^ — - Book F£5" rv s\ ( FAIRBURN'S It Wonderful Songster, For 1829. -I&£ BEING AN EXTENSIVE COLLECTION OF ABOUT Four Hundred Songs, CONTAINING ALL THE POPULAR, HUMOROUS, WITTY, ECCENTRIC, COMIC SONGS OF THE PRESENT DAY : Calculated to afford Wit, Fun, Mirth, and Entertainment for ever and a day. WITH A PRIME COLLECTION OF TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. Embellished with a Whimsical Frontispiece. LONDON: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. FAIRBURN 110, MINORIES. Price Tn'G Shillings in Boards, -. wjiasyssr mmMOTHj®^ The wretch /tad- approach 'd me. — itreeMy was shocking— In black lights that ended in white cotton, slacking,- My heart was too hurt t» i reprove MTJfieholaie, Though his conduct.youll own, was most 7>u\?nsl?vu.t ridiculous! FAIRBURN'S l| Wonderful Songster, For 1829. -12*^ BEING AN EXTENSIVE COLLECTION OF ABOUT Four Hundred Songs, CONTAINING ALL THE POPULAR, HUMOROUS, WITTY, ECCENTRIC, COMIC SONGS OF THE PRESENT DAY : Calculated to afford Wit, Fun, Mirth, and Entertainment for ever and a day. WITH A PRIME COLLECTION OF TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. Embellished with a Whimsical Frontispiece. LONDON : PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. FAIRBURN 110, MINORIES. Price Tn'o Shillings in Boards* -. * If XI r Wf^ f v ■lO > TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. A cobweb pair of breeches, a porcu- Eine saddle, a hard trotting orse, and a long journey, to the enemies of Britain. A speedy export to all the enemies of Britain, without a drawback. Annihilation to the trade of corrup- tion. , , . ,. Addition to our trade, multiplica- tion to our manufactories, sub- straction to taxes, and reduc- tion to places and pensions. A Venus born from Ocean's bed- Britannia. May British virtue shine when every other light is out. May the freedom of election be pre- served, the trial by jury main- tained, and the liberty of the press be secured to the latest posterity. May the tree of liberty flourish round the globe, and every hu- man being partake of its fruits. A broadside of comfort to every distressed Seaman. Britain's pride and the world's won- der—The Navy. Drape-shot to our friends, and Chain- shot to our enemies. Success to the fair for manning the Navy. The unconquered Navy of Great Eritain, and success to its cham- pions. A speedy union to every lad and lass. Days of ease and nights of plea- sure. May the villain who robs my daugh- ter of her virtue outlive every friend. May the wings of Love never lose a feather. May the streams of rapture meet each other, and seize life in the middle current. The love of liberty, and the liberty of love. A friend and a bottle to give him. Old wine and young women. "When wine enlivens the heart, may friendship surround the table. Friendship in marble, animosity in dust. May the blossoms of friendship never be nipt by the frost of disappointment. May the hinges of friendship never rust, May the bark of friendship nevei founder on the rock of deceit. May our friends always possess the three H's— Health, Honour, and Happiness. The heart that can feel for another. May the horns of a buck never dis- grace the sportsman's brow. May we always run the game breast high. The fox's brush over the thatched tavern. The jolly sportsman that enters the covert without being bit by the fox. The gallant huntsman, that plunges into the deep in pursuit of his game. AlLFortune's daughters except the eldest— Mis-fortune. Envy in an air-pump without a passage to breathe through. Good luck till we are tired of it. Here's to the mouth that can keep a secret. Harmony all over the world. May the girls that we love suck- seed in all their undertakings. May the wealth of rogues devolve on honest men. May our injuries be written in sand and our friendships in marble. May we never want a bait when we fish for content. May the rich be charitable, and the poor grateful. May we always be bomb-proof against villany; May we never be stranded at Cuck- old's Point. May we never want courage when put to the shift. May the journey through life be as sweet as it is short; May care be a stranger to every ho- nest heart. TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. — »0cfo, Health to the King, prosperity to the people, and may the ministry direct their endeavours to the public good The great Palladium of British liberty — The Press Everlasting life to the man who gave the death-blow to the slave-trade Addition to our trade, multiplication to our manufactures, subtraction to taxes and reduction to places and pensions Speedy restoration of the rights of the people to a fair and equal repre- sentation in Parliament Short shoes and long corns to the enemies of our country May the tree of liberty flourish round the globe, and every human be- ing partake of its fruit May the liberties of the people be immortal The industrious peasantry of Great Britain and Ireland The three greatest and best generals —General Peace General Plenty and General Satisfaction The British Navy — may it sail on a sea of glory, and, wafted by the gales of prosperity, always enter the port of victory The sea, and may it always bring a spring-tide of joy to Great Britain May the tar who loses a member in the defence of his country be re- membered by it May no son of the ocean be devoured by his mother May our admirals always act admi- rably The spring of love and the harvest of enjoyment The fountain of life and streams of enjoyment May the lovers of the fair sex never want means to support and de- fend them May the joys of the fair give pleasure to the heart May we always have a friend and a bottle to give him May our love of the glass never make us forget decency May we act with reason when the bottle circulates May we never want a friend to cheer us, and a bottle to cheer him Champaign to our real friends and real pain to our sham friends May our evening diversions bear our morning reflections May we never by overleaping the bounds of prudence, trespass up- on the bounty of friendship Home pleasant, and our friends at home May those who fall by misfortune be lifted up by the hand of friend- ship May friendship draw the cork and love the curtain The pheasant that raises her feathers when she receives the shot The staunch hound that never spends tongue but where be ought May every fox -hunter be well mounted May those who love the crack of the whip never want a brush to follow The jolly sportsman that never beats about the bush The brave sportsman that always erects his crest when he sees his game All that gives us pleasure As we travel through life may we live well on the road May every honest man turn out a rogue . May poverty always be a day s march behind us May we be happy, and our enemies know it May those we love be honest, and the land we live in free May honesty never be ashamed or an unfashionable garment May the wealth of rogues devolve on honest men _.._ A speedy calm to the storms ot liie Old wine and young women COMIC SONGS. 133 four on douyhey, and put it into the hands of this gentleman without a coat.' ' Who'll keep time?' ' I will — no 1 can't' ' What, don't your watch go? ' It's gone, sir.' ' You should always bring a stop-watch when you come to a fight.' ' Some person has deprived me of my East- Indian silk handkerchief.' ' What, have you lost your sneezur? I say, Bill, here's a poor creetur lost his Ban- danna wipe.'' ' Sarves him right ; I nivir brings none, whereby I nivir loses none.' * The baker thinks veil of himself.' ' Pretty stop that !'/ That's a sweet hit!' 'He's queered his optics — floored him right down upon his. crupper-bone — there's a tickler on the proboscis! — there's a wap on \\\$tater trap — he made his box o' dominos chatter." ' Baker shows first claret and a graper — he's taking measure of his eyes for a suit of mourning — there's another tvisit to the wiltuall- %ng office.' 'Bravo! doughey is sarv- ing him out till he's piping like a frog in convulsions.' ' Stop, my kiddy, not so fast — your master of the rolls has got his head into chancery.'' So Push along, dash along, &c. Milling is ending now — seconds are ^ lending now — Eagerly brandy their spirits to cheer — Finishing, punishing, makes the stake- money shine Sure it's astonishing some that are here — Turn about — early out — Pockets cleaned — fairly out — Flats turning sulky now, clean'd of their cash — Crowds now returning, half the fan- cy's in mourning — Haws are all learning now, news from the flash. Spoken.'] ' Well, how did you like it? pretty fight, warn't it? not much claret spilt — should liked to have seen a little more claret spilt.' ' Pretty well, I think, for moderate takers.' ' Ay, but the baker's a glutton you know.' ' Neat fibbing in the fourth round.' ' Yes ; 1 shouldn't iike such a uint to my bone-shop.' ' Black George, here's room on the shafts.' « Get down— han't eight enough for a pony.' ' Ah ! Pat, how are you V 1 How do, my honey V ' Did you win your blunt?' ' O you may say that.* ? Pretty blow of your countryman's in the third round !' ' Oh, it was an elegant fight, by my soul ! it was an illustrious fight — faith ! I thought he would have knocked doughey" s breath into the middle cf next week ; it was like a kick from a coach-horse.' ' Pray, sir, can you tell me which has won the victory ?' 'Why, sir, they was both so zvapped, I couldn't tell which had the wictory ; but I believe the dead man's beat.' ' What's one kill- ed?' ' No, sir, but that's always the way with haggraxoating Sam — the dead man means the baker, sir.' ' Well, Mr. Steady, how did you like it ? ' ' Why, sir, 1 can only say, thife is the first time 1 ever witnessed an assem- blage of this sort, and I will take care it shall be the last— I have been ex- ceedingly disappointed, not to say disgusted — my person has experien- ced extreme inconvenience from the weather, my stomach has been much deranged at the horrible exhibition, and I have been clandestinely depri- ved of my property by some adept at irregular appropriation.' ' I/d thank some gentleman to put that into English for me.' * Why, sir, the con- vey a?icers have been busy.' ' I'm as much in the dark now as ever.' 'Why then, sir, I'll explain it to you ; he means, there's been a rum squeedge at the spell, the conveyancers have been at work at the scratch, the prigs have been dipping their mauleys into that srcelVs gropus, nimmed his bird's- eye wipe, his gold ticker, three one- pound screens, two neds, and his read- er ; but the beaks have sent their traps after 'em, and if they're cotched, they'll show 'em the fall of the leaf at Tuck-up-Fair, or send 'em aboard the Floating Academy at Woolwich.' ' Well, by way of explanation, that certainly is the plainest thing 1 ever heard.' ' Well, I declare I never won't come no more ; 1 wouldn't tell my wife of it on no account ; its the most horridest — sanauinashionest — sight I ever setd-— I am told one gentleman swalh wed his teeth.' ' I can tell you woiser than that, sir! there was one gentleman had his eye N 134 COMIC SONGS. knocked into his ear; I saw it peeping out.' ' Well, Mr. Downright, what do you say to it V ' Why, sir, I think in some measure, to keep up the na- tional spirit in the lower orders of so- ciety it may be tolerated ) but when we see characters of the highest order, that might be better employed with their equals, hand in hand with the lowest of the low, and making friends of gamblers, ruffians, and black legs, I deplore that total want of feeling, and blush for the morals of the age we live in.' ' Indeed, why then Push along, dash along, &c. SEWING UP OF TIMOTHY STITCH'EM. At a village in Kent, as I have heard tell, Lived a tailor, called Timothy Stitch'em, Who could sigh and could groan, aye, and preach very well. So the neighbours all feared he'd bewitch 'em ; He would oftentimes tell them a com- ical tale About religion and cabbaging so neatly, When collected together, their minds to regale, He'd measure out a subject com- pletely. Spoken.] Now my friends I shall cut out my subject by a well-shaped pattern, which, no doubt, will fit you all as close as wax — there are many of you whose understandings are be- come threadbare, and if you are not turned from that coat of wickedness. Old Nick will cabbage you, to a dead certainty ; but I hope no one present will be such a goose as to get within the length of his sleeve-board, if you do, you will make a devil of a job of it, he will rub down your seams and work-up your button-holes, so that you will all be ready to Sigh away, die away, Moan away, groan away. What comforts must certainly reach 'em Such sighs and such cries. How they turned up their eyes At the sight of little Timothy Stitch- 'em. Now Stitch* em oft visited a farmer hard by, Who heeded but little his advice, But the wife on this doctrine would always rely, And believed he could mend her in a trice ; So Timothy, finding the farmer was deaf To all he might preach, sing, or pray, He would take care to visit his dear loving wife, And console her when he was away. Spoken.] Yes, Timothy always a- voided the presence of Farmer Fusty, in order to comfort the wife with his devout doctrine, and also to comfort himself with some good cordials which she could procure ; and, one evening, when the farmer was gone to market, they, not expecting him back very soon, took the opportunity of regaling themselves with cups of comfort, pray- ers, and what else I can't say, but this love-feast had such an effect on their spirits that they began to Sigh away, die away, Moan away, groan away, What comforts must certainly reach 'em; Such sighs and such cries, You'd have turned up your eyes Had you seen little Timothy Stitch- 'em. Now the fire being warm, and their spirits so cool, They both fell asleep very quick, When some knowing wag took a peep through the key-hole, And opening for mischief to seek ; Then, heating them snore, he stole a black cat, Then soon mounted to the chimney- top, To her tail tied straw, with an old dirty hat, And bundled her down neck and crop. Spoken.] Yes, pussy descended the chimney very quick, with her straw packed up behind her, as if she was set out on a long journey, but, unfor- tunately, her burden caught fire, so running to the pious couple for pro- tection, set their garments on fire, so there was a pretty blaze altogether, and their fright caused them to COMIC SONGS. 135 Sigh away, die away, Moan away, groan away, What confusion must certainly reach 'em, Such sighs, and such cries, You'd have turned up your eyes, Had you seen little Timothy Stitch- 'em. This woman, through fear, called for help so loud That the neighbours were struck with amaze, Who assembled so fast that a wonder- ful crowd Came to see Mr. Stitch' em in a blaze ; Now the farmer arrived in the midst of the clatter, And with wonder he began to stare, Soon the neighbours did explain the truth of this matter, When he raved like a man in des- pair. Spoken.'] Well, this is a pretty rig ! but, however, I'll soon cool their cou- rage and heat at the same time, by tying them together with a cart-rope, and sending them to hunt water-rats at tiie bottom of the horse pond : I think it is proper they should have a soaker after their scorcher, so I'll let them stick fast in the mud till they begin to Sigh away, die away, Moan away, groan away, What confusion must certainly reach 'em, Such sighs, and such cries, How they turned up their eyes, 'Twas the sewing up of Timothy Stitch'em. THE WANTON WIDOW; Air. — Miss Bailey. A WANTON widow, old and sour, Would fain be a Signora ; She practis'd all was in her pow'r To wear her weeds no more a : — But all she did, and all she strove, Could not entice her charmer ; So cold her heart, the flame of love Could never rightly warm her ! Oh ! Mistress Wiggins, Despairing Mistress Wiggins ! She took to drinking peppermint, And mourn'd her faithless lover. She sigh'd, she panted, rolled her eyes, And used these efforts often ; The youth but vie Wd her with surprise His heart could never soften. — At length, a brisk young- maid he view'd Handsome, tall, and clever ; "She lik'd him, though he came so rude, And vowed she'd love for ever. Oh ! Mistress Wiggins, &c. This damsel's name was Sally Prim, Her daddy was a brazier ■ The youth was nick-nam'd Billy Slim, And was by trade a glazier ; Their hands they joined in wedlock '3 tie, And told their joy in kisses. — Let this a warning word imply, To widows and old misses! Oh ! Mistress Wiggins, Distracted Mistress Wiggins ! She kill'd herself with peppermint. And left her faithless lover. A MASTER, I HAVE, AND I AM HIS MAN. A MASTER I have, and I am his man Galloping dreary dun, And he'll get a wife as fast as he can, With a haily, gaily, Gambo raily, Giggling, Niggling, Galloping galloway, draggle-tail dreary dun. I saddled his steed so fine and so gay, Galloping dreary dun ; I mounted my mule, and we rode away, With our haily, &c. We canter'd along until it grew dark, Galloping dreary dun ; The nightingale sung instead of the lark, With her haily, &c . We met with a friar, and ask'd him our way. Galloping dreary dun ; By the Lord, says the friar, you are both astray, With your haily, &c Our journey, I fear, will do us no good, Galloping dreary dun ; We wander alone, like babes in the wood, With our haily, &c. N2 136 CuiUAV, OUlSLrS. My master's a fighting, and I'll take a peep, Galloping dreary dun ; But now I think on it — I'd better go sleep, With my haily, &c. THE ODD FELLOWS' MODEL. Air.— The Model.— A PARODY. AN Odd Fellow's a fellow of whim and of sport, Though his heart to humanity oft pays its court ; Expanded his mind, he feels as a man, Relief to the widow and orphan his plan ! "Where'er Fortune has placed him, N o murmurs escape him ; Contentment his lot, E'en his foe is forgot, — Such joy does the Odd Fellow know, Who, daily toiling wearily, At night, singing cheerily, Every blessing enjoys which Con- tent can bestow. He never repines at the wealth of his neighbour, Just enough to suffice, the sweet fruit of his labour ; With the girl of his heart blest, his bottle, and friend, While health and good-humour his hours attend. To his Lodge with glee repairing, No cares his soul ensnaring ; But harmony presiding, The hour cheerful gliding, With friendship's sweet solace and mirth, Around him bliss bestowing, His cup of joy o'erflowing, He envies no lord or king on the earth. Come, brothers, then join in the wish of my heart, United and firm let us keep,— nor im- part The secret to none but the worthy and wise, . Who deserve on their honour, and highly it prize. May our bodges all flourish, Nor discord e er nourish ; But, united and firm, Let the detractor learn That Odd Fellows by Virtue are moved ; To our country ever steadily, Her tights maintain we readily, And show that by Faction, we will ne'er be subdued ! JUST SO. Air. — Derry Down. MR. DIP, tallow-chandler and deal- er in fat, By love was reduced till as thin as a rat; And the maiden he loved was as pure as the snow, And many a sigh did he give her — just so. One night when his unlucky stars did prevail jdr; " He drank with a friend about nine pints of ale; It got in his head — put him quite ia a glow, And made his eyes roll all about him — just so. He then went a courting, though not very fit, And not able to stand, why he was forced to sit ; Says he, " Oh, ray love, you'll excuse me I know , Says she, " Mr. Dip, you've been drinking" — just so. Says he, " Oh ! my angel, pray doubt not my love, For you know I'm as faithful and true as a dove ; Only feel how my heart pit-a-pats to and fro;" Says she, " Mr. Dip, you're a brute beast" — just so. " My darling" says he, " only let me explain, And I promise I never will do it again • Come, let us be friends, kiss before 1 do go :" Says she, then, to him, " kiss the devil" — just so. " Oh ! oh ! then," says he, ** if you're positive still, And determined to show me 3 T ou'H have your own will, COMIC SONGS. 