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BALLAD FOR OLD-FASHIONED FARMERS.
ON THE GREAT EXHIBITION

You may ray what you like to about the World’s Fair,
But I ‘ye no inclination nor wish to goo there.
Your Palace of Crystial I don’t care to see;
What good unto the [armer is it like for to be?
I hears a vast deal, and I s’pose I shall moor,
About that famous diniond the gurt Koh-i-Noor,
That’s wuth nigh a million, as folks do relate;
But what’s that with wheat down below thirty.eight?
there ‘s minerals, and physic, and ebymieal drugs, There’s tapestry, and floor-cloth, and carpets, and rugs, And there’s porcelain and crockery, so fine and so grand; But all that wun’t affoord no rehef to the land.
There’s wonderful statues, and fountains, and gates,
Upholstery, cutlery, fenders, and grates,
Kitchen-ranges and stoves for to fry, roast, and broil;
But there’s nothun to make the poor Varmer’s pot boil.
There ‘s gurt big steam-engines for fairings and toys,
Winch I dare say amuses the Manchester boys;
But all the World’s Fair no machine don’t contain
As will sarve us to screw up the prices of grain.
Your silks and your satins, your trinkets and such,
French, Austrian, and Roossian, and Proossian, and Dutch,
Shows fine cultivattion of vorreners’ taste,
When half of our soil here ‘s a-running to waste.
How much better off be we likely to be
For your coloured glass windows and gold filligree?
Which is all superstition and Popery of Rome,
And Free Trade, which is a-ruining your countrymen at home.
Oh! gie me the Fair which the World’s Fair beat brown— The Fair as was held nigh our own native town;
In the old turnpike-days afore railways was know’d,
Which have ruined every coachun-house by the side of the rhooad.
Oh! there was the beastices which the keeper did show;
The Lion from Africa, and Lioness also,
And the Lion’s Provider, the httle Jackal,
Besides the Royal Tiger that come from Bengal.
And there was the Elephant, like a Christian, almost,
As well as the play with the murder and the ghost;
And the ram with six legs and the learned pig to view,
And likewise the pig-faceS lady, and the pretty cockatoo.
Then what wonderful hossmanship also was show’d!
I remember BILLY Burrow, to Brentford as rode;
And the fine tight-rope dancing that also we sin,
And the Merriment a-balancun of ladders on his chin.
Then there was the cheese-fair, and hoss-fair as well,
Aecordin as you wanted to buy or to sell;
Spades, bill-books, and rip-hooks, and all Varmer’s tools,
When we was contented wt our vorevathers’ rules.
Them wicked inventions for grindun the earth,
In the Great Exhibition, I’m sure be nought worth;
Beyond the old plough no machine can avail,
Except and saving only a good slidun-scale.
At the World’s Fair, I’m told, there’s a deal I should learn,
But that for my life I can’t nohow discern;
Zo I wun’t go anigh it—no, I’d rather bide here,
A-smokun of my pipe and a-drinkun of my beer.