T'Jumble Sale

I'll tell yer about t'rough an tumble tale

Of ahr Jane Ann an t'Jumble Sale

Which brought in close on ten pounds ten,

But set her back ten pounds hersen

A fact which varry near killed

Her interest in t'Womens Guild

Shid a champion lot o stuff ter sell

An she selt it reight enough

In fact, she went an queered her pitch

By sellin just a bit too much

Though t'planners were to blame an all 

For lettin her av t'oddments stall

At first they thought they'd backed a winner 

But t'lass were just a green beginner

As she discounted to her cost when she'd ter pay fer what were lost

Rebecca Fletcher's new spring hat

Were snapped up in 5 seconds flat

An Kate Shaws coit wi t'fur lined collar 

Went in no time for a dollar

She sold Matilda Bailey's brolly 

For next ter nought, while t'Guild tea trolley

Wer soon wheeled off bi Tommy Spence

Who gor it for just eighteen pence

One cheeky looking chap walked up

An pointed to a lovin cup

Which t'president had just down

on t'Guild piano, "Half a crown" 

Said our Jane Ann, an when he'd paid

He brought two cronies to is aid

To lift yon silver lovin cup

An overstrung t'piano up!

In t'finish, when all t'crowds ed gone,

An t'women folk were left alone

They totted up their tekkins when 

They reached a record 12 pun 10

Said Mrs Bagshaw, pleased at this,

"A cup an tea won't come amiss"

"We've addled one" said Mrs Hewitt,

"Come on, lass, I'll help thee brew it."

But both of em grew melancholy 

As they looked in vain for t'Guild tea trolley

While t'pianist, young Bessie Brook,

Put on a pained and puzzled look

An asked in a distracted manner

"What's happened to t'owd piano?"

An very shortly after that, 

Rebecca Fletcher missed her hat

An what she said caused some owd dears

To put their hands about their ears

Tho that were nought to what went on

When Katie Shaw found her coit gone

Immediately she joined in 

An set to work to double t'din

At last they seemed to cotton on

To what Jane Ann ad gone un done

You should av seen her face grow red

At what her fellow members said

Her legs gave way, t'shock a'most bowed em

When they telled her what she owed em

"Ah can't pay that", wailed poor Jane Ann,

"Except on nivver nivver plan."

An to this day wi nivver fail

To mek her go pale

At t'mention of a jumble sale!