TRIGGER WARNING: This is a Ha'penny Horrid 'Hursday episode. "Horrid" as in "horror." Thursday is the day we do all the grimdark, grisly, horrifying stories. If murders, war crimes, parricides, and other awful stuff are not something you are interested in hearing about, even 200 years later — feel free to skip this episode and circle back this coming Sunday for the regular Penny Dreadful Variety Hour, when this podcast will be back to being a bright, sunny romp through Penny Dreadful stories!
A half-hour- long 'Hursday Horrid Minisode IN WHICH —
0:03:00: TERRIBLE TIDBIT OF THE DAY for July 31:
- An account of two dreadful suicides, one highly suspicious, recounted in Household Words Magazine in 1850 and 1853 respectively, penned by editor Charles Dickens;
0:05:30: HORRIBLE MURDER OF A CHILD BY STARVATION (from The Terrific Register):
- The horrific story of Sarah and Sallie Metyard, mother and daughter, two mitten-knitters whose abuse of their apprentices crossed into murder one day in 1762. One of their victims, Anne Nayler, is rumored to haunt Farringdon Station, which was later built on the gulley-hole in which her body was dumped, to this day.
0:17:00: THE HARTLEPOOL TRAGEDY (a broadsheet ballad).
- In June of 1727, a merchant named William Stephenson murdered his pregnant mistress by hurling her off the moor and into the sea. He was caught and hanged the following month. This broadsheet ballad, printed in the early 1800s and sold on the streets by criers, tells her story in prose and verse.
PLUS —
- A few allegedly-funny "dad jokes" from Joe Miller's Jests, to lighten the mood a little.
Join host Finn J.D. John. for a half-hour-long spree through the darkest and loathliest stories seen on the streets of early-Victorian London! Grab a flicker of blue ruin, switch off your mirror neurons, and let's go!
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:06):
As I was walking on London St. 1, misty morning early, I heard
a fair young maid, the cry Lord save me the life of Georgie.
Top of the Thursday evening to all you high pads, Spice
Islanders and nights of the brush and moon.
I'm your host Finn JD John welcoming you back once again to
(00:29):
the Chafing Crib. It's Hapeni horrible hers day
once again on the Penny Dreadfulvariety hour show in time for
the Thursday night Hapeni horrible half hour.
It's a shorter show to tide you over till next Sunday, and it's
the show in which we do all the week's horrid blood soaked, gore
spattered stories so that or more squeamish friends can skip
(00:50):
over the blood and guts bits. If you're following the six
dreadfuls that we're reading from, fear not, we won't be
reading from any of them tonight, so you can safely skip
over this whole episode and not miss anything except the
vicarious trauma. I do want to make sure, Speaking
of vicarious trauma, that I warnyou the content on these
Thursday shows ranges from unpleasant to horrific.
(01:14):
If grim murders, war crimes, parasites, and other awful stuff
are not something you're interested in hearing about even
200 years after the fact, pleasedo us both a favor and just skip
ahead. This Sunday's episode will once
again be a bright, sunny romp through the penny dreadful
stories. But these Thursday shows a
really dark. This is where we put all the
(01:36):
dark stuff Thursday. Maybe I'm overselling this
point, but I don't want to be responsible for you having
nightmares tonight. Speaking of tonight, it is a
work night, so go easy on the tears of the tankard, will you?
Maybe a nice saucer cup full of cat lap.
Spike it with a little red tape if you're feeling adventurous.
But Oh yeah, real quick, a high pad is a robber who works on
(01:57):
foot, and a Spice Islander is a macer that is a swindler.
Well, here's what we've got in store for tonight.
First, of course, we're going tohear all about today's terrible
tidbit from Dickens Dreadful Almanac.
Then we'll be tucking into one of the longer and grizzlier
stories from the terrific Register.
(02:17):
Brace for some pretty vivid wordpictures of Spanish Inquisition
tortures, horrid murders, Hwy. robber depredations, and similar
atrocities. Then we'll try to find a song or
two celebrating the bloody career of some highway robber or
war criminal from the first halfof the 1800s or maybe the 1700s.
And finally we'll have another little something.
(02:38):
Maybe another nasty story from the terrific Register, Maybe a
spot of gallows humor from 180 year old comedy magazine, or
maybe some more Joe Miller jokes, just to leave things on a
slightly less morbid note. So let's get to it.
We're starting the Festiff and he's off with the Terrible
Tidbit of the day. These are actually written by
(02:59):
Charles Dickens. I know he's a little bit more
upmarket than we usually go, butDickens wasn't always writing
Victorian masterpieces like David Copperfield and Bleak
House. Each terrible Tidbit of the day
is taken from this really excellent book titled Dickens
Dreadful Almanac. It's a History Press title
edited by Kate Ludlow that's subtitled A Terrible Event for
(03:21):
Every Day of the Year. She has taken all these terrible
events directly from the pages of Household Words, the magazine
that Charles Dickens used to edit during the 1850s.
And here's today's July 31st A determined act of suicide was
(03:41):
committed on the 31st alt by a man and the employee of the
Great Western Company named Watts.
In the morning he left home to see, as was his custom, where
his or his men's services were needed, and about 12:00 was
observed to be standing, apparently in a thoughtful mood,
near the Wallingford station. Shortly after that hour an
express train was seen coming up, and on its approach toward
(04:04):
the station the deceased man ranforward and threw himself across
the rails by the engine. He was struck and knocked
forward at least 150 yards, and the whole of the carriages
passed over him, mutilating him in a dreadful manner. 1851 A
most appalling suicide occurred on Sunday morning, the 31st Alt,
(04:26):
at the House of Missus Burns, Fruterer, London St.
Greenwich. The unfortunate deceased,
Lavinia Mary Cuthbert, was a married woman, who with her
husband for some time past, had been in the employ of Mr. Show,
corn dealer, but had lately beendischarged.
It appears that she went to her bedroom and after a short time
was discovered to have ripped open her stomach with her
(04:48):
husband's razor, and before medical assistance could be
brought to her aid she had expired.
An inquest was held next day when the jury returned a verdict
of temporary derangement. 1853 As a side note here, if you
believe that woman ripped her own stomach open with her
husband's razor, I've got some beachfront property in the
(05:09):
Arizona Territory over here in the colonies that I would be
willing to sell you cheap. I wonder who killed her?
