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Broadside ballad entitled 'The one pound two'



Now, Maggy dear, I do declare,
You have been on the spree,
Where is my whole weeks' wages gone,
I pray now tell to me.
When I come home at night I get
No smell of drink from you,
Yet I wish to know how you lay out
My one pound two.

Johnny, my dear, I have it here
Pen'd down in black and white,
Come count it up after me
And see if I am right;
You're told that I've been on the spree,
You'll find it is not true,
Now I'll let you know how I lay out
Your one pound two.

In the first place, there is three and two-
For two stones of flour,            [pence
And twopence halfpenny more for barm,
Although its rather sour;
And two shillings for potatoes,
I have paid this week, it's true,
That's five and four-pence halfpenny off
Your one pound two.

For two hundred of coals each week
One shilling I do pay,
Each morning, a fourpenny loaf,
And two on the Sabbath day;
And every morning for the child
A halfpenny, it is true,
That is just nine shillings off
Your one pound two.

There is seven-pence for sugar,
And seven-pence for tea,
And seven pence for tobacco,
That's a pennyworth per day.
There's two shillings paid for beef,
And you know no less will do,
And that is twelve and nine-pence off
Your one pound two.

There is a shilling gone for butter,
And that is of the best,
And four-pence more for vegetables,
Now add that to the rest.
And so, my dear, you want to know
What I with your money do,
That is fourteen and a penny off
Your one pound two.

There is nine-pence for a pound of ham,
And seven-pence for steaks,
And sixpence too, for candles,
It every week doth take;
And twopence for two herrings,
This week I paid for you,
That is sixteen and a penny off
Your one pound two.

There is three and sixpence paid for rent,
All that we do require,
And two-pence more I paid for sticks,
To kindle up the fire,
There is nine-pence more for milk,
Soap, soda, starch, and blue,
And the clockman and the clubman
Makes up your one pound two.

Some of the neighbours, Maggy, dear,
Against you do complain,
But let them all say what they will.
I see you are not to blame:
A virtuous woman is worth gold,
I find it to be true,
And, Maggy dear, you've counted up
My one pound two.

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Probable period of publication: 1840-1850   shelfmark: L.C.1270(007)
Broadside ballad entitled 'The one pound two'
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