Broadside ballad entitled 'The Flare-Up Factory Girl'

Transcription

THE FLARE-UP

FACTORY GIRL.

I'm a factory gal as you may see,
You'd like to know perhaps who I be ;
If you will listen to my rhyme,
I'll tell you now all in good time.
My mother lives down pot alley,
The boys all call me charming Sally ;
Be their delight I always shall,
While I'm a flare-up factory gal.

CHORUS.

Ki fum, ti fum, fun and glee,
you'll seldom see a gal like me ;
The folks all call me charming Sall.?
I'm a regular flare-up factory gal.

Mother sells apples, nuts, and cakes.
Of which my whack I always takes ;
Each morning I my pockets cram,
To give to Harry, Dick, or Sam.
As I am a handsome gal, you see,
One chap is not enough for me,
I've three or four,'cause I can,
Always pick a nice young man.

I sometimes has to mind the shop ,
While mother does to market pop,
What browns I take I make all right,
And hooks it to the play at night.
If on an errand I'm sent out ,
I always know what I'm about;
To nick a penny I contrive,
I bring four shilling tea for five.

Each morning I make it a rule,
To have a brown to go to school ;
And if my mother don't tip up,
Unto the fields I always cut,
I sport away there all the day,
And with the boys at rounders play
At marbles, too, or fly the kite,
And never goes home till it is night.

In learning I improve quite fast;
At school I am in the first class,
I learns to read, write, and spell
And missus says I does it well,
At needle work I'm quite expert,
For I've made uncle Bob a shirt,
Likewise some shifts and not a few,
And sheet and pillow cases, too.

Kind gentlafolks I hope Hat you,
Will give me all the praise that's due ;
Mark my behaviour and my face,
And get for me a tidy place.
Just take me for a month and try,
You'll see what handy gal am I ;
I'll make the beds and clean and. scurb
For a bob a week and all my grub.

But I'll conclude and and my song,
Lest I detain your time too long ;
I trust my faults you will excuse,
And one small favour don't refuse,
I'm sure, if you will speak the truth
You all have had the faults of youth,
Forgive me mine, and then you shall
[   ]ve thanks of the flare-up factory gal.

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