The 'real' story of Little Jack Horner. Number 15.
Little Jack Horner.
It wasn’t Jack Horner
Who sat in the corner,
It was his brother Mick
It wasn’t because he was naughty or bad,
And it wasn’t because he was thick.
He chose such a place to hide his face,
Because he was agoraphobic.
Mick rarely went out,
Nor went without,
Jack had seen to it all;
The Horners were wealthy since Jack had been stealthy
And stolen the deeds to the Hall.
He saw off the bishop to be hung, drawn and quartered,
Then nailed his flag to the wall.
He’d stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum,
And pretty plum had he remained;
For the plumb was the lead that he mined instead
Of the sucker from whom he had gained.
It all goes to show that it’s best not to go
With your property all in a pie,
Especially if you entrust the lot
To a man with a penchant to lie.
(What a good boy am I?)
But over the years the tale was diluted
And nobody knows now what’s true.
That the Hall was looted is widely disputed,
And now there is somebody new.
The Horners remained there for four hundred years,
By right or by wrong who can say?
While Mick just stayed in the corner
Afraid of the light of the day.
© Stephen Saunders
Fat lot of good it did him.
There might be some more verses to this, but I can't find them at the moment. They must be floating around in the ether, where all the words I use are to be found. But space is big, and my reach is small, so I shall have to wait and see if they appear.
However the story is so odd it might even be true. Such is history.
To book Steph'nonsense for a rhyming evening:
bowleyfarm@gmail.com or 01428 741212
Agent / publisher wanted.
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