Probably her husband, but at this late date, we're never
going to know. I bet heavy money, though, that
it was not by her own hand. Now it's time for a longer and
even more horrible article, courtesy of the terrific
(05:31):
Register. Seriously, this one is about as
grim as it gets. It was in the era of the Penny
Dreadful's a well known true Crime Story.
Before I lay it on you, I want to recall to your mind, if I
can, the story of Ellen, the pretty young cap maker's
apprentice. Not Ellen Folder, she's from
Spring Hill Jack, but Ellen. We didn't get her last name, but
(05:52):
she's a great admirer of highwayman Dick Turpin, who
rescued her from evil haggish cap maker Lady Missus Brettel,
who was beating her to force herto start turning tricks.
Remember her from Chapter 8? This story is quite likely where
author Edward Coats got the ideafor that scene.
Here we go. Horrible murder of a child by
(06:17):
starvation. This lengthy article is
accompanied by an extraordinarily gory woodcut of
what appears to be two women cutting the throat of 1/3.
Possibly a child. The annals of crime scarcely
furnish a more diabolical instance of cruelty than the one
we are about to record. But the circumstances of the
(06:40):
murder are eclipsed in point of hardened depravity by the means
taken to conceal it. In July, 1762, Sarah Metyard and
Sarah Morgan Metyard, mother anddaughter, were placed at the bar
of the Old Bailey for murder of Anne Naylor, a girl 13 years of
age. By shutting up and confining
her, and starving her to death. There was also a second
(07:02):
confinement for the murder of Mary Naylor, her sister, aged 8
years. The unfortunate child, Anne, it
appeared, had been apprentice tothe elder prisoner, and it was
principally on the evidence of her own apprentices that she and
her daughter were convicted. They deposed that about
Michaelmas, 1758, Anne Naylor attempted to escape.
(07:23):
She was used so I'll being frequently beaten with a thick
walking stick in a hearth broom and made to go without her
vittles. The day she endeavored to run
away, a milk maid who served thefamily stopped her as she was
running away from the door and brought her back to the
prisoners. The daughter dragged her back
upstairs while the mother held her head beat her cruelly with a
broomstick. She was then tied up with a rope
(07:45):
around her waist, and her hands fastened behind her, so that she
could neither sit nor lie, and in this position she remained
for three days without food. During this period she never
spoke, but used to stand and groan.
At the end of three days the witness observed that she did
not move. She hung double, and when this
was mentioned to the daughter she said she'd make her move.
(08:06):
She ran upstairs and struck her with a shoe, but there was no
animation in her. The mother came up, laid the
child across her lap, and sent one of the girls for some drops.
The girls were ordered downstairs, and the unhappy
victim was never afterwards seenby them, in order to remove the
suspicion of her death from the minds of the apprentices by
leading them to imagine she had made her escape.
(08:27):
The old woman, two days after this, left the Garrett door open
and the street door ajar, and sent one of the girls upstairs
to tell Naylor to come down to dinner.
The girl returned with the intelligence of the door being
open and Naylor missing. The old woman made answer.
She's run away. I suppose she ran away while we
were at dinner, the girl replied.
Then she left her shoes behind her.
(08:49):
Oh returned the other. She would not stay for her
shoes. Richard Rooker deposed that he
lived in the prisoner's house about 3 months, which was long
since the child had been missing.
He observed the children were very ill used and had very
little food. When they had any, they were not
allowed more than 5 minutes to eat it.
The old woman's disposition was so violent that she was obliged
(09:11):
to remove, and out of compassionto the daughter, who was
repeatedly beaten by her, he took her into his service.
The mother, however, would not suffer her to remain in peace.
She came almost every day insulting the witness and the
daughter. On one occasion he heard a cry
of murder, and going to a littleroom he found the girl in agony,
struggling with the old woman. She had driven her up into a
(09:32):
corner and had got a sharp, pointed knife in her hand with
which she was attempting to stabher.
During the altercation he heard the daughter say to the mother,
Mother, mother, remember the gully hole?
Sometime after he questioned thegirl as to the meaning of those
words, and when, with great reluctance, she told him that
the child and her sister had both been starved to death.
(09:53):
That a few days after Anne Naylor's death, the body was
carried up into a Garret and locked up into a box, where it
was kept upwards of two months until it became putrefied and
maggots came from her. The mother then took it out of
this box, cut it in pieces, cut off the arms and legs, and burnt
one of the hands in the fire, cursing her that her bones were
so long consuming, saying the fire told no tales.
(10:15):
Then she tied the body and head in a brown cloth, and the other
parts in another. Being part of the bed furniture.
She carried them to the Chick Lane Gully hole, and threw them
in. Her mother told her as she was
coming back, she saw one Mr. Inch, who kept a public house
near Temple Bar, who cried out what a stink there is, to which
she replied that he had it all to himself, for she smelt none.
(10:37):
She called for some Brandy, and went away.
In consequence of this confession, Rooker wrote a
letter to the officers of the parish where he dwelt,
acquainting them with the particulars.
Thomas Lovegrove, overseer of Saint Andrews, deposed that on
the 12th of December, at near 12at night, the constable came to
him with two Watchmen, and told him there were parts of a human
body lying at the gully hole in Chick Lane.
(11:00):
He went with them to the spot, and the smell of the body was so
offensive that the Watchmen wereunwilling to remove it.
It was at length taken to the workhouse, The parts were washed
and laid upon a board. A coroner's inquest set upon it
and returned a verdict of willful murder.
In the meantime, in consequence of Rooker's letter, the mother
and daughter were apprehended. Some other witnesses were
(11:20):
examined, who corroborated the essential parts of the above
evidence. The mother, when asked for her
defense, told a lame story of the girls running away, and
called one or two witnesses to prove that she used her
apprentice as well, and gave them sufficient food, but in
this they failed. One of them said she had never
been in her house at mealtimes, and never saw the children have
any. He described the place in which
(11:41):
they worked to be a little slip room, 2 yards wide at the widest
part, and tapering at the end. The daughter denied all
participation in the murder, accepting the concealment, and
threw all the odium on her mother.
When the girl was dead, she saidI desired my mother to apply to
the parish to have her buried. She said I was a fool, for if
she did, everybody would see that the girl had been starved,
(12:03):
and if the girls were asked theycould tell how long she went
without vittles. I then asked her to get the
other girls not to say how long they had been kept without food,
but this she replied would be useless, as it would be
discovered on opening the body. She told me if I would stay with
her till she was out of danger Ishould go to service.