141 THE POST OFFICE. IN a post-office bred, what a life sure As I handled the thoughts of my betters ; Oh ! it is such a scene, that our great public inn Might be called a republic of letter : To Northumberland and Cum- berland, And Westmoreland and Sunder- land, To Hertford, and Dartford, And Deptford and Bedford, Isorth, east, south, and west, To all corners addressed, Such a wonderful, concentration, 1 might say, without brag. I could shake in a bag Half the wisdom and wit of the na- tion. Spoken. ] Now, my good folks, keep away from the window, or it will be impossible to deliver the let- ters. Come, who's first? Pray, sir. have vou got ever a letter for me Who the devil are you 1 1'm Mr. Tiffi- my Twist, the tailor. I don't know ; if vou wait a bit I'll see. Now, my dear Timothy, you know my natu- rally-delicate nerves cannot stand this. Well, my lamb, I told you how it would be, you should not have come. Oh, oh. I shall faint ! I'm all over of a fiurrijication [faints]. Come, I say, Mr. Tim, don't be after tickling the lady there, up in the cor- ner. Oh, sir, it's my mamma. Oh ! she's got such a dreadful pain in her head. Och ! by the powers of Moll Kelly, I wish she had & pane in her back", then there'd be a job for the gla- ziers, and I might get a little day- light, for I'm almost stifled. Oh, 3'ou brute ! Here, here, here, Mr. Snip, here'z your letter, all over wax, and sealed with a thimble. Here, John, here's your master's letter. How much be I to pay, sur ? ^Nothing, you block- head! don't yon see it's franked? frank! my neame beant Frank, sur, my neame's Jerry. Oh, right, right, dang it 1 1 zee there's M.P. I suppose that meaus mustn't pay. Now my good woman, what's for you ? Oh, if you please, sir, have you got a letter for me, my name's Kitty Simmerfat ; I keep the two-pair back garret, at the Uncorked Bottle, Liquorpond-street, Gray's Inn Lane. Js o, I have none of that name to day. JLo you think as how there'll be any to morrow? Why, that 1 can't positively say, for you see, every minute, they are — Pouring in like hail, till they're off with the mail, With a rattle on, dash, dash away ! Some folks write for fun, and some write to dun, Some blaming, and others com- mending ; Some letters are in love, and others to move Soft friends their odd cash to be lending. Relations dying, selling, buying, Loving, thriving, ships arriving, Courting, lighting, wronging, writing, Suits at law, cash to draw, Dull and gay, cross and kind, Such a medley you'll find, As each scrawl appears on inspec- tion, That, in writing a theme, Our office might seem Noah's ark, by its motley collection. Spoken.] Why, how the devil's this ? [ looking at a letter] To my Son inTown ! was there ever such a foolish direction 1 who's to find out this son in town, I wonder? Please sur, axen your pardon, bean't you gotten never a letter from my ould varthur out or the country ? Oh, you're the son in town, are you, my lad 1 ( and a devil- ish rum looking gill 3 T ou are, and make the best of you. ) Well, I've been in this situation man}- years, but I declare I never saw so many queer names before ! Here's Tailor Tit, Doc- tor Horsehoof, Mr. Partridge, Mr. Squabble-all, Mr. Shufflekick, Parson Paunch, and — here's a break-my-jaw word for a name ! Monsieur Grenioch- toper, and Abraham Solomons. Ah, dat ish for me myself, how mosh ? How much, sir 1 sixpence. Sixpence ! ah, dat is a great deal too mosh; as true as I'm one living Jew, I might travel from Long Acre to the Shitty, and I vould not get me one bargain that would fetch me so mosh ; I will 142 COMIC SONGS. give tree-pence. Come, come, give us none of your jaw, down with your blunt. O la, papa, I is so frighten- ed, What are you frightened at? — Oh, how it stares! Stares, what stares. Oh, what large eyes it's got. What the devil do you mean 1 ? Oh, that nasty looking man, with the great cod-fish, daddy ; oh, tell him to take it away, or I shall drop down as dead as a nit. Hold your tongue, do, you foolish child, it's dead ; it can't hurt you, my pretty duck. I say, I say, Mr. Teddy O'Kelly, your letter comes to nine-pence more. What's that for, you tief? Oh, it's a double letter. Don't be after bothering us now, is it a double letter you tell me now : faith, a double letter means two, ana what I have in my fist is but one. O, bodder to my uncle's big cat. I sup- pose you mane to say there s one in the belly of it. Why, what's this I see ; och, the devil go with me but it's the half of a bank note ; och, what a hap- py Paddy I am now ; och, but where 's the other half ! By the powers, I'll have your post-office taken up for stealing it. Well, well, sir, I can't stand prating with you all day, for, every moment, you see they're — Pouring in like hail, &c. FEMALE NOVEL READERS. Air. — Put it down to the Bill. MANY ladies, they say, Read novels ail day, Yet I mean not the sex to asperse, For if not at that Why in sland'rous chat, They might idle their time away worse. Spoken. ] Oh dear yes, most of our young ladies love to enter into the secrets of Tom Jones or a Fashionable Lover, and many a mamma has had the mortification to find one of these favourites lying under Miss's pillow in the morning. As to some of our old maiden ladies, poor souls, they think of nothing but Arcadian bowers, pur- ling rills, mid meandering streams ; ana they'll often sit up half the night nodding over some rigmarole story, till at last they set their old wigs on fire. And even the very servants are infected ; Sally, the fat cook, will stand roasting by the kitchen fire read- ing an Essay on Female Delicacy, and very often before she comes to the F-I-N-I-S, the meat is burning, and the fat is in the fire. Our fair sex in novels they take such delight. Their heads are bewildered from morning till night. Then to libraries they go, For choice stories of woe, Or a sweet pretty tale of a ghost; Of seductional sorrows And caverns of horrors, At length they're e'en scared at a post. Spoken.'] How do you do this morn- ing, Miss Pathetic 1 — Vy, very poor- ly, I assure you ; I feel a sympathe- ticness at my stomach, and therefore may have something with spirits in it. — ; What say you to a little brandy and water 1 — Bless you, I don't want spirits of that sort, I want something with ghosts in it. — What did you read last, Miss 1 — Rug-in-tan-o, or the Dog ofWenus. — Oh, I understand? Ru- gantino, or the Doge of Venice. — I elieve it was ; but what can you re- commend ? — Why, as you are partial to spirits you had better take the Lake of Geneva. — f Old woman. ) Mr. Li brary-man, I've brought you home the Convent Spectre, and now let me have the Hour of Death. — I'm sur prised, ma'am, that you didn't think of that before ; allow me to recom- mend it to your attention. — Pray, sir, have you got Walkwer's Astwonomy, with a descwi prion of the Owwewy, in your libwawy. — No, sir, but I've fot a pronouncing Dictionary. — Sir! don't want a p wo per pwonouncing dictionawy, neither. — Pray, Mr. Bookman, have you any thing uncom- mon 1 — Yes, my lady, here's Disin- terested Love, or Marriage without Repentance. — But what's the most fashionable 1 — Crim. Con. my lady. — Then let me have Crim. Con. im- mediately. — Pray, sir, have you got the Miseries of Human Life ? — No, sir, haven't had them since my wife died. — Here Tom, take Travels in Greece to the tallow-chandler's, Kill- COMIC SONGS. 143 Kng no Murder to the butcher's, and Scenes in High Life to the spunging house ; and do you mind, bring the Honeymoon from that new-married couple ; take the Art of Spouting to the plumber's, and Childe Harold to the nursery. Thus With novels, &c. The wife, too, must go To the shop's overflow, While her husband, poor man, just come home, Trudges off every where In search of his tair, To some tavern at last forced to roam. Spoken, ] Ah ! poor fellow, just re- turned from a long journey of a dark night, he tumbles over the Castle of Otranto, kicks the Italian Banditti to the devil, tears Beauty and the Beast to atoms, throws the Forty Thieves in- to the fire-place, tramples on the De- vil and Doctor Faustus, destroys the Inquisition, drowns the Convent Spec- tre in a pail of water, pitches the Hag of the Lake into the cradle, beats the Hero of the North with a poker, and burns the World to ashes, while the History of Nobody and Parliamenta- ry Rerorm are the only subjects or- dered to lie on the table. Oh, then, ladies, in reading be mod- erate, pray, Or your husbands for certain the pi- per must pay. MY BEAUTIFUL SPOUSE. AWAY with those poor married fel- lows, Whose dearies are reckoned divine ! A husband can never be jealous Whose wife is as frightful as mine. Since deformity's stamp is upon her, I cry, when abroad I would stump, Adieu ! if I can't trust your honour, My love, I rely on your hump. Then away with those poor mar- ried fellows, &c. Married beauties may yield to a stran- ger, My rib need not fear such disgrace ; Her virtue is never in danger, The moment you look at her face : But her face has not many beholders, For at those who are talse to their bed So high she has shrugged up her shoul- ders, They almost have covered he* head. Then away with those poor mar- ried fellows, &c. I am safe from each common occasion That troubles a married man's life ; And even in case of invasion, I've nothing to fear for my wife ; Nay, if death in the church-yard had laid her, I shouldn't much weep at my fate ; But Nature so crooked has made her, I'm sure I shan't bury her straight. Then away with those poor mar- ried fellows, See. JEMMY GREEN. Air. — Nothing at all, MY name's Jemmy Green; many visits I've paid To the ballses, and playses, and gay masquerade ; At Tattersall's, too, I am ?z>erry fell known, 'Cause I bought there a norse, and I call'd him mine hone ; I thought him a nunter y he ad sich an Heye ; At kicking and prancing I found im so sly ; I rode im a»ay, and I thought im no dregs, But, before I got home, he had only three legs. Sing tooral lall, looral lall, la. I cent out a sliding »on day Jon the /iice, The cind it z>as keen, but the ^exercise nice ; I slidedso far, and the face »as so thin, I slipped into the »ater, and hung by my chin ; I bawl'd for assistance both lusty and loud, Fen there came round about me a norrible crowd ; Some laugh'd and some jeer'd, some look'd on vith a grin, To see Jemmy Green ( they said ) slide on his chin. Sing tooral lall, &c. 144 COMIC SONGS. My life being saved, though my for- tune look'd queer, I sought a nould otnnao, the future to hear, To ax her z;hy Fortune to me v&s so cross ; But, Lord, z>at a norrid hould ooman she yas. 1 didn't like her, so I bolted az;ay, And sail'd o'er the z^ater to France one line day ; For rambles and sprees I v&s z>ell kuow'd in town, But 1 found that in France Jemmy Green vtis done brown. .Sing tooral lull, &c. Fine buildings and places in France though there are, Yet a u.nell of a nobble I got into there ; And as in all countries I found "tvas the same, I sat otf in the packet and home again came ; Resolving no more to go gadding a- bout, Lest in seeing of life I should see my life out ; For if they should catch me among them again, Perhaps they thought vant me to fight against Spain. Sing tooral lull, &c. Now to Hingland returned, as the place of my birth, I confess it's the best place I've found upon earth ; So frogs and soup muigre, for ever adieio, I'm a 1 Niuglishman born, and I hates paries vous ; For m3' own native laud I would fight till I die, Though at lighting J own I am not .7 '•'/•'// fly ; But in order hereafter my deeds may be seen, I inwite you, — come often and hear Jemmy Green, Siftg bis tooral Lall, &c. THE SKY FA' AGES. With Additnnis. OUR immortal poet's page says that all Uic woi Id's :\ ikse, And that men, with all their airs, are nothing more than players, Each using skill and art, in his turn to play his part, All to till up the tarsical scene, O, Enter here, exit there, stand in view, mind your cue. Hey down, ho down, derry derry down, All to fill up this farsical scene, O ! First, the infant on the lap, mewling, pewling for it's pap, Like the rabbit, winch we truss, is swaddled by it's nurse, Who to please the puppet tries, as he giggles and he cries, All to fill up this farsical scene, O ! C The singer here imitates the crying of a child.) IJush-a-by, wipe an eye, kiss a pretty suck a titty. Spoken.'] Ha, ha ! it was it's none ma- ma's pretty, patty ; and if he is a good boysey, poisey, he shall go a ridey. pidey, in a coachey, poachey — Ya! ya! Hey down, ho down ! &c. Then the pretty babe of grace, with his shining morning face, And his sachel on his back, to school, alas ! must pack, While, like a snail he creeps, and for black Monday weeps, All to till up the farsical scene, O ! Book mislaid, truant play'd, rod in pickle, bum to tickle. Spoken. ,] (Imitates schoolmaster and boy.) Come up, sirrah, and say your lesson. What letter is that 'I— A. Well, sir, what is the next? — That, sir. It is not that, sir — it is this, sir. Now, spell B-i-r-m-i-n-g-h-a-m. Well, sir, what does that spell? — Birmingham. Put out your hand, sir — there ('slap- ping the boy's hand) — It is Brumma- gum. Sing hey down, ho down, ccc. Then the lover next appears, soused over head and ears, Like a lobster in the fire, sighing ready- to expire, With a deep hole in his heart, you might through it drive a cart, All to lid Up the farsical scene, O! Beauty spurns him, passion burns him, line a wizard cats his gizzard. to 0) srs> m ® w w a SONGSTER. TERRA FIRMA. Tune. — Stoney Batter.* BORN on shore was I, At the turn of tide,0, "Which makes me ever shy, To leave the water side, O ; My father could forsee A lubber's would be my lot, Yet he was lost at sea, Although he was a pilot. So I am not to blame, Along shore to abide O ; And drink success to them, That on the ocean ride, O. Then Uncle Peter, he, Collier-rigged and classed, sir. Took me under lee, To make a man at last, sir, But going in the wet One day to find a Meter The Peter -beat upset, And down went Uncle Peter. So I'm not to, &c. At school, with all my might, I tried at navigation, But ne'er could take a sight, Or make an observation ; Yet they observed my fears, For master in a rumpus, Would often box my ears, To make me box the compass. So I'm not to, &c. The lectures that he read, Ne'er made me much the cuter, For 'stead of heave the lead, I learnt to heave the pewter ; When lunar s we begun, We found 'twas much too soon, sir, For I'd been in the Sun, And could'nt see the moon, sir, So I'm not to, &c. On given points he got, On altitudes, and such like, But had he given a pot, 'Twould not have been too much like; For such a life I led, That, when a little bigger, I told the figure head, My head would never figure. So I'm not to, &c. But grown a stoutish lad, And when they thought me able, Another plague I had , To learn to make a cable ; And, singing o'er my twine, To make the time seem shorter, I've often crost the line. But never crost the water. So I'm not to, &c. Then, spite of learned prigs, Give me ashore good swigging, For though I've run my rigs, 1 ne'er liked running rigging ; The maps and charts 1 leave, Without a single murmur, And never shall I grieve While safe on terra fir ma. So I'm not to, &c» COMIC SONGS. WHO'S MASTER. I'VE often heard Will's wife declare That she the breeches, sirs, would wear ; And, though her husband would resist. For them she'd fight with nails and fist, To gain, to gain the breeches. One day as they were at it driving, (Who would be master they were striving, A sinsrle rap came to the door. And for a while they did give o'er Fighting, fighting, fighting, for the breeches. Will oped the door, the bus'ness asked ; When he who knocked poor Will thus tasked ; " The master of this house I want!" " See him just now I'm sure you can't, "Until he gets the breeches. " For spouse and Will can't well agree, " As yet, who master is to be ; " But in five minutes, sir, or so, " Who master is we then shall know, " And who's to wear the breeches." Now spouse and Will they did engage They both set on with equal rage ; At length poor Will was forced to yield, And, soundly drubbed, to quit the field ; He lost, he lost the breeches j Spouse she went unto the door, Just as Will had done before: " Good morning, friend ! your busi- ness pray 1 " I master am, I've gained the day, ** I wear, I wear the breeches ! " Yes, 1 wear, 1 wear the breeches! THE FRIGHTENED HUSBAND. FARMERS Marco and Pedro were jogging along, They had both been to market toge- ther, They grumbled that this thing and that thing was wrong, And they « rumbled about the dry weather ; Then they talked of the wars; of the times, old and new ; They talked of their saints and their sins, not a few ; And they prayed to tln.se saints for a shower or two, As they, grumbling, jogged on to- gether. The saints heard their prayers — for the sky 'gan to cloud, They were both of them put to their tether, For the rain pattered down, and the thunder roared loud, And they wished them at home safe together. But now to a church by good luck they came nigh, And in the church-porch for shelter they hie, And they talked of those folks who round them did lie, Regardless of wind or of weather. Said Marco, " this 'shower will glori- ous be found. My heart is as light as a feather, 'Twill shortly bring every thing out of the. ground, Yes, all things will spring up toge- ther." " Lord forbid!" said old Pedro, " what would be my lot? Two wives in this church-yard snug buried I've got: Should it rain cats and dogs I'll not stay in this spot," So he scampered off, spite of the weather. MR. MUG. Air. — Will you come to the Bower, BY trnde I am a turner, and Mug it is my name ; To buy a lot of ivory to Africa I came; I met a trading Blackamoor, a woolly old humbug, He coaxed me up his land, and mado a slave of Mr. Mug ; Crying wo'n't you, wo'n'tyou, wo'n'*. you, wo'n t you come Mr. Mug) Wo'n't you, wo'n't you, &c. My skin is lily white, and my colour here is new, So the first man whom they sold me to, he thumped me black and blue. COMIC SONGS. The priest who bought me from him, in a tender-hearted tone, Said come from that great blackguard's house, and walk into my own. Crying wo'n't you, wo'n't you, &c. Good lack ! but to behold the vicissi- tudes of fate ! I'm his black Mandingo Majesty's white Minister of State : For hours in my lobb3^ my petitioners shall stay, And wish me at the devil when I hold my levee day; Crying wo'n't you, wo'n't you, &c. DESERTED BY DECLINING YEARS. A Parody on the favourite Duet of "AIVs Well:' DESERTED by declining day, "When weary wignts benighted stray ; From bush, or cavern, we appear, And scare the traveller's frighted ear With — stand or die — good night — all's well ! Or riding home from fair or feast, Some farmer plodding o'er his beast; His wit o'erstopped by humming ale While thus the joskins we assail : Down every stiver, quickly tell, Your watch, your purse, good night — all's well ! THE CATALOGUE OF IFS. AlR. — Dear Tom, this brown Jug. IF the world and its measures in all things were just; If the friend, in all weathers, were true to his trust ; If the lover were faithful, not prone to deceive ; If the maid felt no hazard Love's tale to believe; If no breast to the vice of deception gave birth ; Then each bosom would be a true heaven on earth ! Truly heaven on earth ! If the world yield its worth up to sor- did neglect ; If man lose his just value for true self-respect ; If the heart be the depot of secret de- ceit; If the mind be the closet where Craft and Fraud meet ; If the soul have no force such vile guests to repel ; Though without all seem heaven, — within, all is hell ! Still, within all is hell! BARON DONDER-DRONK- DICKDORF. BARON Donder-dronk-dickdorf said one summer's day , ' Though wedlock's a name that re- volts, Whatever our folks in Westphalia may say, I've a great mind to marry Miss Quoltz : For of all the dear angels that live near the Weser, Miss Quoltz is the stoutest and tallest, Though of all German barons, ambi- tious to please her, I know I'm the shortest and small- est, Ich mochte gem danzen Waltz, Mit der langen schoensten Quoltz,, Soon Donder-dronk-dickdorf, with amorous phiz, On tiptoe imparted his flame ; ' Ah, Baron!' she sigh'd ' what a pity it is, You are not half so long as your name.' 'If names,' said the baron, 'were smaller or bigger, To suit ev'ry size at a pinch, Your name, dear Miss Quoltz, to keep up to your figure, Would measure six foot and an inch.' Ich mochte, &c. The wedding-day fix'd, both the par- ties agreed That the peasants should dance German waltzes ; And drink to the future mix'd long and short breed Of the Donder-dronk-dickdorfs and Quoltzes. To the church, then, on foot, went tjiis ace with his size — ' What's this crowd for?' cries oue of the people, COMIC SONGS. *,,*Me9****+***- 1 For a Baron ? whose taking (an arch wag replies) ' A morning's walk under the stee- ple.' Ich mochte t &c. Before supper, one night, ere their honeymoon fled, They so quarrell'd — some wives would have struck hi en — But the baroness took up the lord of her bed, And over the chimney-piece stuck him. As the servant came in, says the ba- ron, ' you clown, Not a word when the guests come to sup ; I have only been giving my wife a set down. And she giving me a set up. 1 Ich mockte, &c. HE DRINKS, AND DRINKS FOR EVER. A TARODY. AlR. — Oh, sap not Woman 's Heart is bought* OH, say not life is dearly bought By him who seeks for pleasure ; Oh, say not joy is wrongly sought When whiskey's thought a treasure! When first a youthful toper knows Its fumes, he wanders never ; He gladdens at his pimpled nose, He drinks, and drinks for ever. Oh, say not whiskey does impair, Nor like a poison rages : Still seeking ev'ry vain to tear, Nor cause such deadly changes! Oh, no ! the draught that first can warm Will leave his stomach never! Though all his friends may rant and storm, i He' 11 drink, and drink for ever. YOUNG BODKIN AND MOLLY JENKINS. YOUNG Bodkin was a tailor bold, And his love he did unfold To cruel Molly Jenkins: He soon began to curse his lot, For blacksmith Bob her heart had got, Who struck the iron while *t7oas hot, And married Molly Jenkins. To the river Bodkin ran, And drowned the ninth part of a man. For love of Molly Jenkins/ When she heard it she did sigh, Poor soul ! he's wet and I am dry, So I think I'd best wet t'other eye — Cruel Molly Jenkins. Bodkin's ghost, as it appears, Came one night all with his shears, " O lud!" cried Molly Jenkins, " The doors are locked ; what's your design 1 How you got in I can't divine ; Said he, " My ghost is superfine, Cruel Molly Jenkins." Said she, " Since you your shears have got, 'lis plain you mean that we must cut. ,y Said he, " No, Molly Jenkins ; Along with'me yon must decamp, Unto my grave so cold and damp :" She gave a squall — it was the cramp Which wakened Molly Jenkins. MORAL. Ye tailors, mark what I relate, Take pattern from poor Bodkin's fate Who died for Molly Jenkins ; And, ladies, when sly Cupid reigns, Lest trouble should reward your pains Don't, like a blacksmith, forge the chains, But think on Molly Jenkins. I NEVER SAYS NOTHING TO INOBODY.J WHAT a shocking world this is for scandal ! The people get worse every day, Every thing serves for a handle To take folks good name away. In backbiting vile, each so labours, The sad faults of others to shew body; I could tell enough of my neighbours, But 1 never says nothing to nobody. 'Tis a snug little house I reside in, And the people who're living next door, Are smother'd completely such pride in, As I never met with before : But outside the door they don't roam, A large sum of money they owe body, COMIC SONGS. Folk call, but can't find them at home , u I never says nothing to nobody. The butcher, so greasy and fat When out, he does nothing but boast Struts as he cocks on his hat, As if he supreme rul'd the roast. Talks of his wealth and his riches, Consequence always does show body ; His ugly old wife wears the breeches, But 1 never says nothing to nobody. The baker lives quite in great style, His wife is, oh, Lord ! such a fright ; New dresses she's got a great pile, They sleep out ot town every night, Country cottage completely in state, iDetermin'd not to be a low body : He's been pull'd up three times for short weight, But I never says nothing to nobody. The publican, thriving in trade, With sorrow is now looking down; His sweet little pretty bar maid Has a little one just brougth to town, He's not to be seen much about, His wife is a deuce of a shrew body, The beadles are on the look out, But I never says nothing to nobody. A methodist parson of fame, I see very often go by : His heart is fill'd full of love's flame, He visits a girl on the sly. Altho' this daily 1 see, And surely he's but a so-so body ; Of course, as 'tis nothing to me, I never says nothing to nobody. The new married couple, so happy, Seem both the quintessence of love j, He calls her before every sappy. My darling, my duck, and my dove. In private there's nothing but strife Quarrelling, fighting, o'eiHow body In short, quite a cat and dog life, But I never says nothing to nobody. I could tell, if I lik'd, such a tale Of neighbours all round great and small.; That surely I think, without fail, Would really astonish you all. But here now my short ditty ends, I dou't want to hurt high or low body; I wish to keep in with my friends, So I never says nothing to notwdy. STARVATION. AS a poor donkey lay, on a sun-sniny day, In the centre, between two fine trusses of hay, He first looked on this side, and then turned to that ; Undetermined which truss he first would have at ; Till, at length, he set up a lamentable bray, Ech-aw, ech-aw, ech-aw. As, poor donkey, he lay 'twixt the trusses of hay. His ears he erected, and stared with his eyes, On each side he saw what his heait did most prize ; And, whatever possessed him, it so came to pass, He proved in the end a most ignorant ass, — Who continued his tone, a lamentable bray, Ech-aw, ech-aw, ech-aw, As, poor donkey, he lay 'twixt the trusses of hay. The time he thus lost, in doubt turned and tossed. Was the height of all folly, he found to his cost ; 'Twas a folly indeed thus to lie there and starve, 'Cause he liked each so well he knew not which to carve : Till the farmer, hard by, heard his terrible bray, Ech-aw, ech-aw, ech-aw, Had his cart drove that way, for the trusses of hay. Thus a lesson he learnt, and its wis- dom combines, 'Tis always to make your hay while the sun shines. Ah ! never again, said the poor hun- gry elf. Will I where there's plenty be starv- ing myself. Then he deepened his tone, and, wilh horrible bray, Ech-aw, ech-aw, ech-aw, Went reluctant away, lamenting the hay. B3 COMIC SONGS THE FOX AND THE CROW. IT chanced one day, that a Crow so black, Down in a meadow so green, Had stolen a crust from a pedlar's pack, And carried it off unseen ; "Up in an apple-tree flew the crow, And, ere she the taste of her prize could know, A Fox came by and stood below, All in a meadow so green. Says Renard, Jove's eagle sure I see, Up in a tree, so high ; Says the Crow to herself, he surely means me, And a very fine bird am I. What eyes, says Renard, and what an air, That plumage so divinely fair, Never was beauty seen so rare Up in a tree so high ! The Crow, enchanted, clapped her wings, Alack ! and a well-a-day; Says Renard, I'm sure that angel sings, Could I but hear the lay : The Crow looked round at what he said, For flattery often turns the head : She opened her mouth and she drop- ped her bread, Renard caught it and gallopped away. THE DARING HIGHWAYMAN Air. — My br aw" John Highlandman. I'LLsing you a song of a daring blade Who boldly follows the highway trade ; To astonish us all, he invented a plan, And the roads will remember the highwayman. Oh ! he's a daring highwayman ! Do you know M'Adam, the high- wayman? For thumping about he invented a plan, Did this M' Adam, the highwayman. For fear a pelting he may get, He always employs a jolly set To break up .the stones, which have began To look very little at Ihe highwayman. Oh! he's a daring highway map, &c. He never yet, I believe, was caught In an act to be to justice brought, Though at the Old Baily he has be- gan Toxinake a noise has the highwayman. Oh! he's a daring highwayman, &c. The hungry Pats his schemes adore, They never met such work before ; They're hunting for bread, with empty nan', And he gives them stones, does the highwayman. Oh ! he's a daring highwayman, &c. His works, at last may raise a flood, For he kicks up a dust, and we stick in the mud ; And the draggled ladies behind each fan, All vow he's a dirty highwayman. Oh ! he's a daring highwayman, &c. There's Blackfriars' Bridge, that, not long ago, Stood proudly high, he has made quite low; Though 'mong all the bridges in the Ian' He pokes bis nose does the highway- man. Oh! he's a daring highwayman, &c. The tykes no more can now be told That London streets are paved with gold ; For, wishing their tales e'en to trepan, He knocks gold from the stones does the highwayman. ; Oh! he's a daring highwayman, &c. The country, too, his deeds bewail, For there, I hear, he does nothing but rail ; At trifles, indeed, he will not stan', For he knocks down the hills does the highwayman. Oh \ he's a daring highwayman, &c. Faith, when he dies, if it is his doom, And they raise him up a dashing tomb, I'm sure his ghost wo n't rest, but rise, And try the tomb to M *Adamize. But I'll say no more of the high- wayman. For we know he's a clever highway- man ; So every lad toss off his can To the health of M'Adam, the high- wayman. COMIC SONGS. ***+++•++*—++++++++++++++»+++++++*++*+++, CORPORAL TIMS. \IR.