Come thread my needle, Jo-hey.
—Lincoln (C. C. Bell).
The eye is too little, the needle’s too big.
—Hanbury, Staffs. (Miss Edith Hollis).
Sometimes out and sometimes in.
—Warwickshire, Northall’s Folk Rhymes, 397.
And let King George and his lady go by.
—Ellesmere, Burne’s Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 321.
(b.) The children stand in two long rows, each holding the hands of the opposite child, the two last forming an arch. They sing the lines, and while doing so the other children run under the raised arms. When all have passed under, the first two hold up their hands, and so on again and again, each pair in turn becoming the arch. Mrs. Lloyd (Harpenden version) says the two first hold up a handkerchief, and the children all run under, beginning with the last couple. In the London version (Miss Dendy) the “last line is called out in quite different tones from the rest of the rhyme. It is reported to have a most startling effect.” The Warwickshire version is played differently. The players, after passing under the clasped hands, all circle or wind round one of their number, who stands still.
(c.) In some cases the verse, “How many miles to Babylon?” is sung before the verses for “Thread the needle,” and the reference made (ante, vol. i., p. 238) to an old version seems to suggest the origin of the game. This, at all events, goes far to prove that the central idea of the game is not connected with the sewing needle, but with an interesting dance movement, which is called by analogy, Thread the needle. It is, however, impossible to say whether the verses of this game are the fragments of an older and more lengthy original, which included both the words of “How many miles to Babylon” and “Thread the needle,” or whether these two were independent games, which have become joined; but, on the whole, I am inclined to think that “Thread the needle,” at all events, is an independent game, or the central idea of an independent game, and one of some antiquity.
This game is well illustrated by custom. At Trowbridge, in Wilts, a game, known as “Thread the needle,” used to be the favourite sport with the lads and lasses on the evening of Shrove Tuesday festival. The vocal accompaniment was always the following:—
His mother made pancakes, she didn’t know how;
She tipped them, she tossed them, she made them so black,
She put so much pepper she poisoned poor Jack.
—Notes and Queries, 5th series, xi. p. 227.
At Bradford-on-Avon, as soon as the “pancake bell” rang at eleven A.M., the school children had holiday for the remainder of the day, and when the factories closed for the night, at dusk the boys and girls of the town would run through the streets in long strings playing “Thread the needle,” and whooping and hallooing their best as they ran, and so collecting all they could together by seven or eight o’clock, when they would adjourn to the churchyard, where the old sexton had opened the churchyard gates for them; the children would then join hands in a long line until they encompassed the church; they then, with hands still joined, would walk round the church three times; and when dismissed by the old sexton, would return to their homes much pleased that they “Clipped the Church,” and shouting similar lines to those said at Trowbridge.
At South Petherton, in South Somerset, sixty or seventy years ago, it was the practice of the young folk of both sexes to meet in or near the market-place, and there commence “Threading the needle” through the streets, collecting numbers as they went. When this method of recruiting ceased to add to their ranks, they proceeded, still threading the needle, to the church, which they tried to encircle with joined hands; and then, whether successful or not, they returned to their respective homes. Old people, who remember having taken part in the game, say that it always commenced in the afternoon or evening of Shrove Tuesday, “after having eaten of their pancakes.” In Leicestershire County Folk-lore, p. 114, Mr. Billson records that it was formerly the custom on Shrove Tuesday for the lads and lasses to meet in the gallery of the Women’s Ward in Trinity Hospital to play at “Thread the Needle” and similar games.
At Evesham the custom is still more distinctly connected with the game, as the following quotation shows:—“One custom of the town is connected with a sport called ‘Thread my needle,’ a game played here by the children of the town throughout the various streets at sunset upon Easter Monday, and at no other period throughout the year. The players cry while elevating their arms arch-wise—
And let Victoria’s troops pass by.”
—May’s History of Evesham, p. 319.
As all these customs occur in the early spring of the year, there is reason to think that in this game we have a relic of the oldest sacred dances, and it is at least a curious point that in two versions (Bocking and Ellesmere) the Anglo-Saxon title of “Lady” is applied to the Queen.
