Hop my needle, burn my thread,
Come thread my needle, Jo-hey.
—Lincoln (C. C. Bell).
X.
Come thread a long needle, come thread,
The eye is too little, the needle’s too big.
—Hanbury, Staffs. (Miss Edith Hollis).
XI.
Thread the needle thro’ the skin,
Sometimes out and sometimes in.
—Warwickshire, Northall’s Folk Rhymes, 397.
XII.
Open the gates as wide as the sky,
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:—
Shrove Tuesday, Shrove Tuesday, when Jack went to plough,
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—
Open the gates as high as the sky,
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]
Tune Three Dukes Madeley
—Madeley, Shropshire (Miss Burne).
[Play]
Tune Three Dukes Biggar
—Biggar, Lanarkshire (W. Ballantyne).
[Play]
Tune Three Dukes Sporle
—Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews).
[Play]
Tune Three Dukes Isle of Man
—Isle of Man (A. W. Moore).
I.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
What is your good will, sirs?
Will, sirs? will, sirs?
What is your good will, sirs?
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Our good will is to marry,
To marry, to marry;
Our good will is to marry,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Marry one of us, sirs,
Us, sirs, us, sirs;
Marry one of us, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
You’re all too black and greasy [or dirty],
Greasy, greasy;
You’re all too black and greasy,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
We’re good enough for you, sirs,
You, sirs, you, sirs;
We’re good enough for you, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
You’re all as stiff as pokers,
Pokers, pokers;
You’re all as stiff as pokers,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
We can bend as much as you, sirs,
You, sirs, you, sirs;
We can bend as much as you, sirs,
With a rancy, tancy, tay!
Through the kitchen and down the hall,
I choose the fairest of you all;
The fairest one that I can see
Is pretty Miss ——, walk with me.
—Madeley, Salop (Miss Burne), 1891.
[Another Shropshire version has for the fourth verse—
Which of us will you choose, sirs?
Or,
Will you marry one of my daughters?]
II.
Here comes three dukes a-riding, a-riding,
With a ransome dansome day!
Pray what is your intent, sirs, intent, sirs?
With a ransome dansome day!
My intent is to marry, to marry!
Will you marry one of my daughters, my daughters?
You are as stiff as pokers, as pokers!
We can bend like you, sir, like you, sir!
You’re all too black and too blowsy, too blowsy,
For a dilly-dally officer!
Good enough for you, sir! for you, sir!
If I must have any, I will have this,
So come along, my pretty miss!
—Chirbury (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 517).
III.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
Pray what is your good will, sirs?
Will, sirs, will, sirs?
Pray what is your good will, sirs?
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
My will is for to marry you,
To marry you, to marry you;
My will is for to marry you,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
You’re all so black and blousey (blowsy?),
Sitting in the sun so drowsy;
With silver chains about ye,
With a rancy, tancy, tee!
Or,
[With golden chains about your necks,
Which makes you look so frowsy.]
Walk through the kitchen, and through the hall,
And pick the fairest of them all.
This is the fairest I can see,
So pray, Miss ——, walk with me.
—Leicester (Miss Ellis).
IV.
Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding,
Here come three dukes riding, riding, riding;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea (sic).
Pray what is your good will, sir, will, sir, will, sir?
Pray what is your good will, sir?
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
My will is for to marry, to marry, to marry,
My will is for to marry;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
Pray who will you marry, you marry, you marry?
Pray who will you marry?
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
You’re all too black and too brown for me,
You’re all too black and too brown for me,
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
We’re quite as white as you, sir; as you, sir; as you, sir;
We’re quite as white as you, sir;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
You are all as stiff as pokers, as pokers, as pokers,
You are all, &c.,
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
We can bend as well as you, sir; as you, sir; as you, sir;
We can bend as well as you, sir;
Ransam, tansam, tisum ma tea!
Go through the kitchen, and through the hall,
And take the fairest of them all;
The fairest one that I can see is “——,”
So come to me.
—Oxfordshire version, brought into Worcestershire
(Miss Broadwood).
V.
Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
And pray what do you want, sirs? want, sirs? want, sirs?
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
I want a handsome wife, sir; wife, sir; wife, sir;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
I have three daughters fair, sir; fair, sir; fair, sir;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
They are all too black and too browny,
They sit in the sun so cloudy;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
Go through my kitchen and my hall,
And find the fairest of them all;
With a ransom, tansom, titty foll-la!
With a ransom, tansom, tay!