— " Billy Taylor." THERE was a very nice young wo- man, She lived in a place called Well- close-square, And she swore she didn't care for no man, While she earned a good eight pounds a year. Tol de rol, &c. But soon she felt Love's flame so bitter, Which Cupid's bow one day did shoot, 'Twas from Corporal Tims, of 'the Tower Hamlets, And once of the Second Regiment of Foot. Tol de rol, &c. And although but a big fat servant- of-all-\vork, He loved her true, and he often ran From the Tower, about her door to lurk, And get of Jenny a sop in the pan, Tol de rol, &c. But one day he sent her a note so moving, Saying " Duckee, I will come at two ;" But the two-penny post the maid be- loving, He read it, and said, " I'll be d — d if you do." Tol de rol, &c. Says he, I'll give this scoundrel pepper, And Corporal Tims will be season- ed then, And then I'm sure 'twould be rather odd, sirs, For his regiment were all mustered men. Tol de rol, &c. Now when Tims came up, the post- man trembled, And not a word he wouldn't say," Though after all he made him run, sirs, Twas after him, for he run away. Tol de rol, &c. Tims knocked down the post, though very tall, sirs, 'Cod but he didn't lay thefe lorig, But he run to the Tower ditch, and got drowned, And so there's an end of my sor- rowful song. Tol de rol, &c. BILLY CROW AND MISS VATSON. BILLY CROW loved Miss Vatson, a girl to his mind, Oh, oh, oh, oh, — Oh, oh, oh, oh ! She was not very big, but she was very kind — Oh, oh, &c. When shop was shut up to her he would pop, To fetch her a quartern, or give her a drop ; O sweet Billy Crow Was a nice little beau ! Oh, oh, &c. Says he, " Sweet Miss Vatson, will you be my spouse V Ob, oh, &c. But she cocked down her eyes and she cocked up her nose ; Oh, oh. &c. Says she " Do you think that I will marry you 1 " Oh, no, Billy Crow, I'll be blowed if I do ; " I love Billy Crow — " But marry you — no." Oh, oh, &c. That moment bounced in a great tali grenadier! Oh, oh, &c. Who treated Miss Vatson to muffins and beer; Oh, oh, &c. Like Q in the corner, poor Billy was stuck, 'Till out of the window they gave him a chuck ; Then poor Billy Crow Went tumbling below ; Oh, oh, &c. He ran nome m a passion himself for to shoot ; Oh, oh, &c. But, says he, " No 1 vont, for I'll go a recruit," t Oh, oh, &c. COMIC SONGS. Then to jump in the water came into his head, But the water being cold, why he jumped into bed; So forgot all his woe, For to sleep he did go. Oh, oh, &c. Miss Vatson the sojer soon took for her bride, Oh, oh, &c. And Billy, in sorrow, he soon after died. Oh, oV, &c. Thus my tale is all over, and what shall I do — If, in striving to please, my friends, I cannot please you 1 So away I will go, But first make my bow. Oh, oh, &c. A NEW BUNDLE OF WANTS. I'LL sing you a song about wants, It's a song that you're wanting of me, I don't want to make you all sad, But 1 want much to add to your glee. We all of us have wants enough Through this life as we travel along, And my first and my greatest of wants, Is — I want to please you with my song. A man that's in want of a place, You'll say that no fate can be worse ; A man that's in want of some money, He's not much in want of a purse. A man that's in want of his teeth Had better give over nut-cracking ; And he that wants shoes to his feet, Need'nt layout his money in black- ing. The ladies, Lord bless 'em! have wants, I hope they'll not take it amiss; Little miss wants to be fat mamma, Fat mamma wants to be little miss ; The old ones they want to be wed, The young ones to flirt with their beaux, But I'm certain that both old and young Have long been in want of more clothes. A man that's in want of tobacco He cannot want much with a pipe ; And he that's in want of a dinner May want half a yard of fat tripe ; The man that has corns on his toes Wants a smooth road instead of a rough : And the man that's no nose on his face Must want a new way to take snuff. The man that's in want of a leg Will make but a very poor runner; And he that's in want of an eye Will make but a pitiful gunner, Our enemies wants are supplied, British soldiers will keep 'em re- treating. Our generals gave them their wants, For they gave them a terrible beat- ing. THE MONSTROUS HORNS. JOHNNY, the footman, a nice young blade. Fell in love with the waiting-maid, N ancy ; He vowed and he swore, but his pro- mise betrayed, For John caught his mistress's fancy ; Nancy whimpered, and told him her faith he'd abused, But Johnny passed her with a shy gait; And Johnny the maid for the mistress refused, Because he'd been sworn at High- gate, By the monstrous horns at High- gate ! And Johnny the maid for the mistress, &c. John married his mistress, to fatten his purse, And happy he was he could get her, But found that she soon turned out for the worse, And feared that she'd never grow better. Some call marriage a portion, and others a pill, And with Johnny it had but a wry gait, For he found 'twas a tug up a very high hill, As steep as the hill at Highgate. As the monstrous hill, &e. *»*» **■****-++■** COMIC SONGS. >+++++*-+++++*+9++++-+r-*+*+ *< Many folks have strange fancies, and so Johnny's spouse Of her husband grew tired in a twinkling; And, as accidents happen in every house, For another she caught a strong inkling ; So, Nancy avenging for all Johnny's scorns, Her husband she gave the go-by gait, And, for legac}', left him a large pair of horns, As big as the horns at Highgate. The monstrous, &c. THE AUCTIONEER. I'M an auctioneer, so natty, gay and spruce, All must own that here, my bus'ness is of use : Set but folly up, 1 chace her thro' the town, And ere she thinks me nigh, I'm sure to knock her down. Thro' the world so wide, how plainly it appears, Many more, besides myself, are auc- tioneers, For numbers you may find, who are such crabbed elves, That-first they buy their wives, then knock 'em down themselves. Gentles great and small, now's the time for you, I buy and sell for all, Christian, Turk, or Jew ; Your smiles can set me up, but if you chance to frown, Lud ha' mercy on me, then you knock me down. GO TO BED, SAM. Air. — A Cobler lived at York. IN the conjugal chains firmly tied Sam and Sal resolved to be, The maiden a stout six-foot bride, The bridegroom just three foot and three. In their way to the church a brook Bubbled across the road, Her spouse in her arms she took, And over it neatly strode. Spoken.) "Vy doesn't you move your trotters, Sam ; you doesn't seem to be in a very great hurry to be made happy. I supposes Bet still runs in your head, a hussey ; but ven 1 am your lawful vedded vife, I'll sift that affair to the wery bottom, and if it's true, I'll ring in your ears such a Row de dow, row de dow, Go to bed, Sam. The little man's nose o'er his chin Hung, shielding it from the sun, His toes they turned prettily in ; He'd of two little pig's eyes lGst one. His bride with a snubbefied snout, Not quite an inch in size, Had legs which bow'd neatly out, And grey goggle gooseberry eyes. Spoken.'] Like the great, they saw a great deal of company, and but little of their own. Sam did not mind bend- ing his back so that he got something by it ; they drank hard, kept late hours, dined so late sometimes that they wait- ed till the following day for their din- ner; but Sal found out Sam gambled. "So, sir, you toss up with Blind- scrape, the fiddler, do you, sir?" In- deed, she did ring in his ears such a Row de dow, &c. Their tempers no more could agree, Soon another quarrel arose ; While at bandy legs sneering was he, She lustily rung his long nose ; Till forced to submit to his fate, As he must do who weds, Their broils, like those of the great, They ended in separate beds. Spoken.'] And there was an end of these Row de dow, &c. BETTY MARTIN AND MY EYE! Air. — " A piper in a Meadow . playing." VAT ish vomans ven j'ou try her ? Dat ish arl I vants to know ; Vhen for good you sell or buy her, Vat's she more as outside show 1 I've a vife vat costs me monies Every day vat ish I live, More clan, if dere better none is 3 I'd for fifty Venus's give. 10 COMIC SONGS Vat's her beauty arl, in von sense 1 Call her angel — vat a lie ; Arl you mean's no more as nonsense, Betty Martin and my eye ! Vat ish vomans, dress her fine up, But a chattering gay macaw ? If a sr-eep den be your sign up, You're de head, but she's de jaw. If you mit Old Hymen's deal vas, Tight as he may lit de ring, Vomans soon you tighter feel vas Got you in her leading-string. Vomans, vonce she cuts your mutton. You vill never be at loss, She'll (though you be quite a glutton) Ifind more as 'nough of caper-sauce. If by auction-sale you lot her Out— knocked down for bargain nice ; Of Satan's apple who vat's got her .Finds he's bought a bitter slice. Now I'll tell you, vonce for arl, vat Vomans like de vinds, vat blow Up changes — now a storm, vat's arl hot, Now more cold as frozen snow. She's as hurricanes unruly, Uncertain as a farding toss^ In short she's arl I tell, as truly As vat my name ish Enoch Moss. KITCHEN KNIGHTHOOD. Air. — Legacy. KING Arthur, once said to his Queen quite delighted, My heart feets this morning as light as a cork ; For to day by the Mayor I'm to din- ner invited, And all know I play, love, a good knife and fork. I'll no interest heed, but at this civic dinner, For once in my life I'll as free be as gay ; I'll in frolic indulge, for as I am a sinner, What pleases me best, I will knight dear to day. Tol lol, de rol, &c. To the city he went, the mob shouted and crowded, There my Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, he join' d in Guildhall ; In hopes to be knighted, tLiey all of them bow did, But he didn't knight any, none pleas'd him at all. The dinner was serv'd up, and course on course followed, When a fine Loin of Beef pleas'd his highness so much, That waving the carving knife o'er it, he hallowed, I henceforth Sir Loin! create you by this touch. Tol de rol, &c. On a fine Round of Beef his fair Queen had been feasting, Regardless though it a fare made her for Charon ; And cried, dearest Arthur, indeed I'm . not jesting, You've Knighted your Loin, now make my Round a Baron. Cried the king, I'll to please you, do all that I'm able, For though I am king, you're com- mander in chief ; Your Round of Beef henceforth shall grace my Round Table, For Rounds, shall from this time, be Barons of Beef. Tol de rol, &c. Next day at Spithead with his rib the « fleet viewing, His Majesty thought of his yester- day's sport, And presented, so much was he pleas'd at his doing, Sir Loin and the Baron in state to his Court. " Wonder not Knights," he cried, as the courtiers all bowed, Constitutional Friends — they from all bear the bell, I wish honours aye,, were as purely bestowed, And all those receiv'd tnem, deserv'd them as weh ! Tol de rol, &c. COMIC SONGS. II MAJOR LONGBOW. Air. — 1 made love to Kate. MY name is Major Longbow, Longbow is my name, . I came from the kingdom of Congo, And have oft set the Thames in a flame. I knew before I was born 1 should either walk or fly, Upon my life 'tis true, What will ye lay it's a lie. Before ever I was breech'd I offer'd to fight O' Brien ! The giant refus'd to fight, So they match'd me with " the lion." I wallop'd him so in his den I made him for quarter cry, Upon my life 'tis true, What will ye lay it's a lie. In a balioon I once was sent, Observations to descry, And how far up d'ye think I went? Why damme ninety miles high! The balloon caught fire by the way. On a rainbow then down rode 1, Upon my life 'tis true What will ye lay it's a lie. On a jumping match once \ went,, ('lis a fact what now 1 speak,) I jump'd so wond'rous high, I didn't come down for a week ; The people all star'd around, When they saw me in the sky, Upon my life 'tis true, What will you lay it's a lie. When three days I'd been in the air, I call'd on my friend in the moon, Says moone says he " who goes there," Says 1 don't ye know me spoon, " Oh", Major! says he how d'3'e do," Why sound as a roach says I, Upon my life 'tis true, What will ye lay it's a lie. I once went out a fishing, And baited my hook with a snail, I fish'd for only five minutes, And damme I brought up a whale ! This put all the fish in a funk, Who cried we shall all be fry, Upon my life 'tis irue, What will ye lay it's a lie. A chap once gave me a shove, So determin'd to punish the fellow, His head I hit off with my glove, He began for to roar and to bellow, So his pimple I fix'd on again, Not liking to hear the wretch cry, Upon my life 'tis true, What will ye lay it's a lie. Now you'll own I'm deserving the name, Of Major Longbow the Great, My modesty most people blame, Or more wonderful deeds I'd state. I ne'er told an untruth in my lite, To prove it — the world 1 defy, Upon my life 'tis true, What will ye lay it's a lie. THE SIGN OR- AND SUKEY. AlR. — The Beautiful Maid. OH, my Sukey Le Grrand Tendueci, So sweetly ne'er sung mi sol fa, Oh, che gusto, how clear it burst oh, My Breakfasts soft symphonina. When the fire warm your bosom. How loudly you sing pour amen-, How you vent your esteem stiii encore, While your kettle-drums loudly dey roar, And in furor Bravura, ^on spirito piercing my core, You sing till with love you boil o'er. Oh my Sukey not Tommy Cook he, Can suit me so well to a T, Some water, some water, Or fainting 1 shall be for thee, Yours de music of Handel, You oft in soft strains die awav. While your bright beauties still you display, On those thirsting like me for thy charms, Thou Can Tartar, Some water, Don't grow cold love and send me away, Tor ah ! with thy fire I grow warm. Oh my Sukey, the famous Gluck he Jse'er compose half so charming, not he, You still sugar the cup of Plaisir, And Creamona. your companion we see. Blow de fire little cupid Till my Sukey she sing and she dance, 12 COMIC SONGS All de while she grate comfort im- part Till she dance which is all I desire, Then 1 will Have my fill, From de o'erflowings out of her heart And drink till time put out de fire. NATIONAL WASHERWOMEN. Air. — They're a Noddi?i. THEY'RE all washing, wash — wash — washing, They're all washing, the Companj 7 by Steam : Dukes, Bishops, Earls, Lords, they have all got a share, Judges, Counsellers, and half the House of Commons too are there. They have all turn'd old women, and, pay them, 'tis true, There's nothing so dirty they will not soon get through. — And they're all washing, wash — wash — washing. They are all washing, the com- pany by steam ! For the great things and fiyie things the Lords take their places, Looking after the collars, the mantles, and the laces ; The Bishops are up to their elbows in lawn, And have all got their aprons on, 'tis true as you are born. And they're all washing, &c. From Lincoln's Inn Hall, many old suits are there, Though they're most of them rather the worse for wear and tear ; For silk gowns the Counsellors wait your commands, And the lawyers have all got blue bags in their hands. And they're all washing, &c. The Admirals daily look over the wa- while Generals and Captains give the petticoats no quarter: Fast lathering away, to fill their lines quite willing, And propping up the great things and looking very killing. Ana they're uJ washing, &c. From the stockings the Stock-brokers look for their gains, While Merchants from the city, still toil o'er their counter-pains, The Aldermen are over the table-cloths haranguing, And the judges are all on the grounds out a hanging. And they're all washing, &c. Booksellers and Authors the wet sheets have got, While Lady Macbeths are all crying " out damn'd spot" From the College of Physicians, half the faculty are dangling, With the Heads of Surgeons' Hall, to be ready for mangling. And they're all washing, &c. O'er their irons in the fire. Specula- tors look -arch, The Society of Friends are all there, furnishing the starch ; To second the small things, there's M. P.'s, as is quite proper. And Directors of Mines, head and ears in the copper. And they're all washing, &c. Many Chy mists and Apothecaries duly there you view, They prescribe their sud-ovifics, and soap orifics too : From Duke's place, the tribe of Israel their clothe-bags, in are bringing. And many a dashing Belle while fast her clapper runs is wringing. And they're all washing, &c. The Laundresses swear 'tis a tale of a Tub, And declare they will give these old women a rub ; That unless by white washing they soon get some lifts, The Subscribers will quickly be put to their shifts. And they're all washing, &c. TWO WENCHES AT OlSCE. A I R . — Margery Topping. 'TILL I fell in love, I wur happy enow, At thrashing or reaping, at harrow or plough, At sun-rise each morn wi' the lark I wur springing. And, just like the lark I wur always a singing. Tol de rol lol. COMIC SONGS. 13 Cupid quite envious of my happy life, Put into my head that I wanted a wife; 'Bout love and such like things com- fletely a dunce, si ■ I fell slap in love wi' two wenches at once. Tol de lol lol. The miller's young daughter she gave the first twist, Her lips look'd as if like, they long'd to be kiss'd; And whilst I gaz'd at her, 'twixt love and surprise, I was fairly struck dumb by her sis- ter's bright eyes. Tol de lol lol. Mary was fair as an angel could be, Eyes like sweet Betsy's I never did see; 1 tried, all in vain, my hot feelings to smother, v B3 T looking at one first, and then at the other. Tol de rol lol. If I went to see Mary, to her I were blind, For Betsy, directly, came into my mind ; And when I saw Betsy, 'twas just the contrarj'-, — 1 always were sure to be thinking of Mary. Tol de rol lol. When Betsy look'd at me, or when Mary smil'd I felt ail my senses completely be- guil'd; 'Twas all of no use, I look'd this or that way, Like a donkey between two great bun- dles of hay. Tol de rol lol. Things went on thus for a five or six week, I never could muster up courage to speak, When all of a sudden they both went to church, And left me a bachelor quite in the lurch. Tol de rol lol. Young men be advised ; if love gets in your sconce, Never go courting two wenches at once ; W ith one lass youjnay work your way safe and sound, C But between two stools, all know what comes to the ground. Tol de rol lol. A. B. C. 'TWAS Judy Shee, You'll all agree, Who kept a school for knowledge, O, The Irish brogue She taught each rogue, Much better than at college, O. She made a rule That every fool A flogging was to follow, O, With a birch broom That swept the room She made the brats to holla, O. La ral lal la 'Twas A and B, And C and D, In order she had got them, O, And all the rest Is easy guest, In portions out she'd lot them, O, 'Twas A for awl, And B for bawl, So on till F for frisky, O. But when in view, Sweet W, O ! it made her think of whisky, O. La ral lal la. She'd sew or darn, With thread or yarn, Bad work to her was shocking, O, For father Pat, His best cravat, She'd hem, or mend his stockings, O, And when at night, 'Twas her delight To see the j'oung ones frisky, O ; They'd jump and prance, And jig and dance, While she swig'd up the whisky, O, La ral lal la. Ana wnen the morn Began to dawn, She rose to take an airing, O, All right and clean Each form was seen, She brought things to a bearing, O, A life she spent, 'Twas all content, The time roll'd on so sweetly, O, So Judy Shee, You must agree, j Managed her matters quite neatly, O. I La ral lal la 14 COMIC SONGS. LEVI LYON. Tune. — Shadrach the Orangeman. I'LL sing you a song my good friends if you'll lend an ear. 