When I thought she was out of danger I begged to go to service
(12:23):
as she proposed. She said no, I should not, I
should stay with her while she was in the house.
She said I might tell and be damned, for if I did she would
swear I killed her, and she secreted my crimes.
The body was never buried. She wanted me one night to help
her in dividing the body in pieces, and said I need not be
afraid of her now she was dead, for she would not bite me.
(12:44):
This was two or three months after the girl died.
I told her indeed I could not. I was then with her up in the
room. I offered to go out, but she
told me I must help her. I got out of the room and she
caught hold of my clothes. I cried.
She said. What would the girls think
seeing me cry so? How could I be such a cruel
brute as to leave her? I told her she had brought it on
herself, and must get out of it how she could.
(13:07):
After that she told me she had done the limbs up in one bundle,
and tied the body and head in another.
She tried to get the head off, but could not.
She brought them downstairs, andfirst took the limbs out and
carried them to the gully hole in Chick Lane.
She said she tried to fling themout over the wall, but could
not. Then she came and took the other
bundle, which she said she carried to the same place, and
found the other parts lying there.
(13:28):
One night, after the children were gone to bed, she brought
down the hand which had a stump finger.
She said she would make a way within the fire, because the
fire concealed everything. Here the elder prisoner
interrupted her daughter by saying that it was all false,
and that if she had burnt any part she might as easily have
burnt all, to which the other replied, she said she would
destroy it all in the fire, but that would make a smell and
(13:50):
alarm the neighbors. The daughter called a few
witnesses to character, but boththe prisoners were found guilty.
Death. The interval between their
condemnation and execution, was spent in mutual recrimination
when they were visited in their cell.
No pen can describe the anguish of soul and horror visible in
both their countenances. Both equally persisted in
(14:11):
denying the guilt of the murder.But the daughter, in the vigor
of youth, was most averse to die, to avoid which she had
pleaded most pathetically for a little respite, and after this
illegal plea of pregnancy had been set aside by a jury of
matrons the whole night previousto their execution, the mother
had continued in a fit, speechless, without any motion,
except strong convulsions, whichwere ascribed to her long and
(14:34):
obstinate fasting, with a view to destroy herself before the
execution. Being put into the cart, the
mother was laid along at the bottom in a state of
insensibility, and when they arrived at Tyburn she continued
in a fit, scarcely seeming to breathe or move, except now and
then with a convulsive twitch, her breast appearing greatly
swelled and heaving, she was obliged to be supported till she
(14:56):
was turned off. The daughter still persisted in
her innocence of all but the concealment, and added that she
died a martyr to her innocence. Well, that was a regular ray of
sunshine, wasn't it? A quick note by way of an
update. Both Sarah and Sally Met Yard
(15:16):
were handed over to the Medical College to be dissected after
their execution. And there is a legend that the
ghost of Anne Naylor still haunts Farringdon Station which
was built on the site of the gully hole into which the poor
things body was dumped. Both the Naylor girls were
parish girls. Charity cases raised by a local
church. Oliver Twist in Dickens novel
(15:37):
was a parish boy. Before we move on, let's talk a
little bit more about this one. Significantly, the child this
woman murdered was an apprenticelike Ellen, The Apprentice that
Dick Turpin rescued in chapter 8of Black Bass who I mentioned
earlier. The events that this story
chronicles happened in 1762 and it was very much in circulation
when Edward Coats started writing his Dick Turpin story
(15:59):
and it happened during the quotegood old times when highway
robbers like Dick Turpin were still a thing.
Sarah met Yard was a mitten knitter.
So these apprentices were all supposedly learning how to make
mittens. If you'll recall from the story
of Mrs. Brattle, the wicked old woman cap maker who's a young
apprentice Dick Turpin rescued from her debauchery.
(16:19):
There are some parallels, and I think it's pretty likely that
Edward Coats was thinking about Sarah Met Yard when he wrote
that chapter. In any case, this case sure
brought the subject of apprentice abuse to the public
consciousness. So if there's a silver lining to
this very dark cloud of a story,it's that for our next segment,
we'll be dipping into the trove of broadsheet ballads that's
(16:42):
available at the National Library of Scotland.
This particular one also is pretty grim.
An introduction to the story appears at the top of the
ballad. The ballad supposedly was
written by the murderer himself,although I am very skeptical of
that. I cannot imagine an actual
murderer wanting to sing a song about his crime and guilt, still
less picking a popular heir to which folks could hum it.
(17:04):
But you shall judge for yourself.
The Hartlepool Tragedy, A broadsheet ballad sold on the
street in printed form. Printed by BT Ord of High Street
London. Data unknown, but probably very
early in the 1800s, Mary Farding, a stranger in the town
(17:29):
of Hartlepool, was thrown over the Cliff into the sea, near
unto a place known by the name of the Maiden's Bower, on the
4th day of June, in the year 1727.
The small rock detached from theMoor a few yards to the north of
what is called the Battery, and near to which the new lighthouse
is erected, cannot fail from itssingular situation to attract
(17:52):
the notice of strangers. The space which separates this
rock from the mainland is known by the name of the Maiden's
Bower. The principal evidence against
Stevenson, a native of Northallerton in Yorkshire, was
an aged female, whose window looked in the direction of the
town Moor. While sitting at her spinning
wheel she observed these two people walking together, and
(18:14):
having for a moment withdrawn her attention, she saw the man
alone. Whether this information is in
accordance with truth, or it is only a fragment of the
traditional account, is now perhaps of little consequence.
Extract from the Hartlepool Church register book.
Mary Farting, a stranger who by the coroner's inquest was found
(18:35):
to be murdered by William Stevenson, merchant in
Northallerton, to whom she was pregnant.
Buried 7 June 1727. July 1727.
William Stevenson was executed in the city of Durham in a copy
of this old lamentable ditty, printed by White of Newcastle.
(18:56):
It is said to have been written by the murderer himself while in
prison, and to have been given by him to a friend just previous
to his execution. Tune since Celia, my foe, Oh
Lord, I'm undone. Thy face I must shun.
I've angered my God and displeased his son.
I dare not come nigh, thy dread majesty.
(19:18):
Oh, where shall I hide my poor soul when I die?
Thy vengeance I dread on my guilty head.
My actions all over are wicked indeed.
No devil inhale that from glory fell can now with my blood
guilty soul parallel her affections I drew, How could I
embrew my hand in her blood? Oh my God, I must rue the cursed
(19:40):
hellish deed I made her to bleed.
