I found this wonderful collection of Somerset Limericks in the 1930 Somerset yearbook and thought I would share a few.
The writer of the limericks is named Johnson Little.
‘Though the farmers are clever in Backwell,
Yet one of them never can stack well,
When the rick is blown down,
He says with a frown
Why on earth can I not learn the knack well?’
‘A farmer who lives at Bicknoller,
Is known well fro his spleen and Cholera
That his men will be brave,
When he goes to his grave,
You may wager your very last dollar’
‘When the traveller had left Bishops Sutton,
His face was as bright as a button,
But down fell his jaw,
The moment he saw,
He had missed the last train out of Clutton.’
‘If you board with the people of Burnham,
Never try from their notions to turn um,
For they hold that their visitors
Should not hold as inquisitors
But should stick to the things that concern em.’
‘A brute of a woman from Burtle
Threw aside her embarrassing kirtle,
With a fire in her eye, She began to let fly
And her poor little husband turned turtle’
‘A greedy old fellow at Clutton,
Was exceedingly partial to mutton,
He said it was nice
To eat slice after slice
And not stop until snap went a button’
‘There lived an old farmer in Combwich,
Who lived day after day with a thumb itch
Never mind said his wife
It shows there is life
Never once did a thumb that was numb itch’
‘A saint in the parish of Durleigh,
Was always a little bit surly,
And not without reason,
For whatever the season
He would go to bed late and rise early’
‘A tradesman that lives at East Coker,
Once threatened the life of a broker,
But his wife said don’t mind him
Quite harmless you’ll find him
My husband is such a great Joker’
‘Said a cocky young fellow at Fitzhead
My lad, you have only a tits head!
He replied tit for tat
Take this and take that
And sore for a week was the wits head’
‘When Saxons met Danes at North Brewham,
It would little avail to pooh-pooh them,
They knew they were foes,
So up they arose,
And for love of their country they ‘slew em’
‘An overman living at Oath,
Had a daughter he fain would bethroth,
Some stranger he said
I should like her to wed
For the lads in this village I loath.’
‘It is said by the people of Pilton,
That Cheddar is finer than stilton,
But they stare in dismay
When you ask them to say
If Shakespeare is finer than Milton’
‘To the church of St Lawrence at Priddy,
Went a sober old spinster named Biddy
But so strong was the air She inhaled while up there
She confessed it made her quite giddy’
‘We are glad that at last Stanton Prior,
Has a man who is called a live wire
Whether aged or young,
By the touch of his tongue
He can easily set them on fire’
‘There lives in the Hamlet of Stawell
A woman who knows how to bawl
When she talks to her young
Her wonderful tongue
Can be heard through an eighteen-inch wall’
‘A phrenologist settled in Trull,
Who was great on the bumps of the skull,
But he got a poor living,
For he always kept giving,
Full prove that his clients were all dull’
‘A young woman who lives at West Cranmore
Hopes to goodness her face will not tan more,
Her heart is as lead,
Since a novelist said,
That a chalky face pleases a man more’
Please feel free to share any further limericks that you have come across, either in the comments box or via email to me at amgouldsomersetauthor@gmail.com