'Bout a rich Jew who ne'er labour'd in vain, He got plenty of monish, but honestly never fear, That's the best link in an Ishralites chain, Bat somehow in tealing the folks call'd him thrifty, He'd ask cent, per cent, for his goods — aye but then, When he coudn't get puyers at that why from fifty He fell it, and often reduced it to ten. Singing tol de ral, &c. He had spectacles, pencils, and asses- skin writing books, Wax made of brickdust, your letters to stick, He had razors for barbers, and knives for pastry-cooks, Lamps to burn oil, without using a wick. When customers came he had all sorts to please 'em, His goots he would swear was the very best make, And if o'er stock 'd with cash, he'd no trouble to ease 'em, He thought it no labor their monish to take. , , , „ " Singing tol de rol, &c. He had articles made like to silver, you'd thought 'em, Tho' nothing but pewter, I vow and declare ; If he got a good price 'twas no mat- ter who bought 'em. Old birds you know often are caught in a snare. When profits run small he to angling would like it, Because it is said little fishes are sweet, If he once got a bite he was sure for to strike it, A bird in the hand is worth two in the street. Singing tol, arc, GABY GRUB'S COURTSHIP. POOR Gaby Grub a courting went, Hey ho riddle de de, To a stade spinster who was bent, To wed as well as he : They ogled and they slyly leer'd, But still to speak both were afeard, Till a drop of max their spirits cheer'd. Hey ho fiddle de de. But Gaby getting rather bold, Hey ho riddle de de. The question put as we we are told, And wedded soon got he : But 'ere the bells had rang a peel Poor Gaby he began to feel, He'd caught a Tartar by the heel, Hey ho fiddle de de. The honey moon was scarcely o'er, Hey ho diddle de de. When love to him prov'd quite a bore ; A termigant prov'd she : Morn, noon and night the story goes, She led poor Gaby by the nose ; Hot words were followed up by blows. Hey ho fiddle de de. Poor Gaby sought relief in vain, Hey ho fiddle de de. And vow'd if single ne'er again, Would he e'er wedded be. She gave her tongue such ample scope, That she would rnend he had no hope, So he squeez'd his throttle with a rope. Hey ho fiddle de de. BRIDGET SLIM AND GAFFER GATES. AT a village near London fam'd city, There liv'd an old maid, Bridget Slim, To live single she thought it a pity, For wedlock she'd got an odd whim, So as good luck would have it one • day, Garter Gates came athwart all her charms, And as he'd a comical way, lie just squeez'd Bridget Slim in his arms. Spoken.] Says he, most facinatingof women, permit me to assure you that the first glance of your optics com- pletely captivated the heart of your faithful admirer, who now proclaims you the dearest object of his pursuits, and who holds nothing in life equal to a smile from the adorable Bridget COMIC SONGS. 15 Slim. Therefore to complete the summit of his wishes he begs to be considered as her very faithful and mos>t humble Tu ral lu ral lu ral lu ti turn ti udle I do , Now Miss Bridget all said look'd bewitching, Because she'd got plenty of cash, That set Gaffer Gates all on itching, To win her he made a great dash ; First he prais'd her then vow'd he'd run mad If she slighted his offers so true, But a fine store of lovers she had, That poor Gaffer'd got plenty to do. SpoJcm.] You must know Gaffer Gates formerly belonged to a country choir, but unfortunately having a treacherous memory he was expelled, still, however, thinking some of his dulcet notes might please the ear of Miss Bridget, he began singing — take me to your arms my love for 1 am a friar of orders grey, And down the valley I take A lass of Richmond-hill, I'll crowns resign to — Kick up a dust in the island ; for oh its a nice little island, They all of 'em long'd for An old woman clothed in grey, Whose daughter was charming and young, And she was deluded away by A a long-tail'd pig, or a short-tail'd pig, or a pig without Six knives and forks made of red tape, A patent wash-leather polony, A gilt coat with a gingerbread cape And lined with — A wealthy squire of Dorsetshire, en- joyed the charms Of all the girls in our town there's none like Tu ral lu ral, &c. 'Twas one day Gaffer Gates in a flurry, Appointed his charmer to meet, But forgetting himself in the hurry, He scamper'd up every street Till arrived, but a shocking disaster, That teem'd full of sorrow so big, On his head he a large blister plaister, Had clapt, just instead of his wig. Spoken.'] It being a remarkable hot day it stuck as fast to his head as a dab of putty would to a glazier's hat, ' and had such an effect upon his fea- tures that his ears stood erect, his nose turned up, his mouth was all awry, and his ey*>#S# *-^^#4» ■+*■ *. THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH. Air — " Madam Fig's Gala." YOU'VE heard of one Gen'ral Mac- beth, Who was both courageous and bold, sir; He had 'scaped an unfortunate death, If his fortune had never been told, sir. With Banquo his friend, he one day, From battle victorious was coming, When some gipsies he met by the way, Who thought they'd the Gen'ral be humming. Rumpti, udity, udity, rumpti, udity, I do, Rumpti, udity, udity, ri, fal, la, de, la, li, do. They promised great things and what not, If some silver he would but come down, sir, From Macbeth two and sixpence they got, And they promised his honour a crown, sir. Banquo's was a different fate, But kings were to spring from his body, And Macbeth went home to relate The tale to his wife, like a noddy. Rumpti, udity, &c. The king he lodged with him one night, When Lady Macbeth, the vile slut, sir, Determined her husband outright, His majesty's throat for to cut, sir. Then in her chemise she turned out, And walked in her sleep up and down, sir, Till a doctor the secret found out, And told it all over the town, sir. Rumpti, udity, &c. Then Banquo's grim ghost came to sup, When Macbeth had made himself king, sir ; His hair on an end it stood up, But his lady could see no such thing, sir ; Next morn to the gipsies he hies, Who chickens were making sad slaughter on, And stealing of turnips likewise, As ingredients for their large caul- dron. Rumpti, udity, &c. By no man of woman that's born, They said, he could ever be slain, sir. Nor till on a fine summer's morn, Burnham-wood should march to Dunsinane, sir. " My wicked designs never baulking, Undaunted," says he, *' I'll now grow, sir, For trees they are not fond of walking, And men don't bear children we know, sir." Rumpti, udity, &c. But one day at the door as he stood, He beheld a most terrible scene, sir; for to Dunsinane great Burnham wood, Was marching like Jack-in-the- Green, sir ; Twas an army in bushes all crammed, Macbeth fought their Gen'ral Mac- duff, sir, And both of them swore they'd be d— d, If ever they cry'd " hold, enough, sir." Rumpti, udity, &c. Macduff was the man for his money. The charm it was quite broke asun- der : He came into life very funny, So Macbeth was obliged to knock under : He was kill'd — so the moral permit, " Shun gipsies they are a vile crew, sir; And murder don't go to commit, For you'll surely be hanged if you do, sir." Rumpti, udity, &c. BIDDY PRIM. BIDDY Prim an old Maid, kept a chandlers shop, Hey diddle ho diddle he, But in it a very few customers hop. Such a crabbed old dutches was she, She always look'd glum, and the folks thought it queer, Till one day they found out, the old girl lost her dear .20 COMIC SONGS. And that she'd a colts tooth in her head 'twas clear, Hey diddle ho diddle &c. By chance the fair damsel had lodg- ing to let ; Hey diddle, &c. "When a queer little man did her beauty beset, Tho' just turn'd of sixty was she : "When he ask'd her the price, soon a bargain he struck, Then he ogled her charms, and he call'd her sweet duck ; While she cast a sheeps eye — blest her stars for such luck, Hey diddle ho diddle, &c. Now under the roof she'd a true lover got. Hey diddle, &c. But soon he turned out a most terri- ble sot, And much given to fuddle was he; But with this consolation she ne'er " went in quest, 'Cause she knew he'd come home when he wanted to rest ; And when quite full of spirits she lik'd him the best. Hey diddle, &c. Her cash when he wanted she never denied ; Hey diddle, &c. For soon she expected he'd make her his bride ; But quite disappointed was sne : For one day he'd a quarrel, the sad naughty man, When he told her outright 'twas a flash in the pan ; So he spent all her cash, and away from her ran, Singing, hey diddle, &c. DESCRIPTION OF CAST-IRON INVENTIONS. Air — " An old Woman clothed in Gray." SINCE castriron has got all the rage, And scarce any thing's now made without it \ AsT live in this cast-iron age, I mean to say something about it. Here's cast-iron coffins and carts, Cast iron bridges and boats, Corn-factors with cast-iron hearts, That I'd hang up in cast-iron coats. Tol, lol, lol, &c. Iron bedsteads have long been in use, With cast-iron they now pave our streets, Each tailor has a cast-iron goose, And we soon shall have cast-iron sheets. Tommy Whalebone has grown quite a blade, So dextrous and clever his hand is, Swears he now shall have excellent trade, Making cast-iron stays for the dan- dies. Tol, lol, lol, &c. We have cast-iron gates and lamp- posts, Cast-iron mortars and mills too ; And our enemies know to their cost, We have plenty of cast-iron pills too. Old Gobble's as rich as a Jew, Whose wife kicks up a terrible row, sir, Cries, pray, Mr. Founder, can't you Make a cast-iron tongue for my spouse, sir. Tol, lol, lol, &c. We have cast-iron fenders and grates, Cast-iron pokers and tongs, sir. And we soon shall have cast-iron plates, And cast-iron small-clothes ere long, sir: Or should any mischievous jade Wish her dear hubby's head to adorn, sir, 'Twill be easy to have a pair made Of beautiful cast-iron horns, sir. Tol lol lol, &c. So great is the fashion of late, We have cast-iron hammers and axes, And, if we may judge by their weight, We have plenty of cast-iron taxes. Cast-iron bank-notes we can't use, But should we e're prove such big ninnies, A good Henry Hase to refuse, They must issue out cast-iron guineas. Tol, lol, lol, &c. Now my cast-iron song's at an end, I hope you'll not take it amiss, sir, COMIC SONGS. 21 +*++++»* ****■*+++*■++++■*. May your plaudits my efforts attend, My heart sure would burst if you hiss, sir: I pray, my kind friends, don't say nay, For it I'm not out of my latitude, I your goodness will never repay With such feelings as cast-iron gra- titude. Tol, lol, lol, &c. THE RAT. ONCE on a time when trade was bad, A rat, half-starv'd and weak, sirs, Set out from home, in spirits sad, His fortune for to seek, sirs. His belly was of lining bare, And he so very thin, sirs. His eyes look'd with a hollow stare, His cheeks a hollow grin, sirs. He wandered up and down 'till night, And found a large corn-bin, sirs, And there reflection told him right, 'Twas lucky to be thin, sirs. A hole there was, but that so small, It all his bones did squeeze, sirs, But when in he made up for all, By feasting at his ease, sirs. He sta3 r ed a week, ate all the corn, And got so very stout, sirs, So took it in his head next morn, To think of getting out sirs ; But when he went towards the hole, He found, as you'll suppose, sir, He'd got so fat, and that so small, 'T would scarce admit his nose, sirs. Then he began to squeak and cry, And make sad lamentation, Since never was a rat like I, In such a situation ; In this place 1 must stay so sad, As food for the Tom cat, oh ! , Or else what is almost as bad, Must fret down all my fat, oh ! Now listen to my moral true, The placeman in his station. Grows rich and fat, and saucy, too, By plundering the nation ; And when his pockets well are fraught, He's willing to resign sirs, But, like the rat, don'nt like the ! thought Of giving back the coin, sirs. KING HARRY, AND HIS SIX WIVES ! Air — " Madam Fig's Gala. 19 'TIS a comical ditty I sing, The blue devils hoping to parry, My subject, I swear, is a king, And he is the eighth English Harry : His temper was terrible hot, As honest historians tell ye, And he tempered his clay with a pot, Which accounts for his royal pot- belly! Rum ti idity, &c. Soon he married (to dry up her tears) The widow of Arthur, his brother ; They cuddled and kicked eighteen years. When he had his eye on another : Nanny Boleyne, beyond all dispute, Her lips were like cherries pretty, And he, longing long for such fruit, Begged the Pope to divorce his queen Kitty. Rum ti idity, &c. Mister Pope would not do that, that's flat, And a great Jlat he was, too, I fancy For Hal married, and turned out queen Kate, And turned into her place lady Nancy ; Then the Pope he shook off, who, num- skull, Sent a bull, to make bold Harry bow, sir, But what for his bull cared John Bull, Whom no bull nor bully could cow, sir. Rum ti idity, &c, Well, his majesty lov'd his new dear As any old miser his guinea, But jealous he was, and severe, And Nancy would oft play the ninny; He, at last, caught her playing, 'tis said, At kiss-in-the-ring with some sol- diers, So he first took the crown from her head, And then took her head from her shoulders. Rum ti idity, &c. Then, a third and fourth wife had their day, 22 COMIC SONGS. ++++**+*■+■*■**++++■*++ And a fifth tied the knot with this madman, But she wanted to have her own way, And, when bridled, she call'd him a bad man ; Her bad words gave the king a bad shock, And he mourned that good wives were uncommon, When he once again thought of the block, Where the3 7 chopped her — into a good woman. Rum ti idity, &c. Yes, a sixth did this gray Blubeard get, With a tongue in length full three miles German, And she preached him a long ser- monet, That had near been her funeral ser- mon ; For he ordered her off to a jail, Next to grace Tower-hill was her dread, sir; But, however,to save a long tale, The king died, and this queen saved her head, sir. Rum ti idity, &c. HE WHO MATCHES A LAW- YER HAS ONLY ONE MORE. A LAWYER, quite famous for mak- ing a bill, And who in good living delighted, To dinner one day with a hearty good will, Was by a rich client invited ; But he charged six-and-eightpence for going to dine, Which the client he paid though no ninny ; And, in turn, charged the lawyer for dinner and wine. One a crown and the other a guinea . But gossips, you know have a saying in store. He who matches a lawyer has only one more. The lawyer he paid it, and took a receipt, While the client stared at him with wonder: But gave to his friends, with the pro- duce, a treat, Though the lawyer soon made him knock under. That his client sold wine, information he laid, Without license; and, in spite of his storming, The client a good, thumping penalty paid, And the lawyer got half for" inform- ing. But gossips, you know, &c PRODIGIOUS. WHEN up from boyhood first I grew, And Latin learned to chatter, The wise admired, the stupid stared, And cried what is the matter 1 In lingo this queer guy, it seems, is cursedly fastidious, They thought me fool, I knew them so, now wasn't that Prodigious 1 As domine, a school I kept, Of whip I was not sparing, I flogged away, the urchins wept. Nor thought my gift worth sharing, But older grown, with wicked wit, and malice most perfidious, Of learning big, they burnt my wig, now wasn't that Prodigious ? To politics my mind I turned, In stocks became a broker, But swift away my money flew, A prey to each keen joker ; Both bulls and bears assailed my ears, with every one insidious, Like silly lout, I waddled out, now wasn't that Prodigious? Frugality was still my plan, Or cash though not a hoarder, So twenty pence a week I paid, At Sour Crout's as boarder ; A worthy man I found he was,. and not at all litigious, 1 eat his grub, and paid him, too, now wasn't that Prodigious 1 But here when such a scene I view, With gratitude I'm burning, And hope you'll find I'm not be- hind In compHments returning ? COMIC SONGS. 23 The prospect now, both high and low, makes former objects hideous, My thanks I send to each good friend, whose kindness is Prodigious 1 THE IRISHMAN'S CHAPTER OF ENGLISH KINGS. Air — " Paddy's Wedding" FIRST Norman Will made Britons feel That he would rule the nation, O ! Then Hal, and Maud, and Steph.the clod, Made a devilish botheration, O ! Then Harry next, though brave, was vexed, Because his sons were teasing, O ! Then Dick and John, who brought och hone ! The charter's rights so pleasing, O ! Spoken.] Och, faith, he did, but he soon made himself a soul for all that, by eating too many eels. Henry the 1 hird had nothing good hut a bad eye ; and Edward the First's wife took the poison out of his wound, not like many of our modern ladies, who would have let him alone, just for quietness sake; but, poor creature, she was a very unfortunate woman, and, I suppose, for that reason even London remains full of crosses to this present day ; but sing Tweedle de dum, Och ! sound the drum, And let the fifer whistle, O ! While I, with glee, Wish unity, 4 To the shamrock, rose, and thistle, O ! ^hey killed his son, quite dead and ,gone; With speed third Ted was throned you know. Of second Dick they soon were sick, And Bolingbroke was crowned you know. Then Hal, that rake, all France did take; Sjxth Harry foiled all wishes, O! While crooked-back Dick choused Ed- ward's son, And made him food for fishes, O ! Spoken.'] Ay, but then he soon threw the load off his back at Bosworth- field. Then Richmond made him- self king, and First Lord of the Trea- sury at the same time : while his big son Harry cured his wives of talking by a mighty sure way — cutting them short. First, there was poor Kate, who he divorced, because he was calf enough to take a Bullin, but her eyes were soon closed in death, the king hav- ing expressed a particular desire to Seymour. Husbands, they say, should always cleave to their wives j; but Anne, of Cleves, never took his tnncy ; so he took a fancy to Howard, but thinking she was rather too high born, he soon lozcered her in his opinion, and that of every body else, till, by good luck, he lost all interest himself, just as he was getting above Parr, for Dr. Death sung — Tweedle de dum, &c. Then came young Ted, who soon went dead ; Next Mary, called that divil, O ! Whose reign when set, made room for Bet, Who entered very civil , O ! Then James the Scot, and powder- plot, Where merely puff together, O ! Then Charley's head, away it fled, And Cromwell's soon came thi- ther, O ! Spoken] Ay, faith, he did, but he went away again, too ; and then came that cosey monarch, who first intro- duced litz into the royal family. Then James was kicked out, because he wanted to bring Rome into London, but he made a bit of a bull there. Will was a rum customer: while Anne got into the right shop, like a queen bee in her own mansion. Then came the four Georges, and long may the last of them live in a jovial scene of new buildings, great palaces, and Macadamization, till London shall reach to North America, and then the working community may be em- ployed, in about three hundred years, from here to the Red Sea, with — Tweedle de dum, &c. 24 COMIC SONGS. c ********** **** ****** ************** THE BILL-STICKER. I'M a bill sticker, so famous, And ev'ry wall around 3'ou may tell, If you read, that I'm no ignoramus, But if you can't read you must spell ; And bills, you must own, my em- ployers, Long enough in all conscience they send, But they're nothing to tailors and lawyers, For their bills have never an end, Fol de rol, &c. With system I manage my matters, By agreement or circumstance led, So stick all the bills of famed hatters, Over bills of the Saracen's head ; Patent wig-bills, to measure law- knowledge On Westminster-hall 1 imprint, And on Warwick-lane physical col- lege, Patent coffin-bills serve for a hint. Fol de rol, &c. Like my betters, 1 thus live in clover, By billing lanes, alleys, and streets ; j? or bills are the fashion town over, Though 1 can't say so much for receipts; My trade ever merrily flits on, May billing go merrily, too ; And the Bill of Rights, drawn by each Briton, Be honoured whenever it's due. Fol de rol, &c. THE GENERALS OF ENGLAND. AlR — " The Chapter of Kings.'"' OF a nation of generals, noble and great, The muse in her ditty is proud to relate, And William the Norman, a general bold, Stands bright on the list in the records of old. Yet, this we can say, sir, Each one in his da}', sir, Were all of tlifttn, great in their turn. Stout Harry \ of liichmond, a general brave, Sent General Richard the IViird tohis grave ; For Richard who seldom was given to yield, In fight was done over in Bosworth- Field. Yet, this we can say, &c. Queen Anne, ev«r dear as old Eng- land's queen, Could^ boast of her general, gallant Eugene ! Prince lerdinand, he was a general, too, And both made the French very oft to look blue. Yet, this we can say, &c. Then General Marlborough led them a dance, Till he lowered the. pride of the lilies of France ; And if such a thing as a doubt should remain, Why, the Battle of Blenheim the truth will explain. Yet, this we can say, &c Duke Billy, of Cumberland, (rather too fat,) Was a general brave, notwithstanding of" that; While General — general — dear is to fame. O, the Marquis of Granby, I think was his name. Yet, this we can sa} 7 , &c. Then General Wolfe does the cata- logue deck, Who died, but O, not till he'd taken 1 vebec ! While General Harris gave Tippoo a knock, And General Elliott, was " Cock of the Rock." Yet, this we can say, &c. Then General Picton, with General Moore, Were heroes like those in the annals of yore : While Wellington, Anglesey, Lyne- dock, and Hill. Are Generals great and illustrious still! Yet this we can say, sir, Each one in his way, sir. Were all of them brave in their turn. COMIC SONGS. 