That never did wrong me in thought or in deed.
I used my whole art till I stoleher heart and swore to befriend
her and still take her part. Then being beguiled, she soon
proved with child, which made her weep sorely.
But I only smiled with sighs, and with groans, and with tears
(20:00):
and with moans. She uttered such plaints as
would soft and Flint stones. Oh, where shall I hide the shame
of she cried? Dear Sir, take some pity, and
for me provide. I feared she'd breed strife
twixt me and my wife, and that all my friends would lead me a
sad life. Then Satan likewise did join and
(20:21):
surmise, and made me a hellish contrivance devise.
I promised her fair that I wouldtake care of her and her infant,
and all things prepare at Hartlepool Town, where she
should lie down. Poor soul, she believed me as
always she'd down thus wickedly bent with her.
I then went so little, expectingmy bloody intent.
(20:42):
We then drank some ale, and I did prevail to take a walk out,
which we did without fail. We then took our way to the
brink of the sea, and there in afury I to her did say, You
impertinent whore that covets mystore, I'm fully resolved you
shall plague me no more. She, dreading her fate, alas,
when too late did call out for mercy, while I did her beat with
(21:05):
the whip in my hand. Being unable to stand, she ran
backward and fell from the rock to the strand.
At this dreadful fall in her blood she did sprawl, yet had
not the power on heaven to call to blacken my crime the babes
that were mine. I could perceive them stirring
within her some time in hopes that the sea would wash her
away. I hastened homeward without more
(21:27):
delay, but was taken soon to receive my sad doom, and must
suffer shamefully just in my bloom, which makes my heart ache
and ready to break. I pray my dear Savior some pity
to take on a Sinner the worst, lewd and bloody and cursed to
owes his damnation both righteous and just.
But Oh my God, why should my Savior die if not to save
(21:49):
sinners as heinous as I? Then come cart and rope both
strangle and choke. For in my Redeemer I still trust
and hope that all men beware when married.
They are lewd. Women are surely a dangerous
snare. Then love your own wives, for
them only thrives who always live pious and chaste in their
lives. And now, before we mizzle off
(22:15):
into the sunset, let's try and lighten the mood a little bit
with a few dorky jokes courtesy of Joe Miller's Jests or the
Wits Vade Meekum, pragmatic young fellow sitting at table
over against the learned John Scott, asked him what difference
was there between Scott and Sot.Just the breadth of this table,
(22:37):
answered the other. Another poet asked Nat Lee if it
was easy to write like a madman as he did.
No, answered Nat, but it is easyto write like a fool as you do,
Molly, who, notwithstanding his odes, has now and then said a
good thing, being told one nightby the late Duke of Wharton,
that he expected to see him hanged or beggared very soon.
(23:00):
If I add your graces, politics and morals, said the Laureate,
you might expect both. Sir Thomas Moore, when Lord
Chancellor being pressed by counsel of the party for a
longer day to perform a decree meaning to stay late, said take
St. Barnaby's day, the longest in
the year. It happens to be next week.
(23:23):
This famous Chancellor, Sir Thomas Moore, who preserved his
humor and wit to the last momentwhen he came to be executed on
Tower Hill. The headsman demanded his upper
garment as his fee. Oh, friend, said he taking off
his cap. That, I think, is my upper
garments. When Rabelais, the greatest
droll in France, lay upon his deathbed, he could not help
(23:46):
jesting at the very last moment for having received the extreme
unction. A friend, coming to see him,
said that he hoped he was prepared for the next World.
Yes, yes, replied Rabelais. I am ready for my journey now.
They have just released my boots.
Henry the 4th of France reading an ostentatious inscription on
(24:08):
the monument of a Spanish officer.
Here dies the body of Don, et cetera, et cetera, who never
knew what fear was then, said the king.
He never snuffed a candle with his fingers.
A certain member of the French Academy, who was no great friend
to the Abbot, Furtier one day took the seat that was commonly
(24:29):
used by the Abbot, and soon after having occasion to speak,
and Furtier being by that time Come in.
Here is a place, said he, gentlemen, from whence I am
likely to utter 1000 impertinences.
Go on, answered Furtier. There's one already.
When Sir Richard Steele was fitting up his great room in
(24:51):
York buildings for public orations, he happened at one
time to be pretty much behind hand with his workmen, and
coming one day among them to seehow they went forward, ordered
one of them to get into the rostrum and make a speech, that
he might observe how it could beheard.
The fellow mounting and scratching his Pate, told him he
knew not what to say, for in truth he was no orator.
Oh, said the knight, no matter for that speak anything that
(25:13):
comes uppermost war here, Sir Richard, We have been working
for UV six weeks and cannot get 1 penny of money.
Pray, Sir, when do you design topay us?
Very well, Very well, said Sir Richard.
Pray come down. I've heard quite enough.
I cannot but own you speak very distinctly, though I don't
admire your subject. Well, that's it.
(25:38):
A short life and a dreary one, as it were.
This concludes the hapony, horrible Hers day episode of
Penny Dreadful Variety Hour. I hope you will join me again 3
days from now. Same spring healed time, same
spring healed channel for our next Penny Dreadful story, our
main show, in which we've got Chapter 5 of Rose Mortimer or
(25:58):
the ballet Girl's Revenge, written by an anonymous author
in 1865, and Chapter 5 of The Mysteries of London by George W
and Reynolds in 1844. In Rose Mortimer, we're going to
see Rose as a rising star in theballet.
Her great triumph is as Goddess of mourning in a Christmas show,
after which Count Lerno approaches her, telling her he
(26:21):
has a message from her father and offering to take her to him.
She hesitates, distrusting him. Then Jack Halliday comes into
view. So the Count seizes her, bundles
her into the carriage, and gallops away with her into the
night. Is he really taking her to her
father, or has he something moresinister in mind?
Well, it's Count Lerno, so of course he has something more
sinister in mind. What will happen to her?
(26:43):
Will she escape the fate worse than death at the hands of this
cruel villain? We shall soon hear in the
mysteries of London. Richard Markham's father has
died of a broken heart, leaving him the estate at the tender age
of 19. We follow him to London where in
Hyde Park he meets a wealthy, well dressed man about town.
Or is he perhaps a man upon town?