The writer in Blackwood’s Magazine, who quotes the rhymes as “immemorial,” says: “Another game played by a number of children, with a hold of one another, or ‘tickle tails,’ as it is technically called in Scotland, is ‘Through the needle-e’e.’” Moor (Suffolk Words and Phrases) mentions the game. Patterson (Antrim and Down Glossary) gives it as “Thread the needle and sew.” Barnes (Dorset Glossary) calls it “Dred the wold woman’s needle,” in which two children join hands, and the last leads the train under the lifted arms of the first two. Holloway (Dictionary of Provincialisms) says the children form a ring, holding each other’s hands; then one lets go and passes under the arms of two who still join hands, and the others all follow, holding either by each other’s hands or by a part of their dress. “At Ellesmere,” Miss Burne says, “this game was formerly called ‘Crew Duck.’ It now only survives among little girls, and is only played on a special day.” It is alluded to in Poor Robin’s Almanack for 1738: “The summer quarter follows spring as close as girls do one another when playing at Thread my needle; they tread upon each other’s heels.” Strutt calls this “Threading the Taylor’s needle.” Newell (Games of American Children) gives some verses, and describes it as played in America.
See “How many miles to Babylon,” “Through the Needle ’ee.”
Three Days’ Holidays
Two players hold up their joined hands, the rest pass under one by one, repeating, “Three days’ holidays, three days’ holidays!” They pass under a second time, all repeating, “Bumping day, bumping day!” when the two leaders strike each player on the back in passing. The third time they say, “Catch, catch, catch!” and the leaders catch the last in the train between their arms. He has the choice of “strawberries or grapes,” and is placed behind one of the leaders, according to his answer. When all have been “caught,” the two parties pull against each other.—Berrington (Burne’s Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 522).
“Holidays,” says Miss Burne, “anciently consisted of three days, as at Easter and Whitsuntide, which explains the words of this game;” and the manorial work days were formerly three a week. See “Currants and Raisins.”
Three Dukes
[Play]
—Madeley, Shropshire (Miss Burne).
[Play]
—Biggar, Lanarkshire (W. Ballantyne).
[Play]
—Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews).
[Play]
—Isle of Man (A. W. Moore).
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Will, sirs? will, sirs?
What is your good will, sirs?
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
To marry, to marry;
Our good will is to marry,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Us, sirs, us, sirs;
Marry one of us, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Greasy, greasy;
You’re all too black and greasy,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
You, sirs, you, sirs;
We’re good enough for you, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Pokers, pokers;
You’re all as stiff as pokers,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
You, sirs, you, sirs;
We can bend as much as you, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
—Madeley, Salop (Miss Burne), 1891.
[Another Shropshire version has for the fourth verse—
Or,
With a ransome dansome day!
With a ransome dansome day!
For a dilly-dally officer!
So come along, my pretty miss!
—Chirbury (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 517).
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
Will, sirs, will, sirs?
Pray what is your good will, sirs?
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
To marry you, to marry you;
My will is for to marry you,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
Sitting in the sun so drowsy;
With silver chains about ye,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
Or,
Which makes you look so frowsy.]
And pick the fairest of them all.
So pray, Miss ——, walk with me.
—Leicester (Miss Ellis).
Here come three dukes riding, riding, riding;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea (sic).
Pray what is your good will, sir?
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
My will is for to marry;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
Pray who will you marry?
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
You’re all too black and too brown for me,
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
We’re quite as white as you, sir;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
You are all, &c.,
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
We can bend as well as you, sir;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
And take the fairest of them all;
So come to me.
—Oxfordshire version, brought into Worcestershire (Miss Broadwood).
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
They sit in the sun so cloudy;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
And find the fairest of them all;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
Is little —— ——, so come to me.
—Monton, Lancashire (Miss Dendy).
Here come three dukes a-riding, with a ransom, tansom, te!
Pick the fairest of us all.
—East Kirkby, Lincolnshire (Miss K. Maughan).
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a dusty, dusty, die!
You sit in the sun so drowsy;
With a golden chain about your neck,
You’re all too black and too browsy.
We sit in our hall,
We choose the fairest of you all;
The fairest one that we can see
Is little —— ——, come to me.
—Wakefield, Yorks. (Miss Fowler).
Here come three dukes a-riding;
A randy, dandy, very fine day!