The fairest one that I can see,
Is little —— ——, so come to me.
—Monton, Lancashire (Miss Dendy).
VI.
Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding, with a ransom, tansom, te!
Pray what is your intention, sir [repeat as above].
My intention is to marry, &c.
Which of us will you choose, sir, &c.
You’re all too black and too browsy, &c.
We’re good enough for you, sir, &c.
Through the kitchen and over the wall,
Pick the fairest of us all.
The fairest is that I can see, pretty Miss ——, come to me.
—East Kirkby, Lincolnshire (Miss K. Maughan).
VII.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
A-riding, a-riding;
Here come three dukes a-riding,
With a dusty, dusty, die!
What do you want with us, sirs? [repeat as above].
We’ve come to choose a wife, Miss, &c.
Which one of us will you have, sirs? &c.
You’re all too black and too browsy,
You sit in the sun so drowsy;
With a golden chain about your neck,
You’re all too black and too browsy.
Quite good enough for you, sirs, &c.
We walk in our chamber,
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).
VIII.
Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding,
Here come three dukes a-riding;
A randy, dandy, very fine day!
And pray what is your will, sirs? &c. [as above].
We come for one of your daughters, &c.
Which one will you have, sir? &c.
They are all as black as a browsie, browsie, browsie, &c.
One can knit, and one can sew,
One can make a lily-white bow;
One can make a bed for a king,
Please take one of my daughters in.
The fairest one that I can see
Is [ ], come to me.
—Gainford, co. Durham (Miss A. Edleston).
IX.
Here comes a poor duke a-riding, a-riding,
Here comes a poor duke a-riding;
With the ransom, tansom, tee!
Pray who will you have to marry, sir? &c.
You’re all so black and so dirty, &c.
We are quite as clean as you, sir, &c.
Through the kitchen, and through the hall,
Pick the fairest one of all.
The fairest one that I can see
Is ——,
The fairest one that I can see,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
—Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews).
X.
Here comes one duke a-riding,
A-riding, a-riding;
Here comes one duke a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, terrimus, hey!
What is your intention, sir? &c. [as above].
My intention is to marry, &c.
Marry one of us, sir? &c.
You’re all too black and dirty (or greasy), &c.
We’re good enough for you, sir, &c.
You’re all as stiff as pokers, &c.
We can bend as much as you, sir, &c.
Through the kitchen and through the hall,
I choose the fairest of you all;
The fairest one as I can see
Is pretty —— ——, come to me.
Now I’ve got my bonny lass,
Bonny lass, bonny lass;
Now I’ve got my bonny lass
To help us with our dancing.
—Barnes, Surrey (A. B. Gomme).
XI.
Here comes one duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
Here comes one duke a-riding
On a ransom, dansom bay!
You’re all so black and dirty, &c.
Pray which of us will you choose, sir, &c.
Up in the kitchen, down in the hall,
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).
XII.
Here comes one duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding,
Here comes one duke a-riding, with a ransom, tansom, ta!
Pray which of us will you choose, sir? &c.
You’re all so black and so blousey, &c.
We’re quite as white as you, sir, &c.
Up of the kitchen, down of the hall,
Pick the fairest girl of all;
The fairest one that I can see
Is —— ——, come to me.
—Suffolk (Mrs. Haddon).
XIII.
Here comes the Duke of Rideo,
Of Rideo, of Rideo;
Here comes the Duke of Rideo,
Of a cold and frosty morning.
My will is for to get married, &c.
Will any of my fair daughters do? &c.
[The word “do” must be said in a drawling way.]
They are all too black or too proudy,
They sit in the sun so cloudy;
With golden chains around their necks,
That makes them look so proudy.
They’re good enough for you, sir! &c.
I’ll walk the kitchen and the hall,
And take the fairest of them all;
The fairest one that I can see
Is Miss ——
So Miss ——, come to me.
Now we’ve got this pretty girl,
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).
XIV.
Here come three dukes a-riding, a-riding, a-riding,
Here come three dukes a-riding;
With a ransom, tansom, tisamy, tea!
What is your good will, sirs? &c.
My good will is to marry, &c.
One of my fair daughters? &c.
You’re all too black and browsy, &c.
Quite as good as you, sirs, &c.
[The dukes select a girl who refuses to go to them.]
O, naughty maid! O, naughty maid!
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).
XV.
Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
Here comes a duke a-riding, to my nancy, pancy, disimi, oh!