(27:06):
We have our suspicions anyway. He introduces himself as Arthur
Chichester, Richard's new friendinvites him to dine with a
friend that night. But is Arthur Chichester all he
appears? He's a little too brassy, almost
as if playing a role, and he sure can hold a lot of liquor.
How much trouble is our naive young friend in?
Well, we'll find out. And all that, plus some more
(27:29):
flash. Can't.
Words are coming your way this Sunday night all at Dick
Turpin's Scragging Hour 537, AKA1737 Military Time this Sunday
eve. Our theme music is a version of
Golden Slippers, A minstrel showsong written by James A Bland in
1879. This version is by Seattle old
(27:51):
Time band $4.00 Shoe. For more of their music, just
Google $4.00 Shoe. It'll pop right up.
No matter how you spell it, the Penny Dreadful Variety Hour is a
creation of Pulp Lit Productions.
For more details, see pulp-lit.com.
To get in touch with me, hit me up at finn@pulp-lit.com.
Thanks again for joining me Manabs.
It is time now for us to Pike off like we just spotted a red
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West. Get down the lane for the Penny
Dreadful variety hour. I'm Finn, JD, John signing off
and now fair forth and fill up the rest of the week with all
that is Rumty Tum with the chilloff Bye now.
As I was walking on London St. 1, misty morning early, I heard
a fair young maid, the cry Lord save me the life of Georgie.
Top of the Thursday evening to all you high pads, Spice
Islanders and nights of the brush and moon.
I'm your host Finn JD John welcoming you back once again to
(00:29):
the Chafing Crib. It's Hapeni horrible hers day
once again on the Penny Dreadfulvariety hour show in time for
the Thursday night Hapeni horrible half hour.
It's a shorter show to tide you over till next Sunday, and it's
the show in which we do all the week's horrid blood soaked, gore
spattered stories so that or more squeamish friends can skip
(00:50):
over the blood and guts bits. If you're following the six
dreadfuls that we're reading from, fear not, we won't be
reading from any of them tonight, so you can safely skip
over this whole episode and not miss anything except the
vicarious trauma. I do want to make sure, Speaking
of vicarious trauma, that I warnyou the content on these
Thursday shows ranges from unpleasant to horrific.
(01:14):
If grim murders, war crimes, parasites, and other awful stuff
are not something you're interested in hearing about even
200 years after the fact, pleasedo us both a favor and just skip
ahead. This Sunday's episode will once
again be a bright, sunny romp through the penny dreadful
stories. But these Thursday shows a
really dark. This is where we put all the
(01:36):
dark stuff Thursday. Maybe I'm overselling this
point, but I don't want to be responsible for you having
nightmares tonight. Speaking of tonight, it is a
work night, so go easy on the tears of the tankard, will you?
Maybe a nice saucer cup full of cat lap.
Spike it with a little red tape if you're feeling adventurous.
But Oh yeah, real quick, a high pad is a robber who works on
(01:57):
foot, and a Spice Islander is a macer that is a swindler.
Well, here's what we've got in store for tonight.
First, of course, we're going tohear all about today's terrible
tidbit from Dickens Dreadful Almanac.
Then we'll be tucking into one of the longer and grizzlier
stories from the terrific Register.
(02:17):
Brace for some pretty vivid wordpictures of Spanish Inquisition
tortures, horrid murders, Hwy. robber depredations, and similar
atrocities. Then we'll try to find a song or
two celebrating the bloody career of some highway robber or
war criminal from the first halfof the 1800s or maybe the 1700s.
And finally we'll have another little something.
(02:38):
Maybe another nasty story from the terrific Register, Maybe a
spot of gallows humor from 180 year old comedy magazine, or
maybe some more Joe Miller jokes, just to leave things on a
slightly less morbid note. So let's get to it.
We're starting the Festiff and he's off with the Terrible
Tidbit of the day. These are actually written by
(02:59):
Charles Dickens. I know he's a little bit more
upmarket than we usually go, butDickens wasn't always writing
Victorian masterpieces like David Copperfield and Bleak
House. Each terrible Tidbit of the day
is taken from this really excellent book titled Dickens
Dreadful Almanac. It's a History Press title
edited by Kate Ludlow that's subtitled A Terrible Event for
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Every Day of the Year. She has taken all these terrible
events directly from the pages of Household Words, the magazine
that Charles Dickens used to edit during the 1850s.
And here's today's July 31st A determined act of suicide was
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committed on the 31st alt by a man and the employee of the
Great Western Company named Watts.
In the morning he left home to see, as was his custom, where
his or his men's services were needed, and about 12:00 was
observed to be standing, apparently in a thoughtful mood,
near the Wallingford station. Shortly after that hour an
express train was seen coming up, and on its approach toward
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the station the deceased man ranforward and threw himself across
the rails by the engine. He was struck and knocked
forward at least 150 yards, and the whole of the carriages
passed over him, mutilating him in a dreadful manner. 1851 A
most appalling suicide occurred on Sunday morning, the 31st Alt,
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at the House of Missus Burns, Fruterer, London St.
Greenwich. The unfortunate deceased,
Lavinia Mary Cuthbert, was a married woman, who with her
husband for some time past, had been in the employ of Mr. Show,
corn dealer, but had lately beendischarged.
It appears that she went to her bedroom and after a short time
was discovered to have ripped open her stomach with her
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husband's razor, and before medical assistance could be
brought to her aid she had expired.
An inquest was held next day when the jury returned a verdict
of temporary derangement. 1853 As a side note here, if you
believe that woman ripped her own stomach open with her
husband's razor, I've got some beachfront property in the
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Arizona Territory over here in the colonies that I would be
willing to sell you cheap. I wonder who killed her?
Probably her husband, but at this late date, we're never
going to know. I bet heavy money, though, that
it was not by her own hand. Now it's time for a longer and
even more horrible article, courtesy of the terrific
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Register. Seriously, this one is about as
grim as it gets. It was in the era of the Penny
Dreadful's a well known true Crime Story.
Before I lay it on you, I want to recall to your mind, if I
can, the story of Ellen, the pretty young cap maker's
apprentice. Not Ellen Folder, she's from
Spring Hill Jack, but Ellen. We didn't get her last name, but
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she's a great admirer of highwayman Dick Turpin, who
rescued her from evil haggish cap maker Lady Missus Brettel,
who was beating her to force herto start turning tricks.
Remember her from Chapter 8? This story is quite likely where
author Edward Coats got the ideafor that scene.