25 THE DASHING YANKEE DOODLE. MY daddy to my mammy said, " Do marry me, my dear miss; My mammy, blushing, hung her head, And softly sighed, " Oh, yes." My daddy loved his backer-pipe, Mv mother lov'd her poodle, Till "1 appeared a cherry ripe, Dear little Yankee doodle. Ki tol lol, &c. My beauty was so great and grand, To kiss me each would squeeze ; My mouth was like a haystack, And my lips like buttered peas : When breeched, at length, ye gods! how fine ; 'Tis true, or I'm a noodle, They called me, then, the genuine, Right charming Yankee Doodle. m toi ioi, &e. The most correctest possibly Or" horficers 1 am ; Lauks, how the girls all laughs at I, And how I laughs at 'em ! But 'tis my beauty makes of all The most compietest noodle ; They loves me ; long, short, large, and small, The dashing Yankee Doodle. Ki tol lol, &€. A captain milintary deckt, Take heed, ye lovely friskers ; For werry soon 1 does expect To vear a pair of viskers ; But with a tear I now departs, Don't think vot I'm a noodle, If 1 stays here, you'll lose your hearts, Ay, all to Yankee Doodle. l\i tol lol, &c. THE COCK AND THE FOX. WHEN birds, beast, and fishes could talk, "Which now is a long time ago, An old fox went out for a walk, As foxes will do you all know. Now whether this fox was a he Or a she, why 'tis not here nor there; Your thoughts on the subject are free, For my part 1 don't know, nor don't care. Tol, di rol. D He wandered the whole of the night, Hunger was pressing him hard ; Just at The peep of day -light He came to a well-known farm-yard, The streaks of the morning were near, With" caution the yard he slunk through : He started, for close to his ear Was a loud cock-a-doodle-doo ! Tol de rol. At the instant he gave a great jump, Then cautiously round he did look ; And there stood a cock fat and plump, Who cried out Quaa, twook, twook, twook, twook. The sight of him made the cock stare, And set every feather on end ; Cries the fox very sharp, who goes there? Says the cock, very flat, 'tis a friend. Tol de rol. Says the fox, it would serve you just right If 1 tore your fine body to shreds ; For you make such a noise every night, You wo'n't let the folks rest in their beds. Y r ou shall find that I'm not in play- But before 1 do stop your vile breath, Cup, tell me what you have to say, Why 1 should not pass sentence of death I Tol de rol. O, good sir, pray don't be so surly, I'm only an innocent cock ; And I wake every morning so early, To serve folks instead of a clock. My duties you cannot call crimes, Dear me, how my poor neck }ou jerk! My crowing so loud and betimes Is — to make — folks — get up — to — their work. Tol de rcl. Says the fox, I shall here end all po- ther; You're not fit to be in this life ; For your sisters, your daughters, nay, mother, You serve just the same as your wife. Says the cock, with a voice very low, That's nature's fault — not — mine — i'fegs, 26 COMIC SONGS. For if — I — did not — serve — them — so My master must — go— without — eggs. Tol de rol. Cries the fox, O you know that's all fudge, You're the vilest and worst ot all birds ; A fox is an excellent judge, And we foxes don't live upon words. So your practices base I shall check, In your sins you sha'n't be a day older ; So saying, he broke the cock's neck. And brushed off with him over bis shoulder. Tol de rol. A moral to this I could tell,' But I hope you my word will not doubt, As I think it will be quite as well If £ leave your own brains to find out You may think the whole story is mock, And indeed if you do you think wrong : But as the fox finished the cock, 'Tis time that I finished my song. Tol de rol. CHAPTER OF TOASTS AND SONG OF SENTIMENTS. MOST folks give their sentiments after their song, But 1 cannot say that is my tether ; To part'heart and harmony sure must be wrong, Song and sentiment I join to- gether : So at once in a seng I'll my senti- ments give, Sure you'll all approve what I am given — Here s The King, heaven bless him, and long may he live, With Old England, the land that we live in. Then here's Lovely Woman! each man will drink that, For in each care and ill she'll re- lieve him ; Sweet Home, for tho' homely, 'tis home for all that, With A Friend and a Bottle to give him. Here's May honour and honesty never decline, 'Tis the wish of my heart, I assure ye; May Justice and Mercy for ever en- twine, With our glorious Trial by Jury. Here's The heart that can feel for another s distress. And The man that was never un- grateful ; Here's May we the smiles of good humour possess, With friends around cheerful and faithful. Here's Our old Wooden Walls, that still lay our foes flat, With those treasures, Wives, chil- dren, and friends. Here's Our own noble selves, and jnow having drank that, Here my song of good sentiment ends. THE MARVELLOUS WELL. A STORY there runs of a marvel- lous well, Near Florence, famed city, as travel- lers tell), To St. Agnes devoted, And very much noted, For mystical charms in its waters that dwell. With all new-married couples, the story thus goes, ; Whichever drinks first of the spring there that flows, Be it husband or wife, That one shall for life On the other a yoke of subjection impose. Young Claud led Claudine to church as his bride, And wedlock's hard knot in a twink- ling was tied ; But the clerk's nasal twang, Amen ! scarce had rang, When the bridegroom eloped from his good woman's side. Away, like a hare from the hounds, started he, COMIC SONGS. £7 Till reaching the well,— dropping plump on his knee ; •_ " Dear Agnes!" he cried, " Let me drink of thy tide, And the right to the breeches establish in me." He quaffed till nigh bursting, — again turned to quaff, Till the bride in pursuit reached his side with a laugh : Lifting briskly his head, To the lady he said, ■ I'm first at the well, spouse! — so bow to the staff." The dame to her hubby, replied, with a sneer, — "JThat you're first at the well, after marriage, is clear ; But to save such a task, I filled a small flask, And took it to church in my pocket, my dear!" DOCTOR LAST; OR, THE PHYSICAL SNOB. O ! I AM a physical snob, Can cure every disease very fast ; There's no better hand at a job, Nor so clever a man at a last. I'm the son of p. seventh son, I, sirs, Although in no chariot I rolls ; As a doctor I'd cure up your bodies, And, as cobbler, I'd stitch up your souls. Spoken.'] If you were only now to see me in my shop, with my awls and every thing so nice about me, and to see how finely 1 handle and toss about the — Tol, lol, &c. Your Warwick-lane bred up physi- cians, Strut about, and look wondersome big; While ail their knowledge skill lies In a gold-headed cane and large wig. As for me, I can cure all distempers, However so great they may be ; But, like most of my learned brothers, No prescription without I've my fee. Spoken."] No, no, there's nothing for nothing in my shop ; I'll not give you the scrapings of a gallipot, or a pen- 'north of ointment, without you come down handsomely; I'm always for touching the — " Tol, lol, &c. My wife, a poor dropsical creature, I thought it might be for her good, She was so blown and bloached up with water, For to let a few ounces of blood. My lance it was out of the way, sir, But my awl did the business as well, — She died, as a body may say, sir, Though the reason I never could tell. Spoken.] So after her death her friends came all to me, and began a weeping ; but, says I, my good friends what signifies our grief, we are all grass and hay, — here to-morrow and there to-day! We must all die from the king on the throne to the pig on the dunghill; but that business made me part with my — Tol, lol, &c. Tippy Bobby, a crop of the age, T'other day in great haste for me sent, Lest death should toss him off the stage So straight to my gemmau 1 went. I tipt him my lotion for sleeping, Which, in a little time after he'd ta'en, It made him to sleep so sound, sirs, So sound, — that he ne'er waked again. Spoken.] So next day I called to see how my patient did. I met the girl at the bottom of the sairs ; so says she, " Walk in Doctor Last," with a long face ; but what should I see, to my great surprise, but my triend Bobby lying on a table, covered with a white sheet : ho ! ho \ thinks I, there's no more use for the doctor here. I saw his brother standing at the win- dow, as it might be ; but, says I, my dear friend keep up your spirits, for it's the way we must all go, from the king on the throne to the pig on the dunghill. Very true, Doctor ; but pray what is your bill 1 Oh ! says I, never mind that just now. But, says he, the death of my brother has made me extremely melancholy, and I wish to go to London to try to wear it off. Ho ! ho! says 1, if that's the case, I tipt the gentleman my bill ; so I tipt 28 COMIC SONGS. *++++++++++++++*, him the bill, and he came down very fenteelly, very genteelly, indeed ; and came away, wishing him a good morning, and saying, keep up your spirits, sir, for we are all mortal, — grass and hay, here to-morrow and there to-day ! but all that mummery was after I touched the — Tol, lol, &c. THE BACK AND THE BELLY. A STORY I'm going to tell ye, Which, if you 11 attend to, you'll hear in a crack, 'Tis about a man's hungry belly Conversing along with his back ; Says the belly, " Here I have beer; fasting, For twenty -four hours and more, And if this fun is to be lasting, Mr. Death will soon open his door." Says the back, " You your appetites doat on, You're satisfied never I really do think. Don't you see that I've got a new coat on, You can't expect victuals and drink I must make a genteel appearance, 'Tis of no use your being so hot, For the pocket has had such a clear- ance, There's nothing for you in the pot. Says the belly, " Why you have no feeling, While at your new coat all the people may stare, My rumblings are loudly revealing There's nothing within me but air ; You may set it down really as done, sir, If 1 don't soon have boiled meat or roast, Both of us, as sure as a gun, sir, Must certainly give up the ghost." But the back thought there was no need on't, And cared not a fig for what the belly did say, And the effect of his taking no heed on't, Was, that both of them went to decay ; Mr. Death's name was soon plainly wrote on, He nailed 'em without any rout, And now, instead of a fine flashy coat on, They're wrapt in a wooden surtout. The drift of the story I tell ye, Is plain to eyesight as white is from black. If you do not take care of your belly, You soon will be laid on your back; So enjoy yourself in moderation, Live neither too low nor too high, And then, by a clear calculation, You'll all of you live — till you die. majorTongbow. I'M a General, 'tis very well known, for ever in a bustle, My head's as hard as any stone, And damme lots of muscle ; Nothing hurts me, d'ye see, *■ I can either walk or fly, Upon my soul it's true, What will you lay it's a lie? I swam from Dublin bay, To the middle of the sea, With three men upon my back, For damme there's nothing hurts me 1 met a shark on my way, I shoved out his left eye, Upon my soul its true, What will you lay it's a lie I met a ship in distress, Buffetting among the rocks, I lifted her on my back, And carried her into dock, There I drank a whole puncheon of rum, Eat an ox and a half or nigh, Upon my soul it s true, What will you lay it's a lie ! To the mermaids taught quadrilles, Their assembly room's the sea, Their light the glorious Sun, More brilliant what could be; They danc'd and got so hot, Their fish began to fry, Upon my soul it's true, What will you lay it's a lie 1 By way of a savory dish, I toasted a whale on a fork, Drank thirty dozen of wine, hi the time you could draw a cork ; Picik'd my teeth with a Unicorn's horn, Which by chance came trotting by, COMIC SONGS. Upnij my soul it's true, Wh t will you lay it's a lie ? In the East I din'd with a friend, Where they have no window saskes, The sun beams enter'd the room, And burnt his wife to ashes, Sweep your mistress away, said he, Bring wine for nrv friend and I, Upon my soul it's true, What will you lay it's a lie 1 ? I came home on a Congreve- rocket, So swift the seas I cross'd, That only for Nelson's pillar, Dear Dublin I'd surely lost. With joy shook hands with the statue, Which instantly wink'd it's eye Upon my soul it's true. What will you lay it's a lie 1 ENCORE. What ! want this Song again 1 Well, well, then 111 try, To please you's my delight, W ho'll lay that it's a lie 1 W ith those around me now, I'd wish to live and die, Upon my soul it's true, Who'll lay that it's a lie J I call'd on the man in the moon, And took an early lunch, Eat part of a fry'd baboon, Drank a gallon of whiskey punch : Coming down I fell in with the stars, When a comet run into my eye, Upon my soul it's true. What will you lay it's a lie 1 I went to a play in Florence Where I saw such a tragedy follow, From the boxes tears fell in such tor- rents, In the pit I put up my umbrella : But the tears fill'd the pit with water, Not a thread of my clothes was dry, Upon my soul it's true, What will you lay it's a lie 1 Such a muscle I've got d'ye see, That in the fighting ring, It is but a few weeks ago, That I bang'd both Langan and Spring. I took Algiers by surprise, Which mad the old Dey cry ; Upon my soul its true, h What will you lay it's a lie 29 1 went out for a ride, And left them in the lurch. I jump'd from Leadenhall Market, Unto St. Paul's Church: 1 went into the cathedral yard, Thro' the cathedral up to the sky ; Upon my soul it's true, What will you lay its a lie? THE BEAUTIFUL MAID OF SEVENTH. A I R — '* Ballinamonahora ." YE lovers, behold a poor maiden for- lorn, But as pretty a creature as ever was born ; My nose it is flat, and my eyes they are sunk, And they eoggle about just as if they were drunk, My cheeks, like a turnip, are fair, O! Like carrots my beautiful hair, O! My charms make the gentlemen stare, O ! And they call me the beautiful maid. My legs they are bent, but I dance with a grace, And the hump on my back adds a charm to my face ; Though dimples I've none, I have v wrinkles a score And I'm sure you ne'er saw such a beauty before. But pray what's beaut3', alas, O ! With the beaux now-a-days 'tis a farce, O ! For lovers all look for the brass, O ! And they slight the poor beautiful maid. 1 have lived in the world about seventy years. And I weep every night half-a-pail full of tears; For I fear that, alas ! there'll be soon no escapes, From the terrible doom, sir, of lead- ing of apes. 1 1 makes me look wonderful blue, sir, I really don't know what to do, s\r, Some prospect I hope there's in view, sir. To marry the beautiful maid. 30 COMIC SONGS. +-++++++*+++*+++++++*+++++++■ **WW*j Oh, gentlemen, surely your hearts are all stone, To turn a deaf ear to my pitiful moan. To look with contempt on my love and my truth, And be blind to the graces of beauty and youth. Oh, gentlemen, what are you arter 1 My neck I will hang in a garter 1 Or plunge in the New River water, If you frown on the beautiful maid. I've a secret to tell that will alter the case, And will surely remove ev'ry frown from your face ; Then spouses in plenty will come in a swarm, Though your hearts they are cold, my purse it is warm. You'll call me an adorable crea- ture, Discover a charm in each feature, For beauty no Venus can beat her, And you'll marry the beautiful maid. MOEY AARON ; Air — " Bartholomew Fair." FRIENDS, I'll tell you what is true, I'm a very knowing Jew; As a pedler I go, And I wander to and fro, With my box before my belly, I sells some goods, I tell ye, And I've got a little money, too, to stare on. Mith vatches, rings, And pretty things, Knives and scissors, Glass for quizzers, Mith pretty toys, For girls and poys. Spoken.} Ay, my friends ! here are all the very fine gold prooches, with not a bit of brass nor copper in 'em : — here they are, better as new, and cheaper as dirt ! — Come, and puy ; 1 don't sell for profits ; I only wants to get a good name, and den I can sing — Hey down, ho down, derry derry down, I'm an honest Jew, called Moey Aaron. As throughout the week I roam, A great distance from my home, Mith my feet both wet and tired, Still my goots they are admired, Till some naughty little poys, "Who are out of good employs, Cry out to me Jew Moyeh, and folks stare on. Go, go away, To dem I say, It is not right To raise my spite For I'm a Jew, 'Tis known to you. Spoken.'] Yes, to be sure, it is known to every body, for my greatest pride is not to disgrace my tribes ; always to carry my box full of my own goots, and never to covet my neigh- bours' propertys ; — den I can always pass by Newgate mitbout turning my head away from the Debtor's Door ; and I can look a bum bailey in the face mithout any fear, while 1 sing — Hey down, &c. When my box I empty quite, Then I goes home at night, Takes my supper goes to bed, And so quiet rests my head ; Then, next morn 1 rise, I vow, For the bits of buckle yow, While my pretty wife, enchanted, I do stare on. I takes my tea, Then wife and me Each other meet Mith kisses sweet, Till she says Mo, "lis time to go. Spoken.} Yes, my vife always knows when it is time to go, and when it is propersh to come; she is a nice woman, and has brought me a nice little family ; for dere is Isaac, and Nebuchadnezzar, and Ezekiel, and Abraham, and Solomon, and Daniel, and Lipey, and David, and Absalom, and Noah, and Alek, and Benjamin, and Isaiah, and two or three dozens more that hav'n't been named yet ; and we expects five or six others by the end of next year, for I'm a very industrious husband, and every night I sings — Hey down, &c. COMIC SONGS. 31 THE PIG IN A POKE. Air. — Doctor Brown. TWO clowns once, indeed 'tis no joke. Went to law 'bout a pig in a poke : Cried one, "I'll give ail up for jus- tice." Cried t'other, "in law my whole trust is," So together they both 5 gan to trudge With their suit, to a very deep judge, Who cried " pr'ythee friends, cease your fears, Your cause won't last more than ten years." Oh, law ! oh, law ! oh, law ! Your cause, &c. Both bumpkins well knew that law's tribe, Wouldn't faint at the sight of a bribe. So thought one, I will back again budge And the judgment rub up of the judge, Says he, " Judge here's a barrel ot wine, 'Tis yours if the law-suit is mine?'' Cried the judge " don't keep whining good fellow, Tis mine, roll it into my cellar." , law ! oh, law ! oh, law ! 'Tis mine, &x. Now the other, nor was he mis- I taken, Thought he could with a hog save his bacon ; So he swore to the judge he dispatcr her, If his^rival was rash he was rasher. " Your opponent has been here before, But this sow proves that he's a great bore ; So trundle her into my stye, And I'll prove black's the iwhite of your eye. Oh, law! oh, law! oh, law! And I'll prove, &c. He who'd given the wine, all agog. Found his hopes all grubb'tl up by the hog ; And went to the judge quite dis- may 'd At his breaking the promise he'd made. When the judge coolly said, "patience pray, I decided for you had to-day, But last night my good friend a fat swine, Broke in, and drank up all your wine.'" Oh, law ! oh, law ! oh, law ! Broke in, &c. MRS. G. Air — "My Love is like a red red Rose? 1 MY wife she is a wonder quite, Which you will plainly see ; Her name at length I cannot write, But call her Mrs. G. Others may be very good, But this 'twixt you and me, Few names have ever fairer stood Than that of Mrs. G. G reat poets they may write a book, Or actors comic be, And Mrs. Glasse may be a cook, But so can Mrs. G. Lawrence paints fair forms they say, Detraction's far from me, But should he ever come this way I'll show him Mrs. G. Bishop may compose a song, To sing it ask Miss Tree, But they must both try pretty long, Ere they beat Mrs. G. Miss Stephens' voice is very sweet, When warbling up to E ; But I'd ask all who love a treat, If they've heard Mrs. G. Some orators your ears have rung, You may contented be ; But those who'd wish to hear a tongue, Should call on Mrs. G. 'Tis true that Kean once made a hit, To praise him you are free, And Thomas Cnbb can box a bit, And so can Mrs. G. \ Vestris may make her dancing tell* To vvhich I will agree ; And Noble caper pretty well, But not like Mrs. G. o2 COMIC SONGS. No doubt your wonders fast increase, And much you think of me ; But let at once your wonder cease, I'm spouse to Mrs. G. MISERIES OF SATURDAY. Air — " There is nae Luck." TH ERE is no peace about the house, In kitchen, parlour, hall, There is no comfort in the house On Saturday at all. Where'er you turn, a noise assails Of brushes, brooms, and mops ; Besides a host of pans and pails, For various stinking slops. Then there's rubbing, scrubbing, tear- ing, swearing, sounding ev'ry way, Of all the days throughout the week, the worst is Saturday. Hark ! is that dread thunder near, Or noisy drum and fife? Oh, no, the music that I hear Is charwoman and wife ! Both laughing, scolding, talking, singing, Gad ! there's such a din, That all Babel's workmen ringing, Conquered, must give in — To their rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, echoing ev'ry way, Of all the days within the week, the worst is Saturday ! In apron blue, now comes your belle, And gown, well stored with holes, For colour it might passing well Claim kindred with the coals. Then, she says, "You know, my dear, Some make their husband rue, By taking their good clothes to wear When any thing will do, For their scrubbing, rubbing, wear- ing, tearing." — O curse them all, 1 say ; Of all the days throughout the week, the worst is Saturday. Begrimed with dust, with dirt, and grease, She now sits down to dine ; At banyan day, of bread and cheese You now must not repine ; Your goods and chattels, now dis- placed, All in confusion stand ; Some are broke and some defaced, By esach destructive hand, With their rubbing, scrubbing, tear- ing, swearing, sounding ev'ry way ; Of all the days that's in the week, the worst is Saturday. At length, thank Fate ! the warfare's o'er, But now, the peevish frump Insists that all across the floor We must hop, skip, and jump, For fear the milk-white boards should soil, Or furniture bewray : Ah ! woe to him who dares to spoil The work of Saturday, After rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, all their time away, Of all the days that make the week, the worst is Saturday. Then, to avoid a din and noise, For rational delight, We haste to join some jolly boys On Saturday at night ; Then we're met, a jovial set, We drive dull Care away, In harmony, we soon forget The woes of Saturday, And their rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, all the live-long day, But the night of mirth will soon re- quite the woes of Saturday. OH ! THE PLEASURES OF OUR STATUTE FAIR O. Air — "Bartholomew Fair" COME, bustle, neighbours, pray, Isn't this the Statute-day ? See how the maids, in rows, Stand dressed in Sunday clothes. Psha, never mind the sun. Only think about the fun. The Statute His beginning, oh rare oh, Now then maids, Mind, you jades, Let your graces, Pretty faces, Ribbons, laces, Get you places, With good wages, Which all engages. Spoken.'] Yes, this is the mart for maids. Here's maids of all sorts, young maids, old maids, pretty maids, willing maids, big maids, little maids, house maids, chamber-maids, ladies'- mllds, cook-maids, nurse-maids, hush COMIC SONGS. . by my darling, dairy-ma.ds, milk »elow ; with made wine, made linen, and every thins; to make one a made man. Ah, it is very plain, my mas- ter, Don Giovanni, hasn't been here long, or they wouldn't have been here. Von must make haste, friends and neighbours, for it once helcomes among them, the deuce a maid will he leave for you. ]S o, no, they'll very soon alJ be— Hey down, ho down, derry derry down, Oh! the pleasures of our statute fair O. HEY FOR THE SAWYER. AND HEY FOR TILE LAWYER. Air — " If, into your Hen-yard" TO set up a village, with tackle for tillage, Jack Carter he took to the saw ; To pluck and to pillage, the same little village, Tim Gordon, he took to the law. They angled so pliant, for gull and for client, As sharp as a weazle for rats ; Till what with their saw-dust, and what with tneir law-dust, They blinded the eyes of the flats. Then hey for the sawyer, and hey for the lawyer, Make hay, for it's going to rain ! And saw 'em and law 'em, and work 'em, and quirk 'em, And at 'em again and again. Jack brought to the people, a bill for the steeple, They swore that they wouldn't be bit; But out of a saw-pit, is into a law- pit, Tim tickled 'em up with a writ. Cried Jack, the saw rasper, " 1 say neighbour Grasper, We both of us buy in the stocks ; While I, for my savings, turn blocks ^ into shavings, You, lawyer, are shaving the blocks." Then hey for the sawyer, &c. Jack frolicked in clover, and when work was over, Got drunk at the George, for a freak But Timothy Gordon — he stood for church-warden, And eat himself dead in a week ; Jack made him a coffin, but Timothy off in A loud clap of thunder had flown, When lawyers lie level, be sure that the devil Looks sharp enough after his own. Then hey for the sawyer, FAMILY BREECHES; Air — " Wine does Wonders evry Day." WHEN a woman looks askance, When her tongue begins to dance, When of wooing-days she preaches ; If the war of words runs high, If she use the pronoun I, — Ask her if she'd wear the breeches ? That, though she may then deny, That she means, and that she'll try, That she'll do, too, that worse which is ! Woman, if she win the da Woman will the tyrant While in power she breeches ! lav, play,- THE PARSON AND THE QUAKER. A JOLLY'-FACED parson once happened to pop Into Simon Pure's plaiu-dealing every day shop ; To look out a hat that would just fit his nob, But his rev'rence found that a most difficult job. Derry down, &c. He looked and he tried, still laying them down. For he had found none big enough for his crown; At last he squeezed one on, it fitted him pat, " Now," says he, "Mr. -Pure, what's the price of this hat V Derry down, &c. Simon turned round the hat 'fore his cream coloured face, 11 Twelve- and-ninepence !" said he. and a humph filled the space ; 34 COMIC SONGS. Twelve-and-ninepence !" cried black coat, and turned the hat o'er, "By G — , I ne'er gave so much money before i" Derry down, &c. The Quakei cried, " Parson, thou'rt in a bad way, We people ne'er swear but by good yea and nay ; We never make mention of God's holy name." "By G — ," says the parson, " then your're much to blame." Derry down, &c. "Humph!" says the Quaker, "art sure this is true? ^ If thou preachest next Sunday, I'll come near thy pew, And if, as thou'st done, thou wilt swear plain and flat, By good yea and nay, I will give thee the hat!" Derry down &c. The parson agreed and on good Sun- day next His Quakership went just to hear this bad text ; In the aisles vacant centre he took up his place, And stared ".his fat,'reverence full in the face. . Derry down, &c. There he stood like a post, without moving a limb. With his vinegar face, and his hat with broad brim ; For the whole congregation why this was rare fun, For he ne'er stirred a limb till the parson begun ! Derry down, &c. " By God," said the parson, " we live and we move, By God we have feeling, and plea- sure, and love !" The Quaker then hearing him speak it so pat, Cried out — " Then, by G — , I have lost my new hat!" Derry down, &c. THE WATCHMAN'S CHORUS. Recitative, 'TWAS on the spot where St. Giles's pound once stood Thiee watchmen met, one warm midsummer's night, And, e'er they cried the hour o'er the neighbourhood, The patrol bawled this stave with all his might : Air.