Its the Same The Whole World Over

It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor wot gets the blame,
It's the rich wot gets the pleasure,
Ain't it all a bloomin' shame?

Its strange how one thing leads to another. Discussing economic growth on one site, I was suddenly taken with the urge to start singing the above refrain, which of course comes from the old music hall song, aka She Was Poor But She Was Honest . A monologue version performed in the 1930s by Billy Bennett is shown below

[BTW the sound of my singing is not good, especially as my voice has disappeared thanks to a the gift of a sore throat from Other Half]

The economic report which sparked my awful singing was a report on the BBC news online yesterday with the title UK manufacturing output shrinks as export demand falls. To quote from the article:

The Markit/Cips manufacturing purchasing managers' index (PMI) fell to 49 last month - a 26-month low. Any level below 50 implies contraction.

So why the singing? Well, looking at the chart supplied by the BBC, the slowdown is global with the only two countries above that worrying '50' level being Germany and Japan. Unsurprising, Japan has fallen since July considering all their ongoing economic problems due to the earthquake and tsunami, but still have only fallen by 0.2 points. China is the only country to have increased but by a meagre 0.6 points and is still just below 50, at 49.9

Whilst the global economy is in such a parlous state thus showing there is a world wide problem, our present government constantly blaming the previous government here and employing swingeing cuts to those who can least afford it does not actually help. It seems as if the coalition government takes the same sort of attitude to its electorate as the character in the monologue below and:

[Goes] riding in a carriage
Past the gutter where [the poor] stands.

Perhaps it is time to show we really are all in this together, not a time for our leaders to be standing on the bridge ignoring the rest of the country floundering in the water below.

Oh, and whilst I am having a rant I would remind the Government that it is also not a time to be spending lot of money on weapons etc and I will be marching to affirm that on October 8th.

Billy Bennet monologue
She was poor but she was honest,
Though she came from 'umble stock,
And her honest heart was beating
Underneath her tattered frock.

But the rich man saw her beauty,
She knew not his base design,
And he took her to a hotel
And bought her a small port wine.

It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

In the rich man's arms she fluttered
Like a bird with a broken wing,
But he loved her and he left her,
Now she hasn't got no ring.

Time has flown - outcast and homeless
In the street she stands and says,
While the snowflakes fall around her,
'Won't you buy my bootlaces.'

It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

Standing on the bridge at midnight
She says, 'Farewell, blighted love!'
There's a scream, a splash, good 'eavens!
What is she a doing of?

Soon they dragged her from the river,
Water from her clothes they wrang.
They all thought that she was drownded,
But the corpse got up and sang:

"It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?"

She was poor but she was honest,
Victim of a rich man's game.
First he loved her, then he left her,
And she lost her maiden name.

Then she ran away to London
For to hide her grief and shame.
There she met an Army captain,
And she lost her name again.

"It's the same the whole world over.
It's the poor that gets the blame.
It's the rich that gets the pleasure.
Ain't it all a bleeding shame?"

See him riding in a carriage
Past the gutter where she stands.
He has made a stylish marriage,
While she wrings her ringless hands.

See him there at the theatre,
In the front row with the best,
While the girl that he has ruined
Entertains a sordid guest.

"It's the same the whole world over.
It's the poor that gets the blame.
It's the rich that gets the pleasure.
Ain't it all a bleeding shame?"

See her on the bridge at midnight,
Crying "Farewell, blighted love".
Then a scream, a splash, and . . Goodness!
What is she a-doing of?

When they dragged her from the river
Water from her clothes they wrung.
Though they thought that she was drownded,
Still her corpse got up and sung:

"It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?"

NB There are several versions of this monologue/song. Some more respectable than others. I have heard/read most of them during my research for my dissertation Victorian Literature and the Fallen Woman. So I will not be including any others, but there is a lovely, clean version here: http://poemsandprose.blog.co.uk/2006/01/04/it_s_the_same_the_whole_world_over~439049/

The picture is of one of my favourite 'Fallen Women' paintings, 'Found' by D.G.Rossetti, 1853.