Here we go. Horrible murder of a child by
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starvation. This lengthy article is
accompanied by an extraordinarily gory woodcut of
what appears to be two women cutting the throat of 1/3.
Possibly a child. The annals of crime scarcely
furnish a more diabolical instance of cruelty than the one
we are about to record. But the circumstances of the
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murder are eclipsed in point of hardened depravity by the means
taken to conceal it. In July, 1762, Sarah Metyard and
Sarah Morgan Metyard, mother anddaughter, were placed at the bar
of the Old Bailey for murder of Anne Naylor, a girl 13 years of
age. By shutting up and confining
her, and starving her to death. There was also a second
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confinement for the murder of Mary Naylor, her sister, aged 8
years. The unfortunate child, Anne, it
appeared, had been apprentice tothe elder prisoner, and it was
principally on the evidence of her own apprentices that she and
her daughter were convicted. They deposed that about
Michaelmas, 1758, Anne Naylor attempted to escape.
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She was used so I'll being frequently beaten with a thick
walking stick in a hearth broom and made to go without her
vittles. The day she endeavored to run
away, a milk maid who served thefamily stopped her as she was
running away from the door and brought her back to the
prisoners. The daughter dragged her back
upstairs while the mother held her head beat her cruelly with a
broomstick. She was then tied up with a rope
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around her waist, and her hands fastened behind her, so that she
could neither sit nor lie, and in this position she remained
for three days without food. During this period she never
spoke, but used to stand and groan.
At the end of three days the witness observed that she did
not move. She hung double, and when this
was mentioned to the daughter she said she'd make her move.
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She ran upstairs and struck her with a shoe, but there was no
animation in her. The mother came up, laid the
child across her lap, and sent one of the girls for some drops.
The girls were ordered downstairs, and the unhappy
victim was never afterwards seenby them, in order to remove the
suspicion of her death from the minds of the apprentices by
leading them to imagine she had made her escape.
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The old woman, two days after this, left the Garrett door open
and the street door ajar, and sent one of the girls upstairs
to tell Naylor to come down to dinner.
The girl returned with the intelligence of the door being
open and Naylor missing. The old woman made answer.
She's run away. I suppose she ran away while we
were at dinner, the girl replied.
Then she left her shoes behind her.
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Oh returned the other. She would not stay for her
shoes. Richard Rooker deposed that he
lived in the prisoner's house about 3 months, which was long
since the child had been missing.
He observed the children were very ill used and had very
little food. When they had any, they were not
allowed more than 5 minutes to eat it.
The old woman's disposition was so violent that she was obliged
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to remove, and out of compassionto the daughter, who was
repeatedly beaten by her, he took her into his service.
The mother, however, would not suffer her to remain in peace.
She came almost every day insulting the witness and the
daughter. On one occasion he heard a cry
of murder, and going to a littleroom he found the girl in agony,
struggling with the old woman. She had driven her up into a
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corner and had got a sharp, pointed knife in her hand with
which she was attempting to stabher.
During the altercation he heard the daughter say to the mother,
Mother, mother, remember the gully hole?
Sometime after he questioned thegirl as to the meaning of those
words, and when, with great reluctance, she told him that
the child and her sister had both been starved to death.
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That a few days after Anne Naylor's death, the body was
carried up into a Garret and locked up into a box, where it
was kept upwards of two months until it became putrefied and
maggots came from her. The mother then took it out of
this box, cut it in pieces, cut off the arms and legs, and burnt
one of the hands in the fire, cursing her that her bones were
so long consuming, saying the fire told no tales.
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Then she tied the body and head in a brown cloth, and the other
parts in another. Being part of the bed furniture.
She carried them to the Chick Lane Gully hole, and threw them
in. Her mother told her as she was
coming back, she saw one Mr. Inch, who kept a public house
near Temple Bar, who cried out what a stink there is, to which
she replied that he had it all to himself, for she smelt none.
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She called for some Brandy, and went away.
In consequence of this confession, Rooker wrote a
letter to the officers of the parish where he dwelt,
acquainting them with the particulars.
Thomas Lovegrove, overseer of Saint Andrews, deposed that on
the 12th of December, at near 12at night, the constable came to
him with two Watchmen, and told him there were parts of a human
body lying at the gully hole in Chick Lane.
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He went with them to the spot, and the smell of the body was so
offensive that the Watchmen wereunwilling to remove it.
It was at length taken to the workhouse, The parts were washed
and laid upon a board. A coroner's inquest set upon it
and returned a verdict of willful murder.
In the meantime, in consequence of Rooker's letter, the mother
and daughter were apprehended. Some other witnesses were
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examined, who corroborated the essential parts of the above
evidence. The mother, when asked for her
defense, told a lame story of the girls running away, and
called one or two witnesses to prove that she used her
apprentice as well, and gave them sufficient food, but in
this they failed. One of them said she had never
been in her house at mealtimes, and never saw the children have
any. He described the place in which
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they worked to be a little slip room, 2 yards wide at the widest
part, and tapering at the end. The daughter denied all
participation in the murder, accepting the concealment, and
threw all the odium on her mother.
When the girl was dead, she saidI desired my mother to apply to
the parish to have her buried. She said I was a fool, for if
she did, everybody would see that the girl had been starved,
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and if the girls were asked theycould tell how long she went
without vittles. I then asked her to get the
other girls not to say how long they had been kept without food,
but this she replied would be useless, as it would be
discovered on opening the body. She told me if I would stay with
her till she was out of danger Ishould go to service.
When I thought she was out of danger I begged to go to service
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as she proposed. She said no, I should not, I
should stay with her while she was in the house.
She said I might tell and be damned, for if I did she would
swear I killed her, and she secreted my crimes.
The body was never buried. She wanted me one night to help
her in dividing the body in pieces, and said I need not be
afraid of her now she was dead, for she would not bite me.
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This was two or three months after the girl died.
I told her indeed I could not. I was then with her up in the
room. I offered to go out, but she
told me I must help her. I got out of the room and she
caught hold of my clothes. I cried.
She said. What would the girls think
seeing me cry so? How could I be such a cruel
brute as to leave her? I told her she had brought it on
herself, and must get out of it how she could.
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After that she told me she had done the limbs up in one bundle,
and tied the body and head in another.
She tried to get the head off, but could not.
She brought them downstairs, andfirst took the limbs out and
carried them to the gully hole in Chick Lane.
She said she tried to fling themout over the wall, but could
not. Then she came and took the other
bundle, which she said she carried to the same place, and
found the other parts lying there.