-^" Fly not yet!" Cry not yet the midnight hour, First let me tell you, mind your power To clear the streets of ev'ry wight Who likes to make a row at night With maids who love the moon. 'Twas but to make such chaps afraid That rattles and watchmen both were made : For this was formed the watchman's calling, Nightly o'er the parish bawling, Past twelve ! Past twelve ! We sha'n't see a night again So fine as this, but oh ! 'tis pain To leave the box so soon. V^st twelve. L&c. Cry not vet — the man who made Runmng races for his trade Slept snug in bed at. noon-day s sun, And then, like shooting star, to run Began when night was near ; So should a watchman tumble snug All day and snooze beneath his rug, Nor waken till the candles, burning. Show the hour on beat for turning. Past twelve ! Past twelve ! When did morning ever break And see such watchmen wide awake Like these now bawling here. Past twelve! &c. At Christmas time you know my lads We shall go boxing for the brads ; It is. a time we all must cherish, For, of all the boxes in the parish, None's like a Christmas box. Then, try the shutters of each shop, Knock sots down and take 'em up ; And, if a rogue is running by, If charged or not, be sure you cry Stop thief! Stop thief ! Spring your rattles, and bawl and swear, So that you, watch, the folks may hear, Though sleeping sound as rocks. Stop thief! &c COMIC SONGS. PRINCESS HELEN. PRINCESS Helen was bom of an eg?. And scarcely ten years had gone by, When Theseus beginning to beg, Decoyed the young chicken to fly : When Tyndarus heard the disaster, He crackled and thundered like vEtna,— So out galloped Pollux and Castor, And caught her a furlong from Gretna, Singing, " rattledum Greek Romanorum, And hey classicality row, Singing, birchery floggery bore'um, And fol de rol whack rowdy dow! The newspapers puffed her each day, Till the princes of Greece came to woo her; Then, coaxing the rest to give way, She took Menelaus unto her. So said they, " though we grieve to resign, Yet if ever you're put to a shift. Let your majesties drop us a line, And we'll all of us lend you a lift, With our rattledum, &x. Menelaus was happy to win ner ; — But she found a cure for this passion, By nobbing or nobbing at dinner With Paris a Trojan of fashion. This chap was a slyish young dog, The most jessmy fellow in life ; For he drank Menelaus's grog, — And then, d — mme, made off with his wife. Singing, rattledum, &c. The princes were sent for, who swore They would punish this finicking boy; So Achilles, and two or three more, Undertook the destruction of Troy. But Achilles grew quite ungenteel, And prevented their stirring a peg, Till Paris let fly at his heel,— And he found himself laid by the leg, With his rattledum, &c. The Grecians demolished the cit3 T , And then, (as the poets have told,) Dame Helen might still be called pretty, Though very near sixty years old. Menelaus, when madam was found, Took her snugly away in his chaise. So Troy being burnt to the ground, Why the story goes off with a blaze. And a rattledum, &c. HONOUR, AMONG THIEVES. TO his sons, cried old Gripe, " be my last words obeyed, 'Ere I'm given to the grim under- taker : Thou wert, Timothy, bred a miller by trade, Tom's a farmer, and Robert's a baker. Do you three, bound in one, like the bundle of sticks, Though various the fortunes you weather, Take my blessing, and swear, lads, whatever your tricks, To death that you'll all hang toge- ther." Possessed of the granary, the oven, and the mill, To profit of this manumission, They vowed to obey their dear father's last will, And to cherish his kind admonition. Good man, he had taught them that prudence was gold, That no one should lavish a feather, That conscience bought thousands when once it was sold, And that brothers should still hang together, Thus Tim, Tom, and Bob on Remorse shut the door, The baker to trade paid attention, The miller kept grinding the face of the poor, The farmer sowed wheat and dis- sension ; Each shut up his heart as he shut up his purse, Both made of good strong stretching leather, Their large fortunes were branded with every men's curse, Who wished they were all hanged together. And thus they went en in the good common cause, 36 COMIC SONGS. In each other still placing reliance, To good fellowship, feeling, religion, and laws, Firm and manfully bidding de- fiance. But perjury never was one of their crimes, For, to prove that they outwent their tether, On a gibbet, by way of a touch on the times, Though they're dead, yet they all hang together. THE DEVIL AND HACKNEY COACHMAN. BEN was a hackney coachman rare, ■ Jarvey, Jarvey : — Here I am j your honour, Crikeys ! how he used to swear — Tomarroo. How he'd swear, and he'd drive ; Number three hundred and sixty five, iium turn tiddle liddle, hey gee wo. Now Ben he was one of that kind, Jarvey, &c. Who, for the future, never mind, Tomarroo. One day he kept his horses smarting, nd never once thought on Mr. Martin. Rum turn, &c. Just then a gemman did approach, Jarvey, &c. All dress'd in black, he call d his coach 'I Tomarroo. And, as I've heard old Benney tell, 1J is -mouth breathed forth a sulph'- rous smell, Rum turn, &c. He had a bag in his left claw, Jarvey, &c. To shew that he was of the law ; Tomarroo. But though he spoke so mighty civil, Ben very well knew that he wa the devil Rum turn, &c. Now the devil jump'd in the jcoach all alive Jarvey, Sic. Pray, your honour, where shall I drive, Tomarroo, The devil, who wanted to cut a swell, Says unto Ben — O, drive to — Rum turn, &:c. i Come tell me now what is your fare ; Jarvey, &c. Just twenty pounds to drive you there. Tomarroo. The devil he paid it with a grin, For he thought he'd taken poor Ben in. Rum turn, cvc. Then off the horses flew pell-mell. Jarvey, 5:c. Nor stopp'd till they came to the gates of — Tomarroo. Ben wouldn't go first in the gulph of sin, So he turn'd, and back'd the devil in. Rum turn, cvc. Now Ben jump'd up home to return, Jarvey, &c. If you don't come back your coach I'll burn. Tomarroo. My coach and horses may go to pot, 'Cause they're insur'd, but 1 am not. Rum turn, &c. Now Ben he drove away quite fast, Jarvey, &c. Until he reached his home at last. Tomarroo. Now Ben's grown rich he never swears, And so for the devil he never cares. Rum turn, &c. DICKY DOLUS AND HIS WIFE. DICKY Dolus sick of strife, Thus addressed his scolding wife- " Since in life I've no repose, Death, my dear, shall end my woes! Mrs. Dolus, Mrs. Dolus! Death, I vow, shall end my woes!" Mrs. ! olus liked his plan. To the river off they ran " Pray" said Dolus, " be so kind Just to tie 1113- hands behind." Mrs. Dolus, &c. She obeyed ; and when complete, " Let me now" he said " entreat You will also — do not sroi.i — Be so good as push me off. " Mrs. Dolus, cVc. COMIC SONGS. 37 Dolus, when she proved her love With a run and with a shove, Slip'd aside, and, in his stead, Mrs. D, soused over head. Mrs. Dolus, &c. Mrs. Dolus now was solus, "While she gulp'd her wat'ry bolus, Quoth he " my hands are tied, and I Can't assist you ; so good bye." Mrs. Dolus, &c. THE TAILOR'S CABBAGE. A TAILOR who cabbaged, as tailors will do, Hot an inch from an ell but a yard out of two ; Soho, boy, fair and softly ! Awaking one night in a terrible fright, Felt conscience's oozings down his face trickle, Lest his cabbage should turn out a terrible pickle ; For he dreamed such a dream, as he ne'er dreamed before ; And he vowed and protested ' he'd cabbage no more :' But his wife, with a hint, begged his mind to refresh, ■ What's bred in the bone wo'n't come out of the flesh.' And soho, boy, &c. He dreamt that he saw a great patch- work unroll From the skies, made of peices of cabbage he'd stole|; Soho, boy, fair and softly ! It reached to the ground, Broad as long I'll be bound, And was made ol all colours art ever invented ; So, conscience struck, thus to his dear he lamented, " I'll no more be a sinner, and cab- bage," cried he, ** For fear that Old Nick in the end cabbage me." But his wife, with a hint, &c. " Whenever, wife, going to cabbage am I, Of my dream to remind me, be sure that you cry Soho, boy, fair and softly ! She thus, as we hear, kept him honest a year ; Nay, some folks say two, but at won- ders they're spelling, As we all know that stories lose no- thing by telling; Of his courage Snip bragged, for temp- tation was strong, While his wife replied, with the fag end of a song. 'By the way, with a hint, &c. Of his honesty Snip to all boasted with pride, While in his sleeve, laughing, old Beelzebub cried, " Soho, boy, fair and softly !" At length a beau goes, with cloth for new clothes, " Such a texture and colour I ne'er saw," so nimble, Cried Snip, for, egad, he'd his eye on the thimble ; Old Nick whispered, " cabbage!'* Snip answered, " I'll show How boldly I'll baffle temptation.— heigho !" While his wife, with a hint, &c. Snip cut and contrived, and severe was the strife, Between nature and conscience, Old Nick and his wife; Soho, boys, fair and softly ! Your dream, Snip, said she; — Ire member, cried he, The patchwork I saw, though no doubt meant a warner, To make it square, wanted a yard at one corner, Then this colour I through the whole piece couldn't meet it, So I must and I will have a yard to complete it; Says his wife, " wa'n't I right, Snip, your mind to refresh, What's bred in the bone wo'n't come out of the flesh." A PLAYING WE WILL GO. BILLY Shakespeare told us, long ago, From infancy to age, That all mankind were players, And that all the world's a stage. And a playing we will go, &c A scolding wife plays hell on earth, And storms, and rants, and teazes ; But a sweet-tempered wife will play Which part her husband pleases. And a playing, &C 38 COMIC SONGS. Some people will in earnest pla3 r , Whilst others play in jest, Some few will play a double part, But fair play's always best. And a playing, &c. The heedless man, who goes to law, Oft plays with an edged tool. For, while the lawyer plays the knave, His client plays the fool. And a playing, &c. Young soldier's play the hero's part, And talk of d d hard duty, Old statesmen boast economy, But all the while play booty. And a playing, &c. The wife will sometimes play the truant, The husband play the scrub ; The scrub will play the gentleman, And the gentleman the scrub. And a playing, &c. Good Lord ! how folks mistake their parts By taking that for this, For little miss will play mamma And fat mamma play miss. And a playing, &x. The prude will play the hypocrite, The wanton the coquette ; Old maids will play the solo part, Brisk widows a duet. And a playing, &c. The fribble plays the monkey's part. While, full ot roar and revel, The bucks, the bloods, and jolly dogs, Will play the very devil. And a playing, &c. The borrower often plays to lose, The lender plays too light, . I'he creditor would tain play sure, The debtor least in sight. And a playing, &c But, "when these trifling scenes are past, And life's last act is o er„ Then Death will let the curtain drop, And we shall play no more. No more a playing, &c. Then, who played cobler, who played king ? Will not be then the .lest ;— The only question that will be — Who played his part the bes^ ? No more a playing, &c. LARRY THE PADDINGTON COACHMAN. I SUPPOSE you all know at the bads ot the Bank, Where the Paddington stages all stand in a rank, A spruce looking fellow— one Larry O'Flank, By profession a Paddington Coach- man. A chap of whom nobody never com- plains ; Of his coach and his horses he took so much pains ; As clever a lad as e'er handled the reins, Was Larry, the Paddington Coach- man. Le was thought rather ugly by most ot the cads Who attend with such pride on the Paddington lads ; But he knew well his duty — took care ot his prads, Did Larry, the Paddington Coach- man. Such pleasure he took in the cut of his clothes, Tho' his legs they were form'd like a couple of bows, And charming grog-blossoms adorn'd the red nose Of Larry, the Paddington Coach- man. To race with his coach, why he never would try it ; 'Twas the new " Regulator," and who can deny it 1 For 'twas said ev'ry coach on the road would go by it, When drove by the Paddington Coachman; So for Byers and Johnson, he cared not a crack, He was never " pull'd up," sir de- pend on the fact, So the areat Mr. Martin's new Cruelty Act, All my eye was to Larry the Coach- man.' But Larry had something about him to please. The good-looking widow who lived at the " Fleece," COMIC SONGS. 39 Tho' she was as fat as a firkin of grease, Yet she ogled the PaddingtonCoach- man. So he thought it a chance that he would not let slip, And says he, " 'twill be better than handling the whip, " To sit down in the bar and be ma- king egg-flip " For the rest of the Paddington Coachmen." Then Larry, the match to conclusion to draw, Said she was the fairest his eyes ever saw, When she dropp'd her huge hand, like an elephant's paw, Into that of the Paddington Coach- man ; Then Larry gave orders for wine and for cake — Invited his friends of the same to par- take — ♦ " I'm as right as a trivet — and no mistake," Cries Larry, the Paddington Coach- man. But love must'nt always be reckoned a treat ; And wedlock possesses both sour and sweet; But I hope none of 3'ou such misfor- tune mav meet, As befel the poor Paddington Coachman. For it happen'd (as sometimes you know is the case,) A gentleman's servant who'd left his place, CQuite a swell) but as black as the de- vil's own face, Came to lodge with the Paddington Coachman. Things went on very well — but in less than a year. Poor Mrs. O'Flank felt herself rather queer; When a Doctor was sent for — who living quite near, Soon attended the Wife of the Coach- man. But he had not been long in poor Lar- ry's employ, When the nurse, running down, cried — I wish you much joy " For mistress has brought you 1 beautiful boy ;" What a treat for the Paddington Coachman. When this news had arrived, in the tap room had met, Of Larry's acquaintance, a fuddling set; As a treat — a good gallon of strong *' heavy wet," Was sent in by the Paddington Coachman. When the nurse came again, and says she, " 'Pon my soul ! " I forgot in the bustle to tell you the whole, " But the dear little creature s — as black as a coal. " Blood & ounds!" says the Pad- dington Coachman. When matters were settled, and things put to right, It appeared the Black Footman had bother'd her quite ; And she said she could not keep him out of her sight — " That may do," says the Padding- ton Coachman. " But landlords, in future, take care what 3 r ou're at, " Don't let lodgers and wives get too much in chat, " Or your children may all be as black as my hat, " Like mine," says the Paddington Coachman.' CUPID IS A ROGUISH BOY SICKLY dotage to restrain, Let the barber breathe a vein ; Or, if age would mimic youth, Quickly pluck out the colt's tooth. Cupid is a roguish boy, Full of play and full of joy, Courting pleasure in its prime, Laughing at old bald pate Time. Age has silvered thy crown, On thy brow mixed gray and brown , Hope not then from sprightly youth Consistency and spotless truth. Cupid is a roguish boy, &c. Doctors learn the bounds of arr, Seek not what no drugs impart ; How old age your nerves unstrung, Physic cannot make you young. Cupid is a roguish boy s 40 COMIC SONGS. *+***+*»•*+*+*+*+*»*+*»#»< DUET. Phillipa. No, Signor Willibald, Pray mark my word When a lady's insulted * Willibald. I know she'll be heard — Phillipa. You, Signor Willibald, Shall find to your cost, That I've a defender — Willibald. Oh dear, 1 am lost — Poison, still etoes, I tremble 1 own, But I trust that stilletoes Still let me alone — Phtllipa. Then endeavour in future With grace to behave, Willibald. Yes, sweetest Phillipa Your pardon I crave Yes, pretty Phillipa Shall see 1 will mend, [Phillipa giving her hand.] Phillipa. Salute this and swear now You'll ne'er more offend. Both. With dance and forgiveness, Chace anger away — Fal, lal, lal, lal, delral, Fal la, lal, lal la— THE SNATCH-MAN, CATCH- t MAN, PATCH-MAN, AND WATCH-MAN. AlR. — Merrily danced the Quaker's Wife. IN Dyot-street there liv'd a maid, A shrew, who oft would scratch man ; She'd four sweethearts, at least so 'tis said, And surely that was a batch, man. The first was Dan Trap, ot Marlboro'- street, An officer paid to catch man ; The next, a bailiff, none lov'd to meet, He so much was addicted to snatch man. Ri tol, lol lol, &c. The third was a buck, great pains *■" who took, His face with rouge to patch, man : But the last, who seem'd to have all the luck, Was an Irish St. Giles's watchman. The officer swore he would take her up. Quoth the Bailiff, her body Til snatchy man, Cried the buck, she this evening with me shall sup, She shall find me awake, said the watchman. Ri tol, lol lol, &c. The bailiff to get the buck out of the way, With a writ did his carcase dis- patch, man ; And the officer for an assault that day, With a warrant the bailiff did catch man. There's two lock'd up, cried Dar Trap, all's right, And finding .her door on the latch, man, He began to make love to the maid by lamp light, But just by, in his box, was the watchman. Ri tol, lol lol, &c. Walk on, walk on, there, the watch- man cried , Or soon you will meet with your match, man. I sha'n't walk on, Dan Trap replied : Then I take you in charge, says the watchman. •* He lock'd Dan up, then in charge took the maid, But she soon turn'd up no catch, man, A brimstone she prov'd, so buck, bai- liff, 'tis said, Beaksman, watchman, all met with their match, man. Ri tol, lol lol, &c. THE COSMETIC DOCTOR. BELIEVE me, believe me, in coun- try or town, No cosmetic, no Qosmetic, but mine would go down ; Both young ones and old ones would flock at my call, And for pimples and wrinkles they purchased it all. The sweet creatures would cry Your art, sir, I'll try, For a freckle I spy Just below my left eye COMIC SONGS. 41 To the face pale and wan I gave the blush of the rose, And plac'd on the cheeK what I found on the nose. Some smirking, some jerking, Some crummy, some gummy, Eyes askew, noses blue, Sallow cheek, made so sleek, 'Boveall commendation my trade is: Smiling face, prate a-pace, Tell the news, all amuse, Aim to show what's the go; That's the way now a-day, To shine as the man for the ladies. To tell where I've been, Or what fair ones I've seen, 1 n places where 1 my abode took, I'm sure it would lill A chancery bill, Or as long be as Pattison's road- book. First at Acton and Ealing, Their faces I'm peeling; At Ilchester and Doioiester, At Chichester and Porrhester, At Woolwich and Highgate, And Dulwich and Ryegate, At Beckington and'Oaking- ham, And Buckingham and Rock- ingham, At Brummagem, I rummage 'em, At Deptford and Hampton, And Bedford and Bampton, At Harlow and Charmouth, And Mario w and Yarmouth, At Dartford and Darking, And Harford and Barking, At Wor'ster and Chester, And Glo'ster and Leicester, At Teddington and Amer- sham, And Holyhead and River- head. At Maidenhead and Leather- head. In chaise and four I've rattled off to Daventry, And many is the time I have been .sent to Coventry. To this list let me add, and the vanity pardon, I've made nv«ny a fair one smile in famous Covent Garden. Where some are smirking, some jerking, Some crummy, some gummy, Eyes askew, noses blue. Sallow cheek made so sleek, 'Boveall commendation my trade is; Smiling face, prate a-pace, Tell the news, all amuse, Aim to show, What's the go— That's the way, now a-day, To shine as the man for the la- dies. GIVE ISAAC THE NYMPH, ? GIVE Isaac the nymph who no beauty can boast. But health and good humour to make her his toast; If strait, I don't mind whether slem der or fat, And six feet or four, we'll ne'ei quarrel for that. Whate'er her complexion, I vow I don't care, If brown, it is lasting, more pleas- ing if fair ; And tho' in her face I no dimples should see, Let her smile, and each dell is a dimple to me. Let her locks be the reddest that ever were seen, And her eyes may be e'en any co- lour but green ; Be they light, grey, or black, their lustre and hue, I swear I've no choice, only let her have two. 