Which of us will you have, sir? &c.
You’re all so fat and greasy, &c.
We’re all as clean as you, sir, &c.
Come down to my kitchen, come down to my hall,
I’ll pick the finest of you all. The fairest is that girl
I shall say, “Come to me.”
I will buy a silk and satin dress, to trail a yard as we go to church,
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
I will buy you a gold watch and chain, to hang by your side as we go to church;
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
I will buy you the key of the house, to enter in when my son’s out;
Madam, will you walk? madam, will you talk?
Madam, will you marry me?
—Earls Heaton, Yorks. (H. Hardy).
XVI.
Here comes one duke a-riding,
With a rancey, tancey, tiddy boys, O!
Rancey, tancey, tay!
Pray which will you take of us, sir? &c.
You’re all as dark as gipsies, &c.
Quite good enough for you, &c.
Then we’ll take this one, &c.
[After all are taken, the dukes say]—
Now we’ve got this bonny bunch, &c.
—Hurstmonceux, Sussex, about 1880 (Miss E. Chase).
[A Devon variant gives for the third verse—
You are all too black and ugly, and ugly, and ugly.
And—
You are all too black and browsie, &c.
With the additional verse—
I walked through the kitchen,
I walked through the hall,
For the prettiest and fairest
Of you all.
Ending with—
Now I have got my bonny lass, &c.
And something like—
Will you come and dance with me?
—Devon (Miss E. Chase)].
XVII.
Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
Here comes a duke a-riding to the ransy, tansy, tay!
Pray what do you come riding for? &c.
For one of your fairy [? fair] daughters, &c.
Will either one of these do? &c.
They’re all too black and too dirty, &c.
They’re quite as clean as you, sir, &c.
Suppose, then, I take you, Miss, &c.
—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:—
Open the door and let him in.
They’re all as stiff as pokers.
Quite as good as you, sir.
I suppose I must take one of them?
Not unless you like, sir.
I choose the fairest of you all,
The fairest one that I can see
Is ——, come to me.
—Clapham Middle-class Girls School (Mrs. Herbertson)].
XVIII.
Here comes the duke a-riding,
With my rantum, tantum, tantum, tee!
Here comes the duke a-riding,
With my rantum, tantum, tee!
What does the duke a-riding want?
With his rantum, tantum, tantum, tee, &c.
The youngest and fairest daughter you’ve got, &c.
—Dublin (Mrs. Coffey).
XIX.
Here comes a duke a-riding, a-riding, a-riding;
Here comes a duke a-riding, a ransom, tansom, tee!
What is your good will, sir, &c.
My will is for to marry, &c.
Will ever a one of us do? &c.
You’re all so black and so browsy.
You sit in the sun and get frowsy,
With golden chains about your necks,
You’re all so black and so browsy.
Quite as good as you, sir, &c.
[There is more of this, but it has been forgotten by my
authority.]
—Thos. Baker, junr. (Midland Garner, N. S., ii. 32).
XX.
Here comes a duke a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
Here comes a duke a-riding,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
Pray what is your good will, sir?
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
Pray what is your good will, sir?
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
My will is for to marry you (as above).
Pray which of us will you have, sir? &c.
Through the gardens and through the hall,
With a ransom, tansom, titta passee!
I choose the fairest of you all,
With a ransom, tansom, tee!
—Settle, Yorks. (Rev. W. G. Sykes).
XXI.
There came three dukes a-riding, ride, ride, riding;
There came three dukes a-riding,
With a tinsy, tinsy, tee!
Come away, fair lady, there is no time to spare;
Let us dance, let us sing,
Let us join the wedding ring.
—West of Scotland (Folk-lore Record, iv. 174).
XXII.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
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).
XXIII.
Here come four dukes a-riding,
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
What is your good will, sirs?
Ring a me, ding a me, ding.
Our good will’s to marry, &c.
Marry one of us then, &c.
You’re too poor and shabby, &c.
We’re quite as good as you are, &c.
Suppose we have one of you then, &c.
Which one will you have, &c.
We’ll have —— to marry, &c.
Who will you send to fetch her, &c.
We’ll send —— to fetch her.
—Roxton, St. Neots (Miss E. Lumley).
XXIV.
Here come three dukes a-riding,
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.
Pray which of us will you have, sir (repeat as
above).
I think I will have this one (repeat).
......
[Forgotten, but the girls evidently decline to part with one
of their number.]
You are all too black and too blousy (repeat).
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).
XXV.