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One night, after the children were gone to bed, she brought
down the hand which had a stump finger.
She said she would make a way within the fire, because the
fire concealed everything. Here the elder prisoner
interrupted her daughter by saying that it was all false,
and that if she had burnt any part she might as easily have
burnt all, to which the other replied, she said she would
destroy it all in the fire, but that would make a smell and
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alarm the neighbors. The daughter called a few
witnesses to character, but boththe prisoners were found guilty.
Death. The interval between their
condemnation and execution, was spent in mutual recrimination
when they were visited in their cell.
No pen can describe the anguish of soul and horror visible in
both their countenances. Both equally persisted in
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denying the guilt of the murder.But the daughter, in the vigor
of youth, was most averse to die, to avoid which she had
pleaded most pathetically for a little respite, and after this
illegal plea of pregnancy had been set aside by a jury of
matrons the whole night previousto their execution, the mother
had continued in a fit, speechless, without any motion,
except strong convulsions, whichwere ascribed to her long and
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obstinate fasting, with a view to destroy herself before the
execution. Being put into the cart, the
mother was laid along at the bottom in a state of
insensibility, and when they arrived at Tyburn she continued
in a fit, scarcely seeming to breathe or move, except now and
then with a convulsive twitch, her breast appearing greatly
swelled and heaving, she was obliged to be supported till she
(14:56):
was turned off. The daughter still persisted in
her innocence of all but the concealment, and added that she
died a martyr to her innocence. Well, that was a regular ray of
sunshine, wasn't it? A quick note by way of an
update. Both Sarah and Sally Met Yard
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were handed over to the Medical College to be dissected after
their execution. And there is a legend that the
ghost of Anne Naylor still haunts Farringdon Station which
was built on the site of the gully hole into which the poor
things body was dumped. Both the Naylor girls were
parish girls. Charity cases raised by a local
church. Oliver Twist in Dickens novel
(15:37):
was a parish boy. Before we move on, let's talk a
little bit more about this one. Significantly, the child this
woman murdered was an apprenticelike Ellen, The Apprentice that
Dick Turpin rescued in chapter 8of Black Bass who I mentioned
earlier. The events that this story
chronicles happened in 1762 and it was very much in circulation
when Edward Coats started writing his Dick Turpin story
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and it happened during the quotegood old times when highway
robbers like Dick Turpin were still a thing.
Sarah met Yard was a mitten knitter.
So these apprentices were all supposedly learning how to make
mittens. If you'll recall from the story
of Mrs. Brattle, the wicked old woman cap maker who's a young
apprentice Dick Turpin rescued from her debauchery.
(16:19):
There are some parallels, and I think it's pretty likely that
Edward Coats was thinking about Sarah Met Yard when he wrote
that chapter. In any case, this case sure
brought the subject of apprentice abuse to the public
consciousness. So if there's a silver lining to
this very dark cloud of a story,it's that for our next segment,
we'll be dipping into the trove of broadsheet ballads that's
(16:42):
available at the National Library of Scotland.
This particular one also is pretty grim.
An introduction to the story appears at the top of the
ballad. The ballad supposedly was
written by the murderer himself,although I am very skeptical of
that. I cannot imagine an actual
murderer wanting to sing a song about his crime and guilt, still
less picking a popular heir to which folks could hum it.
(17:04):
But you shall judge for yourself.
The Hartlepool Tragedy, A broadsheet ballad sold on the
street in printed form. Printed by BT Ord of High Street
London. Data unknown, but probably very
early in the 1800s, Mary Farding, a stranger in the town
(17:29):
of Hartlepool, was thrown over the Cliff into the sea, near
unto a place known by the name of the Maiden's Bower, on the
4th day of June, in the year 1727.
The small rock detached from theMoor a few yards to the north of
what is called the Battery, and near to which the new lighthouse
is erected, cannot fail from itssingular situation to attract
(17:52):
the notice of strangers. The space which separates this
rock from the mainland is known by the name of the Maiden's
Bower. The principal evidence against
Stevenson, a native of Northallerton in Yorkshire, was
an aged female, whose window looked in the direction of the
town Moor. While sitting at her spinning
wheel she observed these two people walking together, and
(18:14):
having for a moment withdrawn her attention, she saw the man
alone. Whether this information is in
accordance with truth, or it is only a fragment of the
traditional account, is now perhaps of little consequence.
Extract from the Hartlepool Church register book.
Mary Farting, a stranger who by the coroner's inquest was found
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to be murdered by William Stevenson, merchant in
Northallerton, to whom she was pregnant.
Buried 7 June 1727. July 1727.
William Stevenson was executed in the city of Durham in a copy
of this old lamentable ditty, printed by White of Newcastle.
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It is said to have been written by the murderer himself while in
prison, and to have been given by him to a friend just previous
to his execution. Tune since Celia, my foe, Oh
Lord, I'm undone. Thy face I must shun.
I've angered my God and displeased his son.
I dare not come nigh, thy dread majesty.
(19:18):
Oh, where shall I hide my poor soul when I die?
Thy vengeance I dread on my guilty head.
My actions all over are wicked indeed.
No devil inhale that from glory fell can now with my blood
guilty soul parallel her affections I drew, How could I
embrew my hand in her blood? Oh my God, I must rue the cursed
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hellish deed I made her to bleed.
That never did wrong me in thought or in deed.
I used my whole art till I stoleher heart and swore to befriend
her and still take her part. Then being beguiled, she soon
proved with child, which made her weep sorely.
But I only smiled with sighs, and with groans, and with tears
(20:00):
and with moans. She uttered such plaints as
would soft and Flint stones. Oh, where shall I hide the shame
of she cried? Dear Sir, take some pity, and
for me provide. I feared she'd breed strife
twixt me and my wife, and that all my friends would lead me a
sad life. Then Satan likewise did join and
(20:21):
surmise, and made me a hellish contrivance devise.
I promised her fair that I wouldtake care of her and her infant,
and all things prepare at Hartlepool Town, where she
should lie down. Poor soul, she believed me as
always she'd down thus wickedly bent with her.
I then went so little, expectingmy bloody intent.
(20:42):
We then drank some ale, and I did prevail to take a walk out,
which we did without fail. We then took our way to the
brink of the sea, and there in afury I to her did say, You
impertinent whore that covets mystore, I'm fully resolved you
shall plague me no more. She, dreading her fate, alas,
when too late did call out for mercy, while I did her beat with
(21:05):
the whip in my hand. Being unable to stand, she ran
backward and fell from the rock to the strand.