'Tis true I'd dispense with a throne on her back, And white teeth I own, are genteeler . than black ; A little round chin 'twas a beauty I ve heard, But I only desire she may'nt have a beard. SHAVE WELL AND SHAVE ALL. THO* a barber I am not asham'd of my trade, For by shaving a fortune is easily made ; „ „ E3 42 COMIC SONGS. From the Prince on the throne to the cobler in stall, The principal point's to shave well, and shave all. My wife, like all women, is given to scold, I'd fain contradict her, could I be so bold ; But when she sets in both to wran- gle and brawl, I take up my bason, and bid her shave all. A taylor being but the ninth part of a man, Has long been recorded, deny it who can : Tho' that is less manhood than tongue can express, Yet I'll make it appear that a barber has less. At Chelsea not long since a shop- keeper died. Who left store of gold to his over- joy'd bride ; And according to custom, as doubt- less you've heard, They sent for a barber to shave off his beard. Before his arrival they sent up the maid, To stay with the body— a jolly brisk jade ; She inclining for sport, crept under the bed, On the sacking of which her late master lay dead. Puff he entered the room with abun- dance of fear, But little he thought that the girl was so near ; With trembling and shaking he la- ther'd the face, "Twould made you have laugh'd, had you seen his sad case. As soon as poor Puff took his razor in hand, She heav'd up the body, with a gasp made him stand ! Puff stood like a post, he'd no power to run, Till she heav'd it again, as at first she had done. When she heav'd it again, Puff thought that it grumbled, And with the best sped he down all the sUirs tumbled \ ' Oh, what is the matter ?' demanded the wife ; * Why, your husband— your hus- band's again come to life !' * Again come to life— God forbid it ! she said ; ' I'd not for the v*orld but my hus- band be dead ;' So she hurried up stairs as fast as she could, Where she found the corpse cold, and ail thing as they should. They then sent for the barber to come up again, Who with great intercession return'd tho' in pain ; So he hnish'd his work, while they staid in the room, But to do such another job swore he'd ne'er come. The maid told the neighbours the tricks she had play'd, And hew the poor barber was by her dismay 'd. All but barbers now jeer him, who cannot him blame, Because they declare, 'twould have scar'd them the same. THE DANDY, O '. WHEN I was a boy, and a pretty little boy, With a little curly head of hair, so sandy, O ! All the neighbours used to cry, what a funny rogue was I, And they call me the pretty little dandy, O. But as older I grew, and something better knew, Than sucking lollipops and sugar candy, O ! Lord, I pleas'd them night and day, and the damsels used to say, Oh, the pretty little fellow is the dandy, O. But soon I got a wife, for the com- fort of my life, With a little pretty taper waist, so handy, O ! And soon I got a lad, just the image of his dad, And they christened him the pretty little dandy, O. COMIC SONGS. 43 Now spousy day and night, oh ! she calls me her delight, Her sugar-sop and sweet Tristram Shandy, O! And when in bed am I, why we both sing lullaby, " [And she calls me her pretty little dandy O. LEVI LYON. MY name's Levi Lyon, a good na- tured Jew, Fal de ial, &c. But I know what is vat and I prac- tish it too j Peeples tink I am poor, and it suits with my plan, And tho' call'd a great rogue, I'm a very good man. Fal de ral de raddy, &c. In de house, in de field, in de shop, in de street, I always makes monish of all vat I meet. I can change, I can sell, I can buy, I can lend, For as I'm a good man, I've a very good friend. I'm call'd a great fool by de resht of the Jews, 'Cause I come to shell puckles where the folksh wear no shoes ; But dish is my plan dat I means to pursue, Pay my price for de buckle (dere) I'll find you de shoe. I've nice Birmingham pistols as man can desire, I can part vid them cheap — but I can't make them fire ; Once out of my handsh, and for rae dat's enough, If my goodsh do but sell, I can shwear dey go off. If I find in this country my busi- nesh to thrive, I don't know but I might specu late in a vife ; Vether black, vite, ortawney, I shall not be nice, But if she wants a good man, she must give a good price. THE BACHELOR'S FARE. A BACHELOR leads an easy life, Few folks that are wed live bet- ter; A man may live well with a very good wife, But the puzzle is how to get her. There are pretty good wives, and pretty bad wives, And wives neither one thing nor t'other ; And as for the wives who scold all their lives, I'd sooner wed Adam's grandmo- ther. Then ladies and gents, if to mar- riage inclin'd, May deceit and ill humour ne'er trap ye ; May those that are single get wives to their mind, And those that are married, live happy. Some chuse their ladies for ease, or for grace, Or a pretty turn'd foot as they're walking \ Some chuse tor figure, and some for face, But very few chuse 'em for talk ing. Now, as for the wife I would follow thro' life, 'Tis she who can speak sincerely, Who, not over-nice, can give good advice, And love a good husband dearly. So ladies and gents, when to wed lock inclin'd. May deceit nor ill humour e'er trap ye ; May those that are single find wives to their mind, And may those who are marrie be happy. CUPID'S LOTTERY. As Cupid one day, full of frolic and play, Lay musing on conjugal life, The god, it is said, took it into his head, That luck, good or bad, is a wife. So for dear woman's sake, doe* 4 lottery make, Andjabels each ticket a law, 44 COMIC SONGS. Then turning Ins wheel, their pulses to feel, Cry'd ' Bachelors, come, come and draw. Ten thousand strange hands for the conjugal bands, Were instantly popp'd in the wheel ; And soon, at their lot, some smil'd, and some not, Then presently turn'd on their heel. While Cupid, sly elf. quite pleas'd with himself, Enjoy'd the confusion he saw : And the wheel turning round, with an audible sound, Cry'd ' Bachelors, come, come and draw.' Now, Fortune, thought I, my luck I will try, And soon to the wheel did ad- vance ; I drew, and my eyes saw a capital prize — Good temper was wrote on the chance. Yes, yes, and for life, with a kind loving wife, I hold the best maxim and law, Is Hymen's soft bands, when we join hearts and hands, 80, 4 Bachelors, come, come and draw.' THE BEGGAR. A BEGGAR I am, and of low de- gree, For I'm come of a begging family; I'm lame, but when in a fighting bout, I whip off my leg and I fight it out. In running I leave the beadle behind And a lass I can see, tho' alas ! I'm blind ; Thro' town and village I gaily jog, My music, the bell of my little dog. I'm clothed in rags, I'm hung with bags, That round me wags ; I've a bag for my salt, A bag for my malt, A bag for the leg of a goose, For my oats a bag, For my groats a bag, And a bottle to hold my boose. It's now Heaven bless you for your charity, And then push the can about, fo\ de rol de ree. In begging a farthing I'm poor and old, In spending a noble I'm stout and bold; When a brave full company I see, It's " my noble masters your cha- rity !"— But when a traveller T meet alone, " Stand and deliver, or I'll knock you down!" All day for a wandering mumper I pass. All night— oh ! a barn, and buxom lass. I'm clothed in rags, &c. CAPTAIN MAGAN. O, THE face of brave Captain Magan Was as broad as a big frying-pan, Just over his snout one eye was snufft out, But the other burnt bright upon Nan, sweet Nan, But the other burnt bright upou Nan. I've no beauty, sighed Captain Magan, But manners it is makes the man ; And tho' my long nose should hang over my toes, Would you like me the worse for it Nan, sweet Nan, . Would you like me the worse for it Nan? Nan leer'd upon Captain Magan, His face was the colour of tan. But the Captain she saw had a.je r.e scat guoi, So he conquer'd the heart of sweet Nan, sweet Nan, O, long life to brave Captain Ma- THE FLITCH OF BACON. THE spruce Mr. Clark Was a young Essex spark, A farmer uxorious and rich; He lov'd dearly, as his life, Fried bacon, and his wife ; And, says he, ' My duck, we'll claim the flitch.' COMIC SONGS. 45 Mrs. Clark ('twas in bed) Lov'd bacon, she said, But she vow'd she'd no more see it spoil'd ; Crying, ' Clark, you're quite mistaken, If you thinks to fry that bacon, 1 insists that every bit shall be boil'd.' Mr. Clark, tho' 'twas night, Jump'd in bed bolt upright, Quite enrag'd at his rib, by his side ; And, says he, ' Now, madam, mark ! Tho' I love 3 t ou, Mrs. Clark, I'll be d— d if it sha'nt ail be fried. The dispute ran so high, 'Twixt a boil and a fry, That Clark, though he argued it roundly, Put an end to all turmoiling, As to frying or to boiling. By basting Mrs. Clark very soundly. These turtles, no doubt, Very soon found out That their claim to the flitch must be shaken : They had children blythe as larks, But all the little Clarks Were mark'd with a rasher of ba- con ! HOBS' JOURNEY TO LONDON, Tune — Geho, Dobbin, COME, Roger, and listen to where I have been; Izfc tell thee what wonderful zights I have zeen, Such places for pastime, as now bear renown. In that famous zity call'd fair Lon- don town. O, brave London ! O, sweet Lon- don ! In that famous city, call'd fair London town. Tune— John and Betty. Fiist, you mun know, That we did go Into the zity ; And zaw, not far From Temple-bar, The wax-work pretty. Tune.— 1 made love to KaU* Then they carried me, To church built by St. Paul ; Tho' thousands I did zee, 'Twas bigger than 'em all. And up the winding stairs, Amaz'd, we did ascend ; So many, wounds ! I thought We ne'er should zee an end. But how we gap'd and star'd. When to the top we came ! Had you been in my place, Why, you'd have done the same. Tune. — Tom loves Mary. To Guildhall next we did repair, That we might view the giants ; They told me they stood always there, To bid the French defiance : That when they heard the clock strike one. They would come down and greet me ; I'cod I did not like such vun, I was afraid they'd eat me. Tune— Stick a pin there. And then to the Tower away we alt stroll'd, The lions, the armour, and crown to behold , When the showman, at last, bid the lasses so fair, In old Harry's pincushion stick a pin there. Tune— My fond shepherds of late. Back to Westminster Abbey we stray'd, Where are zeen all the kings, queens, and tombs ; But 1 never saw zince I was made, Such a number of deadly high rooms. Then the organs play'd up too so fine ! What the boys sung I understood not : But the people in chorus did join, That in Heaven I thought I was got. Tune— The Attic fire. At play-house, too. T did admire A nian who walk'tt upon a wire* 46 COMIC SONGS. As tho'f it was the ground : And then the zails of our mill, When mov'd, compar'd with him, stand still, So fast he did turn round. Tune— Kitty Fell, But now the time, alas ! was come, When 1 must think of going home, Ah, me ! unhappy clown ; I dreamt of what Id zee.n all night, And early, by the morning light, I left dear London town. Charming London ! happy London, Adieu, dear London, London town. THE FASHIONABLE LADY. A'NT I the pink of the ball, All over muslin so workitied, With my dashing Egyptian shawl, And turban so prettily Turkified? To Brighton I'll now take a stride, In spite of invasion, and Bony, O ; And there on a neddy I'll ride, Umph! I mean a Jerusalem po- ney, O. Ri, fol lol, de rol,&c. You'll own that my style's pretty high, So transparent my dress, you can see thro' it ! The ladies all wear such, and cry, 4 O curse you. no, don't look at me thro' it !' I wonder what ladies can mean, Who in dress so transparent their bodies tie : 1 blush like a maid of fifteen, To see 'em, it quite shocks my modesty. Ri, fol lol, &c. I'll run with your fine beaux and belles, Wherever of ton's to be caught a piece ; To the play, and to Sadler's Wells, Where all the world goes to the water- piece ; Where Harlequin trips up and down And Columbine shews all her graces, O, And little Grimaldi, the clown, He makes such queer comical faces, O. Hi, fol lol, &c. MRS. RUNNINGTON'S WIG. MISTRESS Runnington wore a wig, Contrived to peep at a man, And every feature to twig. As commode as the sticks of a fan For the book of her labour and cares, Now drew pretty near the last page ; And this wig had a few grizly hairs, That escap'd from the avarice of age. Mister Doddington Oh, a nice man. Rather old, and a little a prig. Fell in ecstacy, stark staring mad, With sweet Mistiess Runnington's wig. Mr. Doddington wore a wig, To hide his poor head so crazy ; 'Twas neither too little nor big, Nor so much a wig as a jasey ; But he wheezed pretty much with a cough, And, being long since past his prime, He looked, when the jasey was off. Exactly the figure of Time. Mrs. Runnington fell in the snare, Thus laid by this amorous sprig ; Believing 'twas natural hair. As he did Mistress Runnington's wig. He kissed her, the bargain to strike, For they both had agreed on the match, When the wire-work of her vandyke Caught the buckle that fastened his scratch. In vain they both struggled and grinned, 'Twas useless to labour and pull, Their nappers as tightly were pinned, Asa dog at the nose of a bull. At length, both the fabrics crazy, By a resolute effort, and big, Down fell Mr. Doddington's jasey, And poor Mrs. Runnington's wig. Now, as bald as my hand, or two cootes, They stood petrified at the disas- ter : But it soon finished all their dis- putes, And tied their affection the faster. COMIC SONGS. 47 Each admiring the other's good sense, Made the best of their dismal mis- carriage : And alleged in their mutual defence Secrets ne'er should be kept before marriage. Though they look'd like two mon- kies run crazy, While they laugh'd at the frolick- some rig, She restored Mr. Doddington's ja- sey, And he Mrs. Runnington's wig. THE CHANDLER'S SHOP. THEY call me smirking Bobby, With the women I'm a hobby, Which 3 t ou will find as I go on ; My business to reveal, sir, In chandler}' I deal, sir, Cramming fifty trades in one. You've heard of politicians, With their meetings and petitions, Whose tongues the deuce can't stop, But take 'em great and small, sir, I'll produce the best of all, sir, Tho' in a chandler's shop. Spoken. — Mr. What's-your-name, I want a twopenny loaf. — Have you heard the news ? Five thousand kill'd they say.— Weigh me a quar- tern of cheese. What's the Emperor of Russia about, I wonder. — A ha'p'orth of tobacco. — (Another voice) — Well, let things go as they will, we'll be masters of the sea. — Draw me half a pint of small beer. So my customers I please, sir, With politics and cheese, sir, While I gaily serve them out. My customers are various, And my dealings multifarious, Ev'ry article and hue ; Red herring without lack, sir, Whitening, coals, and iv'ry black, Yellozv soap, and powder blue ; Anchovies, scrubbing brushes, Candles made of rushes, Mustard, and perfume, And mops to clean the door, sir — While some they run a score, sir, And then they hey a broom. 0- *+■*-+ • + ** + *■ Spoken. — Why, wife, we shall be ruined ! — My book is full I declare ! — Won't do to give such large credit — Let me see, here's a penn'orth of needles, and three ha'p'orth of pickled cabbage to the tailor, a red herring to the soldier, two penn'orth of starch to the quaker, and a penn'orth of fuller's earth to the lawyer — (that was to take the stains out of his conscience I suppose.) But tho' some debts are owing, Still I keep my trade a-going, While I gaily serve them out. For butter, eggs, and bacon, Their money while I'm taking, I please them with small talk- Pepper, salt, and cabbage pickle, Farthing rods the rump to tickle, Starch, vinegar, and chalk. The servant maids so pretty, Do all pronounce rne witty. I please them well enough ; Old women to all praise me, Tho' their gossiping delays me When they come to buy their snuff. Spoke?i. — What for you, Mrs. Thingummy ? — A rushlight, if 3'ou please, — How's your husband, ma'am ?— Very bad ; he won't live the night over, I'm afraid. — Who minds his business now ? — John, our apprentice ; he's very clever at my husband's business. — Ah, Betty ! — What for you Betty ? — A bunch of matches. — I heard you was going to be married, Betty ? — Psha! hold your foolish nonsense do, — Is Molly ifone away ? — Yes. — very odd isn't it. — Yes ; there's something my stems in it ; but it will all come out in time. So we knock about the scandal. Bread and cheese, and farthing candle, While I gaily serve them out. MISS DEBORAH DIDDLE & SIR GILBERT GO-SO FTLY. YOU may talk of sweet passion, and wishing, and wooing, With ecstacies, blushes and darts ; Of altars, and turtles, and billing, and cooing, Flaming torches, and fond bleed- ing hearts; 48 COMIC SONGS. But the truest of loviers that ever were seen, In city or town, great or small, Were Miss Deborah Diddle, of Daisymead Green. And Sir Gilbert Go-softly, of Gooseberry Hall. The virgin was fifty, her head very taper, Her mouth large, and nose rather flat; Her complexion as blooming as xvhity-broxon paper ; She'd but one eye, and she squint- ed with that ; For an excellent rib she was form'd too I ween, Since terribly crooked withal, Was Miss Deborah Diddle of Dai- symead Green, For Sir Gilbert Go-softly of Gooseberry Hall. The knight once a sad race had run, when in clover, But this running had come to a dreg, For now he was poor, and had sixty got over, Besides that, he had but one leg : But titled was he, and she rich as a queen, These in love with each other made fall. Sweet Miss Deborah, &c. The knight caught a fever in toast- ing her merits, Took physic, and that made him die ; When the grief of the fair so con- sum' d all her spirits, She went off—with a drop in her eye; And such fond consent love from oblivion to screen, From the grave sprung a tomb- stone so tall, Of Miss Deborah, &c. WHEN OUR MAYOR. WHEN our Mayor, Lord bless him, whose former delight, Was to make a day's work of being ooozy at night J Is forc'd now e'er noon his full quan- tum to sip, Lest any thing fall — 'twixt the cup and the lip. Beware of a tip. Lest any thing fall, &c. In a vis-a-vis Bridget surprises the town, Who lately in pattens could trudge up and down : But 'twas prudent in her to lay pat- tens aside, When she found by experience she's subject to slide. Oh, fie on her guide ! She found by experience, &c. Your patriot, whose feelings are wond'rous nice, And refuses each place — that his un- der his price ; Finds his delicate conscience most ready to slip, When the pensions escape 'twixt the cup and the lip. Oh it gives them the slip, When the pensions, Sec. The youth who has charm'd all the clubs with debate, And to shine in the Senate spends all his estate; Soon finds from his speeches no pro- duce will come, And the first o^ all speakers turns Orator Mum ! Yes 'twas all a hum. For the first of all, &c. Here am I too, who studied the comforts of life, Having earn'd a snug farm, would possess a snug wife : But the loss of my fame all my prospects will nip, 'Twas a trine that fell, 'twixt the cup and the lip. Oh, beware of a trip ! Such trifles oft fall, &q CAPTAIN WATTLE AND MISS ROE. DID you ever hear of Captain Wat* tie, He was all for love and a little for the bottle. COMIC SONGS. 49 We know net, though pains we have ta'en to inquire, If gunpowder lie invented, or the Thames set on fire. If to him was the centre of gravity known, The longitude, or the philosopher's stone, Or whether he studied from Bacon or Boyle, Copernicus, Locke, Katerfelto, or Iloyle: But this we have learnt with great labour and pain, That he lov'd Miss Roe, and she lov'd him again. Than sweet Miss Roe none e'er look'd fiercer: She had but one eye, but that was a piercer. We know not, for certainty her edu- cation, If she wrote, mended stockings, or settled the nation ; At cards if she liked whist, and twabbers or voles, Or at dinner lov'd pig, or a steak on the coals, Whether most of the Sappho she was or Thalestris, Or if dancing was taught her by Hopkins, or Vestris ; But, for your satisfaction, this good news we obtain, That she lov'd Captain Wattle, and he lov'd her again. When wedded,, he became lord and master depend on't lie had but one leg, but he'd a foot at the end on't, Which, of government when she would fain hold the bridle, lie took special caution should never lie idle: So, like most married folks, 'twas my plague and my chicken, And sometimes a kissing, and some- times a kicking : Then for comfort a cordial she'd now and then try, Alternately bunging or piping her eye ; And these facts of this couple the histVy contain, For when he kick'd Miss Roe, she kick'd him again. JACK OF ALL TRADES. A GENTLEMAN once I'd a Uv'ti of my own, But my train is all dock'd, and I'm left ail alone, And now, as 1 never had pride, tho* I'd pelf, 1 don't mind becoming a servant myself— At table I can wait, Clean a knife, or change a plate, Quick as thought, when there's com- pany, or gay day : Mount a nag behind my lord, Whene'er he goes abroad, Or dangle at the heels of my lady ; After wine-cellar look, Fatten poultry, garden, cook, A monstrous variety of small trades, Make stews, clean shoes, Friz a wig, kill a pig, Brew, bake, bvoil a steak, Clean house, milk cows, Cheese turn, butter churn, Mend clothes, darn hose, Run of errand, O 1 warrant, You'll find me complete .lack of alL trades. LOONEY'S LAMENTATION. MISS Margery Muggins she was a fair maid. And it happen'd that my simple heart she betray 'd, Lack-a-day, &c. On her all my hopes of happiness hung, But she was quite spirited though she was young, And I was afraid of her nails and her tongue. Lavk-a-day, &c. Says she, ' Looney, a gay great de- ceiver are you, I'm told, and I think that you look like one too.' Lack-a-day, &c. ' O, you fiatter,' says 1, and so then with an air, I ask'd for her hand, when the maid I declare, She gave me her foot, but I mus'n't say where. Lack-a-day, &c. 50 COMIC SONGS. Says I, ' Miss, O fie ! my petition pray grant,' Like a time bashful virgin she an- swer'd, ' I shan't.' Lack-a-day, &c. And up went her fist, when I found by the bye. Miss Muggins drank oft'ner than she was dry ; She'd been mugging herself, so she bung'd up my eye ! Lack-a-day, &c. So I made her a bow, and I bid her good day, And now I am left to lament and to say, Lack-a-day, &c. Ye young loviers all now be warn'd by my song, And young par gins your sweethearts who wish to keep long, Remember and don't mix your liquor too strong. Lack-a-day, &c. THE SKITTLE CLUB. NOW for mirth and recreation, Each quits his occupation, And leaves the shop at home, Gets a hasty snap of victuals, Then to join the club at skittles, From every part they come ; Butcher, Barber, and Baker, All to the Jamaica* For pleasure bowl along ; Free thinkers, and free drinkers, Captains, Coblers, Clerks, and Tinkers, All join the merry throng. Spoken in different voices. — < ' Ay, here they are, pair'd off like the wild beasts in the ark.' ' Yes, and their voices are almost as various.' ' Choose in, choose in, gentlemen.' ' Clear away the dead wood.' ' Three gone ? ' well here's more a coming, for here's brother Twist will give us a Bermondsey screw. 1 * Why, yes sir, I feel a has that way.' ' Flimsy of the Bank, 'tis your turn to go.' — * What's the state of the game ?' — * Why two ties, but three loses.' — ' That's what I call the 3 per Cents reduced.' ' Sink the shop,' ' With all my heart, and then we should wipe off the National Debt.' ' That may be wit, but we must not meddle with politics, eh Mr. Secretary ?'— - 4 No, but we allow chaffing, for one of our articles expressly says, we meet here to Hear a little bother, And laugh at one another. And to pass the time away. Thus begins the noise and fun sir, The joke and the pun, sir, And the wit it flies about ; But then to mend the matter, In the midst of all the chatter, The porter's all drank out : Then there's bets upon the boozers The winners and the losers, And quizzing's all the go ; So thev banish care and trouble, And they try to tip the double, Ev'ry time they throw. Spoken. — * Clear a passage for the mud pilot, and he'll carry the middle pin like a spare topmast. ' Did you hear any thing knock T * Yes, that was a heavy /«// of timber.'' 'Why so hard gemmen ? he's got among the straits J * Och! dirty water upon you seamen, how fond you are of rigging.'' ' Now let's give the tinker a turn, for I think he carries too much metal for us.' ' Score 'em, score 'em, Mr. Secretary, and let's have no more chaffing.