
’Bout feghts? ’Twill be lang or they bring you a penny!
Sic auld-warld nonsense is far frae the mark—
I wish ye wad mind just the customer-wark!”
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How the inhabitants of Selkirk stood off during the fight, not knowing, as they pretended, whether the battle was “in daffin” or in earnest, till they saw Montrose’s army fly, when they enthusiastically joined in the pursuit!!! | |
The wife, who has heard the story till she is sick of it, bids him mind his work, and not take up his head with things that do not put a penny in his purse. | |
VII. | |
The weaver was once told that great encouragement was given at New Lanark to weavers with large families, and for a long time craiked to be there. But the wife, who, with all her tongue, fists, etc., has some good sense, would not hear of removing to any such faraway country, and at last frightened him out of the humour he had taken, by saying that she had heard there was nae customer-wark to be got in Mr. Owen’s Utopia. |
The wabster has heard about ane they ca’ Owen,
That keeps twa-three toons in the wast-kintry growin’,
Where there’s weavers that live just like beass in their sta’s,
Without kirks or taxes, debts, hunger, or laws!
And he whyles thinks he’d like to be there;—but the wife
Knocks him down wi’—“Dear Jamie, man, ne’er fash your life!
Do ye think Mr. Owen, or ony sic clerk,
Could e’er gie ye ought like the customer-wark?”
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Part Second. | |
I. | |
Improvident domestic habits, in time of plenty, |
The black cutty-pipe, that lies by the fireside,
Weel kens it the day when a wab has been paid,
For then wi’ tobacco it’s filled to the ee,—
And the wabster sits happy as happy can be;
For hours at a time it’s ne’er out o’ his cheek,
Till maist feck o’ his winnings ha’e vanished in reek:
He says that o’ life he could ne’er keep the spark,
An it werena the pipe and the customer-wark!
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II. | |
Then the wife, that’s as fond o’ her pleasure as he,
Brings out a black tea-pot and maks a drap tea;
And they sit, and they soss, and they haud a cabal,
And ye’d think that their slaistrie wad never divaul.
By their wee spunk o’ ingle they keep up the bother,
Each jeerin’, misca’in’, and scauldin’ the tother;
While the bairns sit out by, wi cauld kale, i’ the dark—
Nae gude comes to them o’ the customer-wark!
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III. | |
produce proportionate want and misery in the exhaustion of their resources. |
When the siller grows scarce and the spleuchan gets toom,
The wabster gangs back to his treddles and loom,
Where he jows the day lang on some wab o’ his ain,
That’ll bring in nae cash for a twalmonth or twain;
Then the pipe lies exhaustit o’ a but its stink,
And the pourie is washed and set by on the bink;
There neglected they’ll lie, like auld yads in a park,
Till Heaven shall neist send some customer-wark!
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In the absence of customer-wark, the weaver flies to his dernier resort, the loom of reserve, on which he works a web for private sale, but which his funds will scarce allow him to carry on upon his own foundation. | |
The implements of luxury thrown by neglected. | |
IV. | |
Description of a process of starvation, which reduces the weaver from his natural and customary meagreness to a perfect anatomization. |
Then the puir starvin’ wabster grows thinner and thinner,
On a ’tatoe for breakfast, a ’tatoe for dinner,
And vanishes veesibly, day after day,
Just like the auld moon whan she eelies away.
Clean purged out he looks, like a worm amang fog,
And his face is the colour o’ sweens in a cogue.
At last, when grown hungry and gaunt as a shark,
He revives wi’ a mouthfu’ o’ customer-wark.
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A simile picked up in trout fishing. | |
The weaver saved, in his extremity, by a supply of his darling customer-wark. | |
V. | |
Arrival of a customer. |
A branksome gudewife, frae the neist farmer toon,
Comes in wi’ a bundle, and clanks hersel’ down,
“How’s a’ wi’ ye the day, Bell? Ha’ ye ought i’ the pipe?
Come rax me a stapper? the cutty I’ll rype!
I maun see the gudeman—bring him ben, hinney Jess!
Tut!! the pipe’s fu’ o’ naithing but fusionless asse!”
The wife ne’er lets on that she hears the remark,
But cries, “Jess! do ye hear, deme?—It’s customer-wark!!!”
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Familiar condescension of a farmer’s wife in visiting a weaver’s. | |
Disappointment on finding the hopeless state of the cutty. | |
Trait of the excitement produced in the household by the arrival of customer-wark. | |
VI. | |
Transport of the weaver himself at hearing the news. |
Having gotten her lick i’ the lug, Jess gangs ben,
And tells her toom father about the God-sen’;
Transported, he through the shop-door pops his head,
Like a ghaist glowrin’ out frae the gates o’ the dead.
Then, wi’ a great fraise he salutes the gudewife,—
Says he ne’er saw her lookin’ sae weel i’ his life,—
Spiers for the gudeman and the bairns at Glendeark,—
While his thoughts a’ the time are on customer-wark!
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His behaviour towards the customer. | |
Politeness and flattery. | |
Affected solicitude about his customer’s domestic welfare, while his whole soul is in reality entranced in the contemplation of customer-wark. | |
VII. | |
Makes himself immediately very busy in the delightful details prefatory to his employment. |
Then, wi’ the gudewife, he claps down on the floor,
And they turn and they count the hale yarn o’er and o’er:
He rooses her spinning, but canyells like daft
’Bout the length o’ her warp and the scrimp o’ her waft.
At last it’s a’ settled, and promised bedeen
To be ready on Friday or Fursday at e’en;
And the bairns they rin out, wi’ a great skirlin’ bark,
To tell that their dad’s got some customer-wark!
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Praises the wife’s handiwork, for courtesy’s sake, but does not approve of the bounds which her niggardliness has imposed upon the possibility of cabbage. | |
Rapture of the children, which is much more disinterested, and not less heartfelt, than the weaver’s own. | |
VIII. | |
Recovery from starvation. |
Then it’s pleasant to see, by the vera neist ouk,
How the wabster thowes out to his natural bouk,
How he freshens a thought on his diet o’ brose,
And a wee tait o’ colour comes back to his nose!
The cutty’s new-mountit, and everything’s snug,
And Bell’s tongue disna sing half sae loud i’ his lug;
Abstracted and happy, and jum as a Turk,
He sits thinking on nothing but customer-wark!
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Revival of former domestic comfort. | |
IX. | |
Concluding benediction upon customer-wark, and recapitulation of its virtues. |
Oh, customer-wark! thou sublime movin’ spring!
It’s you gars the heart o’ the wabster to sing!
An ’twerena for you, how puir were his cheer,
Ae meltith a day, and twa blasts i’ the year:
It’s you that provides him the bit, brat, and beet,
And maks the twa ends o’ the year sweetly meet,
That pits meat in his barrel and meal in his ark!
My blessings gang wi’ ye, dear customer-wark!
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