At this dreadful fall in her blood she did sprawl, yet had
not the power on heaven to call to blacken my crime the babes
that were mine. I could perceive them stirring
within her some time in hopes that the sea would wash her
away. I hastened homeward without more
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delay, but was taken soon to receive my sad doom, and must
suffer shamefully just in my bloom, which makes my heart ache
and ready to break. I pray my dear Savior some pity
to take on a Sinner the worst, lewd and bloody and cursed to
owes his damnation both righteous and just.
But Oh my God, why should my Savior die if not to save
(21:49):
sinners as heinous as I? Then come cart and rope both
strangle and choke. For in my Redeemer I still trust
and hope that all men beware when married.
They are lewd. Women are surely a dangerous
snare. Then love your own wives, for
them only thrives who always live pious and chaste in their
lives. And now, before we mizzle off
(22:15):
into the sunset, let's try and lighten the mood a little bit
with a few dorky jokes courtesy of Joe Miller's Jests or the
Wits Vade Meekum, pragmatic young fellow sitting at table
over against the learned John Scott, asked him what difference
was there between Scott and Sot.Just the breadth of this table,
(22:37):
answered the other. Another poet asked Nat Lee if it
was easy to write like a madman as he did.
No, answered Nat, but it is easyto write like a fool as you do,
Molly, who, notwithstanding his odes, has now and then said a
good thing, being told one nightby the late Duke of Wharton,
that he expected to see him hanged or beggared very soon.
(23:00):
If I add your graces, politics and morals, said the Laureate,
you might expect both. Sir Thomas Moore, when Lord
Chancellor being pressed by counsel of the party for a
longer day to perform a decree meaning to stay late, said take
St. Barnaby's day, the longest in
the year. It happens to be next week.
(23:23):
This famous Chancellor, Sir Thomas Moore, who preserved his
humor and wit to the last momentwhen he came to be executed on
Tower Hill. The headsman demanded his upper
garment as his fee. Oh, friend, said he taking off
his cap. That, I think, is my upper
garments. When Rabelais, the greatest
droll in France, lay upon his deathbed, he could not help
(23:46):
jesting at the very last moment for having received the extreme
unction. A friend, coming to see him,
said that he hoped he was prepared for the next World.
Yes, yes, replied Rabelais. I am ready for my journey now.
They have just released my boots.
Henry the 4th of France reading an ostentatious inscription on
(24:08):
the monument of a Spanish officer.
Here dies the body of Don, et cetera, et cetera, who never
knew what fear was then, said the king.
He never snuffed a candle with his fingers.
A certain member of the French Academy, who was no great friend
to the Abbot, Furtier one day took the seat that was commonly
(24:29):
used by the Abbot, and soon after having occasion to speak,
and Furtier being by that time Come in.
Here is a place, said he, gentlemen, from whence I am
likely to utter 1000 impertinences.
Go on, answered Furtier. There's one already.
When Sir Richard Steele was fitting up his great room in
(24:51):
York buildings for public orations, he happened at one
time to be pretty much behind hand with his workmen, and
coming one day among them to seehow they went forward, ordered
one of them to get into the rostrum and make a speech, that
he might observe how it could beheard.
The fellow mounting and scratching his Pate, told him he
knew not what to say, for in truth he was no orator.
Oh, said the knight, no matter for that speak anything that
(25:13):
comes uppermost war here, Sir Richard, We have been working
for UV six weeks and cannot get 1 penny of money.
Pray, Sir, when do you design topay us?
Very well, Very well, said Sir Richard.
Pray come down. I've heard quite enough.
I cannot but own you speak very distinctly, though I don't
admire your subject. Well, that's it.
(25:38):
A short life and a dreary one, as it were.
This concludes the hapony, horrible Hers day episode of
Penny Dreadful Variety Hour. I hope you will join me again 3
days from now. Same spring healed time, same
spring healed channel for our next Penny Dreadful story, our
main show, in which we've got Chapter 5 of Rose Mortimer or
(25:58):
the ballet Girl's Revenge, written by an anonymous author
in 1865, and Chapter 5 of The Mysteries of London by George W
and Reynolds in 1844. In Rose Mortimer, we're going to
see Rose as a rising star in theballet.
Her great triumph is as Goddess of mourning in a Christmas show,
after which Count Lerno approaches her, telling her he
(26:21):
has a message from her father and offering to take her to him.
She hesitates, distrusting him. Then Jack Halliday comes into
view. So the Count seizes her, bundles
her into the carriage, and gallops away with her into the
night. Is he really taking her to her
father, or has he something moresinister in mind?
Well, it's Count Lerno, so of course he has something more
sinister in mind. What will happen to her?
(26:43):
Will she escape the fate worse than death at the hands of this
cruel villain? We shall soon hear in the
mysteries of London. Richard Markham's father has
died of a broken heart, leaving him the estate at the tender age
of 19. We follow him to London where in
Hyde Park he meets a wealthy, well dressed man about town.
Or is he perhaps a man upon town?
(27:06):
We have our suspicions anyway. He introduces himself as Arthur
Chichester, Richard's new friendinvites him to dine with a
friend that night. But is Arthur Chichester all he
appears? He's a little too brassy, almost
as if playing a role, and he sure can hold a lot of liquor.
How much trouble is our naive young friend in?
Well, we'll find out. And all that, plus some more
(27:29):
flash. Can't.
Words are coming your way this Sunday night all at Dick
Turpin's Scragging Hour 537, AKA1737 Military Time this Sunday
eve. Our theme music is a version of
Golden Slippers, A minstrel showsong written by James A Bland in
1879. This version is by Seattle old
(27:51):
Time band $4.00 Shoe. For more of their music, just
Google $4.00 Shoe. It'll pop right up.
No matter how you spell it, the Penny Dreadful Variety Hour is a
creation of Pulp Lit Productions.
For more details, see pulp-lit.com.
To get in touch with me, hit me up at finn@pulp-lit.com.
Thanks again for joining me Manabs.
It is time now for us to Pike off like we just spotted a red
(28:14):
West. Get down the lane for the Penny
Dreadful variety hour. I'm Finn, JD, John signing off
and now fair forth and fill up the rest of the week with all
that is Rumty Tum with the chilloff Bye now.
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