Complaint about a ganger who works his men dangerously hard.
Absent Minded Ganger
(Dedicated without permission to Mr. Davies, Ganger, Spon Lane, L.& N.W. ) [Note 566.1]
When you've finished counting victims, when you've shouted like the rest,
When you've curs'd the gods for what you call your fate –
When you've suffered from his passion, and have felt his cruel jest—
Or have seen his anger fall upon your mate—
When you think of Freeth and Darby and the way he served them both,
When you consider his achievements in that line—
You'll begin by asking questions, and to pause you ,will be loth
Till you've learned that Davies now's been taught to whine
Slave's son, knave's son, son of the power of place,
Riding the high horse everywhere, he's glorified to-day!
Carry your precious burden hardy for he's laughing in your face—
What, can a strong man think of you ?—
He’s an absent-minded ganger, and his weaknesses are great,
And his victims may be counted by the score
But it doesn't matter greatly, for we're sorry to relate
His employers only cry aloud for more
For six months and a year he has carried on this game,
And his appetite for victims still is keen.
But at Euston they've a relish for those who men can tame— [Note 566.2]
And so they never read the lines between.
Fool's son, tool's son, dupe of the slave in power,
Bowing down for' the sake at a job, hear them shout “Hurray !"
Loading up the ballast(1) trains, working hour by hour,
What of the men who stand it all ?—