Blubberhouses

Nine miles from Harrogate you may see
As pretty a village as may be,
But 'pon my word I can't agree
With the name that village bears.
You never would guess its curious name,
To christen it so was an awful shame,
I've often enquired who was to blame,
But no one knows or cares.

"Blubberhouses," there's a name,
Fancy – Blubberhouses;
When I think of that lovely spot
My temper it arouses
No wonder all newcomers laugh,
No wonder the traveller grouses,
If I found the man who christened it,
I'd shake him up till he had a fit,
Then I'd take him by his 'trowsis'
And pitch him into the deepest pond
I could find in Blubberhouses.