Monday, August 11, 2014

Jim Master’s Blue Ribbon


Bob Clarkson’s Favourite

"No one could recite it as well as Bob"
Beatrice Radford Ames

You ask why I wear this ribbon
Such a faded strip of blue.
Though it’s faded I wouldn’t change it
For any fresh or new.
The fingers that pinned it here mates
Are folded in death’s deep sleep.
And this ribbon remains to remind me
Of a promise I have got to keep.

When I was a tall young fellow
Twenty years old or more
I grew too fond of the company
Inside of the tavern door.
I wasn’t to be called a drunkard
Like some of the chaps you meet,
But drink was becoming my master
And the taste of the cup was sweet.

I was courting then pretty Alice
The beauty of Derby Farm.
How proud I felt on Sunday
With her clinging to my arm.
Her hair like a cluster of sunbeams
Her face like a rose in June.
And weren’t we happy together
With our hearts singing loves old tune!

She was more than pretty my Alice.
She was good to the very core
And she wouldn’t give me peace mates
Till I promised to drink no more.
We almost came to quarrel
But Alice knew how to win
“Do you love me best.” She whispered
“Or that tavern with drink and sin?”

There was only one answer to that mates,
As you know if you love a lass.
So the end of it was I promised
I never would tough a glass.
Till Alice would give me leave to
She knew I would keep my word.
So our bans were read in Church mates
And the wedding bells were heard.

We two lived happy together
For seven short years or more
There was never a shadow of sorrow
Came across our cottage door.
We had one child, our little Rosie.
The light of our home was she.
If you’d wanted an angel on earth mates
It was she at the age of three.

But sorrow was waiting somewhere
And it didn’t forget to come.
Young Master, he got married
And brought his young bride home.
There were arches, banners, and feastings.
Supper for workmen and wives
A good sort of treat for the children,
The grandest of all of their lives.

We were all sitting round at our supper
When old Master rose from his chair
I wish to propose the health friends
To our newly married pair
So fill up your glasses high mates
And drink it with three times three
Good health and long life to man and wife
In the voyage of life’s long sea.

They came and filled up the glasses
With sparkling sherry wine,
But when they came towards me
I put my hand over mine.
“No wine for me sir, thank you.”
“No wine?  Why nonsense Jim
Not going to drink your Master’s health
And wish a long life to him?”

The end of it was they filled it
Tho’ it was sore against my will
To break my promise to Alice.
And somehow I couldn’t still
A sort of uneasy feeling
When I ought to of made a stand,
Stood up for the right and truth mates
And I couldn’t remove my hand.

We men stood round the table
When the women had all left that night
And I knew that me and the Devil
Were having a terrible fight.
He won, for I left that night mates
With the old love drink, newborn
And I staggered home drunk
In the early summer morn.

And many an evening after
Saw me at the tavern door.
And the wages went in at the till there
And our home grew bare and poor.
My Alice grew thin and careworn
My Rosie grew pale and weak.
And somehow I never heeded
Or missed the bloom from their cheeks.

Two years passed by like that Mates
And I never stopped to think
Of the sorrow at home in my cottage
And I was the slave of drink.
I never went with my darling
The blessings of God to seek
For who dare to go to church on Sunday
When they had been drinking all week?

One morning before I started to work
Little Rosie ran
And put her thin arms around me
And whispered “I’ve got a plan”
Oh such a happy evening
For you and Mother and me
If you come straight home from work Dad.
Oh say you’ll be home for tea?”

“Do Dad” she pleaded.
Her thin arms held me tight.
I couldn’t resist her winning ways
“I’ll be home my lass alright”
I meant it and started homeward
As soon as my work was done,
But again I fought with the tyrant
And again the tyrant won.

There was waiting in at the tavern
A dozen fellows or more.
They bullied and jaunted and jeered me
Till they got me inside the door
We men sat and drank that evening
Till a boy rushed in the like mad.
“Jim Master you Rosie is dying. 
She is pining to see her Dad”

Dying – my Rosie dying?
Oh mates that sobered me
I ran to our house like a mad man
And entered it silently.
I crept to the little chamber
Where Rosie lay still and white
She opened her eyes when she heard me
“I knew you’d come home tonight”

She whispered but oh so faintly
We scarce could hear what she said
The doctor beaconed me nearer
And I bent o’er the little bed
I couldn’t speak or kiss her
My tears fell down like rain
“I was coming to meet you Daddy
When the horses tore down the lane.”

She stopped and we thought she was going.
“But Daddy I wanted you
Just to write your name in my Pledge Book
And to wear this bit of blue.”
“I meant to ask you sooner
When the book was given me
But I darest not, and I planned it
To ask you tonight at tea.”

“You’ll do it now, won’t you Daddy.”
Here’s pen and ink to write
And I shall be ever so happy
When I know you’ve signed tonight.
And then when I get to Heaven
And the dear Lord asks for you
I’ll be able to say ‘He’s coming
For he’ll keep his promise true.’”

I wrote my name in the pledge book
Though I couldn’t see what I wrote
And with tiny trembling fingers
She pinned the blue on my coat.
“Oh, Daddy say you’ll promise”
Again her voice was heard
“I’ll promise my lass.  I’ll swear it.
God help me to keep my word.”

“Oh Mother” she said to Alice
She was holding her golden head
“Don’t you think the angels will be happy
When they’ve heard what Daddy said?”
“I’ll be waiting and watching in Heaven
Until the day God calls you to come
For without Father and Mother
It wouldn’t seem much like home.”

We watched and prayed and waited
Until just in the morning dawn
The angels came for Rosie
And left us there to mourn.
I’ve kept and God help me in keeping
My promise right firm and true
So you know why I wouldn’t part for the world
With this little bit of blue.

To Beatrice Radford Ames, Mary Clarkson Baskier wrote:
“Really!  This is such a lovely poem, but oh so sad – I’ve had a time to finish writing it out!”

Annie Waller's Recitation of Jim Master's Blue Ribbon


A half century ago, Jack Douglas Waller  recorded Granny Waller’s recitation of this Temperance Society poem on his Philips cassette recorder.   The moment and the message are as dear to him, as they are to many of us.  He has kindly shared it with us.

click on this link.
http://amesdale.org/brian/JimMasterBlueRibbon_AnnieWaller.mp3

The player icon below doesn't seem to work.



No comments: