Uncle Ned; or the Preston Strike


You may see of a truth that the people are not dead
Though they said that they died long ago
But we've risen from our sleep a holiday to keep
Determined to work under price no more 

Chorus: So we've put by the roving(1) of the keel(2)
                And hung up the wire(1) on the wall
                And we'll never be content till we get our ten percent [Note 662.1]
                In spite of their let well alone

Old Ned(1) wants a rest for we're sure that he is tired
And he cannot speak for himself
We'll put in a word that certain to be herd
And place his crank grinding magic on the shelf.

The fields they are green and fragrant are the flowers
And the birds sweetly warble their tunes
These things we'll enjoy while we hold our holiday
'Twill be pleasenter than piecing up our ends [Note 662.2]

We have spirit tho we're poor we've pride altho' a mob
We wish for the honour of our town
Yet we'll wander far and wide whatever may betide
And cadge(2) too before we'll knuckle down