THE ORIGIN OF TWO POPULAR POEM

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2140, 30 January 1880, Page 3

THE ORIGIN OF TWO POPULAR POEM

Hood’s touching. lyric, “ The Song of the Shirt,” was the work of an evening. Its author was prompted to write it by the condition of thousands of working women in the City _ of London. The effect of its production was foreseen by two persons, the poet’s wife and Mark Lemon, the Editor of “Punch” “How mind Tom —mind my words,” said his devoted wife, this will toll wonderfully, It is one of the best things .you . ever did.” Mr Lemon, looked over his letters one morning, opened an envelope enclosing

a poem which the writer said had been rejected by three London journals. He begged the editor to consign it to the waste-paper basket if it were not thought suitable.for “Punch,” as the author “ was sick of the sight of it.” The poem avas signed Tom Hood, and Avas entitled “ The song of the shirt.” It was submitted to the weekly meeting of the editors and principal contributors, several of whom opposed its publication as unsuitable to tbc pages of a comic journal; Mr Lemon, however, avas so firmly impressed with its beaut}- that he published it on the 16th December 18X8. “ The Song of the Shirt” trebled the sale of the paper and created a profound sensation throughout Great Britain. People of every class were moved by it. It was chanted by ballad singers in the streets of Loudon, and drew tears in the eyes of princes. Some years after the author’s death the English people erected a monument over the grave. The rich people gave guineas, the laborers and sewing women gave shillings and pence. Sculptured on it is the inscription devised by himself: “He sang the Song of the Shirt.” “ The Old Oaken Bucket ” was written fifty or more years ago by a printer named Samuel Woodworth. He Avas in the habit of dropping into a noted drinking-saloon kept by one Mallory. One day after drinking a glass of brandy and Avaler, he smacked his lips and declared that Mallory’s brandy was superior to any drink he had ever tasted. “No” said Mallory, “ you are mistaken. There is a drink which-in the estimation of us both far surpassed this.” “ What Avas that?” incredulously asked WoodAvorth. ,‘ The fresh spring water wc used to drink from the old oaken bucket that hung in the well, after returning from the fields on a sultry day.” Very true,” replied WoodAvorth, tear drops glistening in his eyes. Eeturuing to his printing-office, he seated himself at his desk and began to Avritc. In half-an-hour.

“ The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound

bucket. The moss bound bucket AA’hich hung in the Avell,” Was embalmed in an inspiring song that has become as familiar as houscholod Avords.