One can make a lily-white bow;
One can make a bed for a king,
Please take one of my daughters in.
Is [ ], come to me.
—Gainford, co. Durham (Miss A. Edleston).
Here comes a poor duke a-riding;
With the ransom, tansom, tee!
Pick the fairest one of all.
Is ——,
The fairest one that I can see,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
—Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews).
A-riding, a-riding;
Here comes one duke a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, terrimus, hey!
I choose the fairest of you all;
The fairest one as I can see
Is pretty —— ——, come to me.
Bonny lass, bonny lass;
Now I’ve got my bonny lass
To help us with our dancing.
—Barnes, Surrey (A. B. Gomme).
Here comes one duke a-riding
On a ransom, dansom bay!
And choose the fairest one of all.
The fairest one that I can see
Is pretty Miss ——, so come to me.
—Bocking, Essex (Folk-lore Record, vol. iii., pt. ii., pp. 170-171).
Here comes one duke a-riding, with a ransom, tansom, ta!
—Suffolk (Mrs. Haddon).
Of Rideo, of Rideo;
Here comes the Duke of Rideo,
Of a cold and frosty morning.
[The word “do” must be said in a drawling way.]
They sit in the sun so cloudy;
With golden chains around their necks,
That makes them look so proudy.
And take the fairest of them all;
The fairest one that I can see
Is Miss ——
So Miss ——, come to me.
This pretty girl, this pretty girl;
Now we’ve got this pretty girl,
Of a cold and frosty morning.
—Symondsbury, Dorsetshire (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 222-223).
Here come three dukes a-riding;
With a ransom, tansom, tisamy, tea!
You won’t come out to me!
You shall see a blackbird,
A blackbird and a swan;
You should see a nice young man
Persuading you to come.
—Wrotham, Kent (Miss Dora Kimball).
Here comes a duke a-riding, to my nancy, pancy, disimi, oh!
I’ll pick the finest of you all. The fairest is that girl
I shall say, “Come to me.”
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
—Earls Heaton, Yorks. (H. Hardy).
With a rancey, tancey, tiddy boys, O!
Rancey, tancey, tay!
[After all are taken, the dukes say]—
—Hurstmonceux, Sussex, about 1880 (Miss E. Chase).
[A Devon variant gives for the third verse—
And—
With the additional verse—
I walked through the hall,
For the prettiest and fairest
Of you all.
Ending with—
And something like—
—Devon (Miss E. Chase)].
Here comes a duke a-riding to the ransy, tansy, tay!
—Clapham, London (Mrs. Herbertson).
[Another version is played by the duke announcing that he wants a wife. The circle of maids and duke then reply to each other as follows:—
The fairest one that I can see
Is ——, come to me.
—Clapham Middle-class Girls School (Mrs. Herbertson)].
With my rantum, tantum, tantum, tee!
Here comes the duke a-riding,
With my rantum, tantum, tee!
With his rantum, tantum, tantum, tee, &c.
—Dublin (Mrs. Coffey).
Here comes a duke a-riding, a ransom, tansom, tee!
You sit in the sun and get frowsy,
With golden chains about your necks,
You’re all so black and so browsy.
[There is more of this, but it has been forgotten by my authority.]
—Thos. Baker, junr. (Midland Garner, N. S., ii. 32).
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
Here comes a duke a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
Pray what is your good will, sir?
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
I choose the fairest of you all,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
—Settle, Yorks. (Rev. W. G. Sykes).
There came three dukes a-riding,
With a tinsy, tinsy, tee!
Let us dance, let us sing,
Let us join the wedding ring.
—West of Scotland (Folk-lore Record, iv. 174).
A-riding, a-riding.
.....
They will give you pots and pans,
They will give you brass;
They will give you pots and pans
For a pretty lass.
—Penzance, Cornwall (Mrs. Mabbott).
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
—Roxton, St. Neots (Miss E. Lumley).
With me rancy, tansy, tissimy tee,
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tissimy tee.
......
[Forgotten, but the girls evidently decline to part with one of their number.]
We’re far too good for you, sir (repeat).
—Isle of Man (A. W. Moore). Played at a Manx Vicarage nearly sixty years ago (Rev. T. G. Brown).