Taffy Was a Welshman
One of my favorite nursery rhymes, except for the anti-Welsh part.
Taffy was a Welshman,
Taffy was a thief;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a piece of beef.
I went to Taffy’s house,
Taffy was not home;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a marrow bone.
I went to Taffy’s house,
Taffy was not in;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a silver pin.
I went to Taffy’s house,
Taffy was in bed;
I took up a poker
And flung it at his head
There are many versions of the rhyme, including one that begins, “Taffy was my neighbor,” I assume to leave out the Welsh-bashing. There was little difference between the two in my mind when I was a child. It never occurred to me that the mention that Taffy was a Welshman was meant to reflect poorly on all the Welsh. Maybe because I grew up in the U.S., where there are no stereotypes whatsoever associated with the Welsh that I know of.
“Welshman” meant nothing to me, either. I probably assumed it was a job title.
One of my favourite nursery rhymes was a political satire, the meaning of which eluded me back then:
Hark! Hark! The dogs do bark!
The beggars are coming to town:
Some in rags, and some in tags,
And some in velvet gowns.
I remember this rhyme from my father’s family who were from Tennessee. I don’t remember ever hearing the entire rhyme and this site seems to have it extant.
Thanx
jim belchere