(This story is worked up from an anecdote told to us in the 1980s by Jack Noble of Cottonstones. It features in The Bad Old Days section of Hippy Valley.)
Now after t’ War, some Posh Folks in our Nation,/ Started to install refrigeration/Freezers came into fashion,/While most folks had to ration/Thus saving upper classes from starvation!
Here’s a bawdy tale entitled Fiery Jack/ An efficacious treatment for pains in joints an’ back./ But, as every careful customer understands/After each application,/Be sure to WASH YOUR HANDS!!!
A kitchen maid with an infatuation,/Decided to take charge o t’ situation/That kitchen had some gin in,/To fortify her sinning,/A set of keys and jars of embrocation.
At dead of night, she stole into a room,/Hoping to seduce the handsome groom/But drinkers now will pardon her/That room belonged to t’ gardener,/An ancient flower of England, past full bloom!
His big white eyes stared out at her from t’ black,/ She said, ‘I’ve done a damage to my back!’/And he wor right impressed, when she lifted up her vest,/ And said, ‘It needs a rub with Fiery Jack!’
From t’ windows pale moonlight, with spinning head/ She stumbled cross his floor to his dark bed./T’ old gardener took her tub,/ An’ he give her back a rub,/But then she whispered,/ ‘Now do t’ front instead!’
Then Walter up an’ bolted out o’ t’ door,/ But not much later, he came back for more./But t’ consequence wor boring,/T’ kitchen maid wor snoring,/An’ poor old Walter cursed himself an’ swore!
Then snuggled in his bed, he held her tight,/ Waiting for next morning’s breaking light,/When round her front he reached/But she leapt up an’ screeched,/An’ poor old Walter cowered back wi’ fright!/
He said, ‘Hush thissen, or else we’ll both get t’ sack!’/She said, ‘Your hands are flaming covered wi’ Fiery JACK!’/When she saw she’d slept with Walter,/Her fury didn’t falter, she pummelled him about both head an’ back!/
Now this commotion had woken Jack, her groom,/Who padded cross to t’ door of his own room./ Where he saw a sight, bewitching,/ As Mabel ran to t’ kitchen/ Wailing like a Banshee facing doom!/
So he follows her to t’ kitchen,/Then he sees her:/Standing, almost naked, next to t’ freezer,/Showing sheer delight she’d got em,/ Frozen peas clutched to Front Bottom,/He felt a surge of passion then to seize her!/
First he’d heard her shout his name,/But here in t’ larder,/She wor using frozen peas, to cool her ardour!/ Oh, how blind he’d been!/ Such love he’d never seen!/ how much his cold indifference must have scarred her!
Jack moved towards her,/But Mabel froze!/ She said, ‘Jack, I’m temporarily, indisposed!/ Jack didn’t mean to be alarming,/ And like a right Prince Charming,/ He fell down on one knee,/ And he proposed!