- ' Why, sir that's always allowed in this hei Society, foi one of our articles ex pressly says, that we meet here to Hear a little bother, And laugh at one another, And pass the time away. But when 'tis getting late sir, They crowd round the slate sir, Each pushing up to pay : Take three pints here oz a Roman, Because I want to go man, I can no longer stay : — Well, damme, now that's pretty, I'm one of the Committee, So take my money first : — Then pray let me be second, For a gallon man I'm reckon'd, And my belly sure will burst, Spoken. — ' \ye, you've shipped a rare cargo of heavy wet, and without any drawback. 1 ' That's because he belongs to Pulling 1 s gang. 1 * There's threepence for that are gemman to COMIC SONGS. 51 pay, as a non-subscriber.'' * Why that must be a mistake, for I'm no subscriber at all.' ' Lord, how lamed he does not know nothing of the negative.' ' Call back the tinker, for he's push'd off a bad sixpence.' — * That looks as if he was not out of brass.' ' My eyes, how the Romans have put the Taffy out of temper — I'm afraid he'll not give us a Welsh air.' * Well, never mind, perhaps he'll give us a Welsh rabbit.'' ' Go it, my lads, go it, lots of chaffing ; but one of our articles expressly says, we meet here to Hear a little bother, And laugh at one another, And pass the time away. A MAIDEN THERE LIVED. A maiden there liv'd in a large mar- ket town, Whose skin was much fairer — than any that's brown — Her eyes were as dark as the coals in the mine, And when they wern't shut, why they always would shine. With a black eye, blue eye, blear eye, pig's eye, swivel eye, and squinting. Between her two eyes an excrescence arose, Which the vulgar call snout, but which I call a nose : An emblem of sense, it should seem to appear, For without one we'd look very foolish and queer : With your Roman, Grecian, snub- nose, pug-nose, snuffling suout, and sneezing. Good natur'd she look'd, that's when out of a frown, And blush'd like a rose — when the paint was put on ; At church ev'ry morning her pray- ers she would scan, And each night sigh and think of— the duty of man. With her groaning, moaning, sigh- ing, dying, tabernacle — love- feasts. The follies of youth she had long given o'er, For the virgin I sing of— was turn'd fifty four ; Yet suitors she had, who, with words sweet as honey, Strove hard to possess the bright charms of her money. With her household, leasehold, freehold, and her copyhold and tenement. The first who appear'd on this am'- rous list, Was a Tailor, who swore, by his thimble and twist, That if his strong passion she e'ei should refuse, He'd depart from the world, shop, cabbage, and goose, With his waistcoat, breeches, mea- sures, scissars, buttonholes, and buckram. The next was a Butcher, of slaugh- ter-ox fame, A very great boor, and Dick Hog was his name ; He swere she was lamb — but she laugh'd at his pains, For she hated calfs head— unless serv'd up with brains— With his sheep's head, lamb's fry r , chitterlins — his marrow- bones and clevers. After, many debates which occa- sion'd much strife, 'Mongst love-sick admirers to make her their wife, To end each dispute came a man out of breath, Who elop'd with the maid, and his name was grim Death. m With his pick-axe, sexton" coffin, funeral, skeleton and boue- house. THE JOYS OF THE COUNTRY Let bucks and let bloods to praise London agree. Oh the joys of the country, my jewel, give me ! Where sweet is the flow'r that the May-bush adorns, And how charming to gather it, but for the thorns : Where we walk o'er the mountains, with health our cheeks glowing As warm as atoast, honey, when it en't snoiwng, 52 COMIC SONGS. Where Nature so smiles when she ioyful inclines, Ana the sun charms us all the year round when it shines. Oh the mountains, and valleys, and bushes, The pigs, and the screech-owls, and thrushes. Let bloods and let bucks to praise London agree, Oh the joys of the country, my jewel, for me! There twelve hours on a stretch we in angling delight, As patient as Job, though we ne'er get a bite : There we pop at the wild ducks, and frighten the crows, While so lovely the icicles hang to our clothes. Their wid aunts, and wid cousins, and grandmothers talking We're caught in the rain as we're all out a walking, While the muslins and gauzes cling round each fair she, That they look all like Venuses sprung from the sea. Oh the mountains, &c. Then how sweet in the dog days to take the fresh air, Where to save you expense, the dust powders your hair. Thus pleasures, like snow-balls, in- crease as they roll, And tire you to death — not forget- ting the bowl : Where in mirth and good-fellowship always delighting, We agree, that is, when we're not squabbling and fighting : Den WW. toasts and pint bumpers we bodder the head. Just to see who most gracefully staggers to bed. Oh the mountains, Sec. MISS WIGLEY. MISS Wigley her lovers call'd first of the fair, The pride of her heart, was call'd Deputy Dent ; She admir'd his sound teeth, he her fine head of hair, He talked about marriage — she gave her consent. It happened unluckily, both in a breath, Made a vow, sober, serious, with- out fun or gig ; She never to marry a man with false teeth, And he any woman that sported a wig. Now Miss Wigley a fever had had in her youth, That completely had left her dead head without hair ; And a fall from a horse had dis- lodg'd every tooth Of poor Deputy Dent, that his jaws were quite bare. One day at the toilette, he knock'd at the door, She bare headed, cried Betty, * Well here's a fine rig,' ' What to do,' cried Miss Wigley • I don't know I am sure ; 4 He must not, at all events, find out the wig. * Bless my soul, is there nothing.' lud. what shall we do ; * I have it, a good thought, I don't care a pin ; So under the toilette her caxon she threw. And manfully cried out, ' Sir, you may come in.' He started, drew back, gave a kind of a hoot ! Did fond lover e'er such an acci dent twig, She bridled and curtsied, as bald as a coot, In her flutter forgetting her head had no wig. With gravity he was no longer en- dued, His risible muscles unmast'rable grew ; And while a loud volley of laugh- ter ensued, His jaws he so stretch'd that ouf ev'ry tooth flew. Distress on distress ! what will thest lovers do ? Though neither could laugh they both relish'd the rig ; And, somewhat consol'd, while each vow'd to be true, She picked up his teeth, and he search'd for her wig. COMIC SONGS. 53 THE TOM CATS' DUEL. THERE were two torn cats on a wall, Just over a cobler's stall,— Tommy White and Tom Grey ; And those twi Toms cats on a wall, Just over a cobler's stall. Had both fell in love they say. 'Twas Miss Tabby that made them to sigh, And sbe lived in a garret hard by, Which brought the two loveyers that way ^ To sing her a sweet serenade (mexo, mew, J And a pretty mollrowing they made Tom White and Tommy Grey. Said Tom White, * Who the devil are you. That here with impertinent mew, Would bid dear Miss Tabby my clack shun ?' Said Tom Grey, * Do not make such a snlutter ; You shall meet me to-night in a gutter, And da — mee, I'll have satisfac- tion.' With claws sharp as daggers they met, And to it, like tigers, they set ; 'Twas doubtful which of them were stronger : They spit (p/iit, phit,) and they scratched, and they swore, — (moll row, J And their poor hairy jackets they tore, Till they could not hold out any longer. Miss Tabby awoke at the clatter. Popp'd her head out, and cried, — (mew, mew) ' What's the mat- ter ? And seemed rather angry and coolish ; Said Tom White, ' Our sad plight only view — We've both been a fighting for you; Then said she, ' That was devilish foolish.' Said Tom Grey, ' I have lost half rav tail,' Said Miss Tabby, * That will not avail, . r . For I vow that my back quite up is, To think that two cats on a wall, Jast over a cobler's stall. Should go for to act like two pup- pies. MRS. BRIDGET. Mrs. Bridget lov'd a man, yet all cruel was he, Fol lol de i ol, &c. For, oh ! hard-hearted tailor, he did'nt love she, Fol.&c. Mrs. Bridget then resolv'd to live, nGt to die, Fol, &c. And at twelve the next night to the river did fly. Fol, to. She walk'd in the stream nearly up to her knees, While the stars twinkl'd bright and the water did freeze: Mrs. Bridget made a pause to re- flect on the sin, And, for the last time, took a small drop of gin. 4 Now, now, then I go ! Mrs. Bud- get did rave, And was making a plunge to a watery grave ; Now, now then, aware her the wa- ter would throttle^ Mrs. Bridget toss'd oft the contents of the bottle. Mr. Snip by chance, he happen'd there to draw near, When poor Mrs. Bridget cried — • Farewell, my dear.' ' Oh ! good bye, love,' said he, when she, looking him through, Cried,' You hard-hearted dog, I'll be d— d if I do.' THE COOK SHOP. I knew by the smoke that so grease- fully curl'd, From a kitchen below that a cook shop was near, And 1 said if a gorge 's to be fouud in the worla, The man that is hungry migh* hope for it here. 54 COMIC SONGS. Ev'ry plate was at rest, And I heard not a sound, But the knives and forks rattling Sweet music for me. And here in this snug little box would I sit, With a joint that was lovely to nose and to view, With a sirloin of beef, a turkey and chine, How bless'd could I live, and how calm could I dine. Ev'ry plate, &c. By the side of yon dustmen whose black muzzles dip, In the gush of the gravy so sweet to recline, And to know as I gobbPd it down with my lip, That it ne'er had been gobbled by any but mine. Ev'ry plate, &c. THE BLACKSMITH. A BLACKSMITH you'll own is so clever, And great in the world is hi3 place, And the reason I've guessed, why for ever, A blacksmith's deserving of grace. Great lawyers who plead and who preach, While many good causes they mar, May yield to the blacksmith to teach, For he labours still more at the bar. Sing fal de la, &c. When great men do wrong in the state, The Commons try hard at their poles : While the blacksmith, as certain as fate, Could have 'em hauVd over the coals, And if rogues put their name to a draft, The law for their hanging will teaze ; But blacksmiths are free from all craft, And may forge just as much as they please. Fal de la, &c. The vices of trade he holds cheap. And laughs at the world as it rails, For, spite of the pother they keep. They can't make a smith eat his nails. And if, to his praise be it spoke, To raise him still higher and higher, You may say, and without any joke All he gets, is got out of the fire. Fal de la, &c. Then let blacksmiths bs toasted around, For well it may always be said, When a fortune by blacksmiths is round, They must hit the right nail o 1 the head. No irony now I'm about, To his metal you'll find him still true ; Since I've hammer 'd his history out, I hope 'twill be temper 1 d by you. Fal de la, &c. THE WATCHMAN. A WATCHMAN I am, and I know all the round, The housekeepers, the strays, and the lodgers, Where low devils, rich dons, and high rips may be found, Odd dickies, queer kids, and rum codgers. Of money, and of property, I'm he that takes great care, And cries, when I see rogues go by, Hey ! what are you doing there? C Spoken.)— * Only a little business in that house :— you understand me' ' Understand you ! — well I believe you are an honest man. — Do you hear, bring me an old silver candle- stick. Then to my box I creep, And then fall fast asleep, Saint Paul's strikes one, Thus after all mischiefs done, I goes and giv»s them warning, COMIC SONGS. 55 And loudly bawls, As strikes St. Paul's Past one o'clock and a cloudy morning. Then round as the hour I merrily cries, Another fine mess I discover, For a curious rope ladder I straight- way espies, And Miss Forward expecting her lover. Then to each other's arms they fly, My life, my soul, ah, ah ! Fine work. Miss Hot-upon't, cries I, I'll knock up your papa. Spoken. — ' No, no, you won't.' ' I shall ; worthy old soul, to be treated in this manner.' ' Here, here, take this.' ' Oh you villain, want to bribe an honest watchman ! — and with such a trifle too !' ' Well, well here is more.' ' More ! You seem to be a spirited — now do make her a good husband — I am glad you trick- ed the old hunks — good night — I wish you safe at Gretna Green !' — Then to my box I creep, And then fall fast asleep. What's that ? St. Paul's strikes two, The lovers off, what does I do, But gives the father warning, And loudly bawls, &c. Then towards the square, from my box as I looks, I hears such a ranting and roaring 'Tis Pharaoh's whole host, and the pigeons and rooks, Are laughing, and singing, and swearing. Then such a hubbub and a din, How they blaspheme and curse ! That thief has stole my diamond pin, Watch, watch, I've lost my purse. Spoken.—* Watch, here I charge you,' ' and I charges you.' ' Tis a marvellous thing that honest people can't go home without being robbed —Which is the u.ief ?' 4 That's the thief that tricked me out of two hundred pounds this evening.' * Ay that you know is all in the way of business, but which is the thief that stole the gentleman's purse V * That's him.' ' What, Sam Snatch ? Give it to me, Sam. He has not got your purse — you are mistaken in your man. Go home peaceably, and don't oblige me to take you to the watch-house.' — Then to my box I creep, And then fall fast asleep. What's that? St. Paul's strikes three— Thus from all roguery I gets free,. By giving people warning, And loudly bawls, &c. PARODY ON THE « ROSE-BUD OF SUMMER.' WHEN gooseberries grow on tke stem of a dais> T , And plumb-puddings roll on the tide to the shore, And jalap is made from the curls of a jazy, Oh ! then Molidusta, I'll love thee no more. When steam boats no more on the Thames shall be going, And a cast - iron bridge reach Vauxhall from the Nore, And the Grand Junction Water- works cease to be flowing, Oh ! then Molidusta, I'll love thee no more. KICKARABOO. POOR negro say one ting you no take offence, Black and white be one colour a hundred years hence, For when massa Death kick him in- to the grave, He no spare negro, buckra, nor mas- sa, nor slave. Then dance, and then sing, and the banger thrum thrum, He foolish to tink what to-morrow may come ; Lilly laugh and be fat, de best ting you can do, Time enough to be sad when you Kickaraboo. One massa, one slave, high and low, all degrees, Can be happy, dance, sing, make all pleasure him please; 56 COMIC SONGS. One slave be one massa, he good honest brave, One massa bad, wicked, be worse than one slave. If your heart tell you good, you all happy, all well, If bad, he plague, vex you warse than a hell ; Let your heart make you merry then, honest and true, And you no care no farthing for Kickaraboo. One game me see massa him play him call chess, King, queen, bishop, knight, castle, all in a mess, King kill knight, queen bishop, men castle throw down, Like card-soldier him scatter, all lie on a ground : And when the game over, king, bishop, tag, rag, Oueen, knight, altogether him go in a bag :— So in life's game at chess, when no more we can do, Massa Death bring one bag, and we Kickaraboo. Then be good, what you am, never mind de degree, Lily flower good for somewhat as well as great tree, You one slave, be no use to be sulky and sly, Worky, worky, perhaps, you one massy by'm by. Savee good and be poor make you act better part, Than be rich in a pocket and poor in a heart ; Though ever so low, do your duty for true, All your friend drop one tear when you Kickaraboo. THE GHOST OF A SCRAG OF MUTTON. A SCHOLAR one time, tho' I can't tell you when, Nor can I tell where too, just now ; And he learnt—why, I can't tell you what :— aye and then He liv'd— O I can't tell you how ; He lodg'd at an inn, in the street I'm not right And the sign it don't matter a but- ton ; But this inn it was haunted at twelve every night, By the ghost of a grim scrag of Mutton! O, la, fal de ral, &c. The landlord was in a most terrible fright, He'd no peace by night nor by day, So he sent for this mirror of learn- ing so bright, To see if the ghost he could lay. Says the scholar, ' I can, for at ma- gic I dash, Nor e'en for old Nick care a but- ton ; So don't be in a stew, for I'll settle the hash Of this ghost of a grim scrag of mutton.' He made a great tire, and he put o*» the pot, With turnips, thyme parsley, and leeks ; The clock it struck twelve, as the water grew hot, And the casement upon its hinge creaks. The moment was awful — a terrible job! When with a long neck like a glut- ton, And a grin monstrous ghastly, popp'd in the queer nob Of the ghost of a grim scrag of mutton. Says the scholar, ' You're welcome, some mutton 1 want For my broth, ere the pot it boils faster, So prithee come in ;' said the mutton 4 I sha'ii't, For I'm certainly meat for your master.' Then the scholar he caught up a fork in great wrath, Stuck it under his rib like a glut- ton, Sous'd him into the boiler, and finish- ed his broth, With the ghost of a grim scrag of mutton. COMIC SONGS. 57 The story thus finished, the moral shan t' lag.-— The landlord who'd such little heart, Not the only one he who's been scar'd by a scrag, For a scrag's but a small Bony- part. So the Emperor Scrag in fear Europe has got, Tho' John Bull don't mind him a button, For Johnny's the scholar who'll send him to pot, . Like the ghost of a grim scrag of mutton. THE MARGATE HOY. STANDING one summer's day on the Tower slip, Careless how I my time should employ, | It popp'd in my head that I'd take a trip Aboard of a Margate hoy. I took a few slops, such as shirts and a coat. For of prog I knew well they'd be stor'd ; Then I hail'd a pair of oars, shov'd off my boat, And away I dash'd aboard. Spoken. — Ah, Commodore, who thought of seeing you ?— What, Mrs. Garbage ! how is the Alderman ? — There is my husband, sir. — 'Pon my word, and little Dicky I declare. — Give me leave Commodore, to intro- duce you to my friends. Mr. Sha- drach, Commodore Kelson ; Com- modore Kelson, Mr. Shadrach. — "Very much at your sharvice, sir. — Miss Minikin, Commodore Kelson; Commodore Kelson, Miss Minikin. Very happy to have the pleasure of knowing you, sir. Doctor Quibus, Commodore Kelson ; Commodore Kelson, Doctor Quibus. Captain Squash, Commodore Kelson ; Com- modore Kelson, Captain Squash. Sir Phelim O'Drogheda, Commodore Kelson ; Commodore Kelson, Sir Phelim O'Drogheda. Hollo, there ; cast off the painter. Sit still, ladies and gentlemen. Then off we went with a flowing jib. Full of merriment and joy : The Alderman munching, and prat- tling his Rib, Sing who so blithe, so blithe as we, Who take, who take a voyage to sea. Aboard of a Margate hoy. Then such glee and humour, oui joys to prolong, Pervaded us fore and aft : Some were telling a story, some whistling a song, As we turn'd in and out 'mongst the craft. Then we talk'd of our danger, and then we were gay, Then how we'd astonish'd the folks ; When at Margate arriv'd, then cut out of our way, To laugh at the waterman's joke. Spoken.— Ho the ship ahoy.— Ay, ay, Pray have you one Wiseman aboard ? — No, no. — Then you are all fools. Ha, ha, ha, went Miss Mini- kin. — Dat is very coot chokes, said the Jew. Why, I say Moses, (said the man that was affronted,) are you a bull or a bear ? Damme I thinks you look more like a monkey. And you Miss Dolly Drylips, take a reef in your perriw ig, and clap a stopper on your muzzle, clue up the plaits in your jaw- bag, and give your tongue leave of absence. About ship— Helm's-a-lee— Here she comes. So we made t' other tack, and lay gunnel to, Which soon gave a damp to our joy; Miss Minikin squali'd — Mine cot! cried the Jew. Sing who so blithe, &c. The company's merriment now out of joint, And their tattlers not moving so quick, Scarce right a-head did we twiff Cuckold's Point, ' " But the Alderman began to grow sick. Then we'd like to fall foul of an oys- ter smack, The wind freshing towards th« Nore ; 53 COMIC SONGS. Then stretching too far on the lar- board tack, Bye and bye we came bump ashore. Spoken. —Ah, we shaH all be cast away ! my poor dear pattern cap. — Cash'd away ! What shall I do to be shaved ?— How do you do, Sir Phe- lim ? Arrah, I should be well enough if I was not so cursedly sick. — She rights, she rights. Next a gale coming on, we did pre- ciously kick, Which finished completely our joy ; 'Twas, Madam, how do you do ? — Oh monstrously sick. Sing who so blithe, &c. And now 'twould have made a phi- losopher grin, To have seen such a, concourse of muns ; Sick as death, wet as muck, from the heel to the chjn, For it came on to blow great guns. Spoilt clothes and provisions now clogg'd up the way, Tn a dreary and boisterous night : While apparently dead every pas- senger lay With sickness, but more with the fright. Spoken.— O, I wish I was at home in my bed. Marshy upon my shins. O, will nobod3' throw me overboard. Ah, my poor dear pattern cap's blown into the pond. Arrah, stop the ship. At last, after turning on two or three tacks, Margate lights soon restor'd all our joy, The men found their stomachs, the women their clacks. Sing who so blithe, &c. HIS WORSHIP. HIS worship, Justice Gander, sworn newly of the peace, Resolv'd to set the neighbours to- gether by the ears ; 01 the half-crowns and the shillings their pockets well to fleece, Regardless of the public, their praises or their sneers. Master Matthew was his clerk, a keen and cunning wight, Studied Cunningham and Burn, for the law has different meaiv- ings; Remember cried his worship, whea I'm wrong set me right, For you're my representative, fac- totum, locum tenens. Fomenting litigation, the neighbours nock'd around, One came to get a warrant, a shil- ling was the cost ; Here Matthew, bring the book— Sir 'tis no where to be found ; Zounds! he'll repent, what shal. we do ? the shilling will be lost. Swear, damme, and pay sixpence : I fancy that's the rule, Those who can't get the harvest, must set down with the glean- ings ; How could you be so careless ? you dolt, you stupid fool. — Your worship's representative,/«c- totum, locum tenens. A rich lady 'gainst a hel pless gir 1 most loudly did complain — Here, Matthew, make her mitti- mus, ne'er mind how she ca- joles. We must not, sir, commit her : the law we cannot strain, And the superior courts would haul your worship o'er the coals. I could not for the soul of me, dis- tress so sweet a lass : For justice' sake to equity the heart should have these leanings. You're not proper for your place, sir ; you're a goose, an oaf, an ass— Your worship's representative,/#c- totum, locum tenens. Next day this pretty damsel was walking in a field, His worship pass'd by too, and began to toy and play ; You were yesterday my prisoner, to- day to you I yield. She ran for life, while he pursued and begg'd of her to stay. COMIC SONGS. 59 Sir, is this justice ? oh, for shame ' — 'Tis justice lovely fair, For justice on the bench, and in love, has different meanings : Kay, struggle not. — Is there no friend, no hope ? None, zounds who's there ? Your worship's representative,— factotum, locum tenens. You hir'd me, sir, to set you right whenever you were wrong : For once, then justice practise, sir, since justice you dispense ; Give me this pretty damsel, we've lov'd each other long, And ne'er oppress those honest hearts that merit your defence. Cried Gander, Matthew, I'm the eoose, the ass, and have been blind ; I now see law and equity have very different meanings : Henceforth tne poor shall bless me, and may each great man find, As able, as upright, and as just, a locum tenens. THERE WAS A MAN. THERE was a man tho' its not very common. And as people say he was born of a woman ; And if it be true, as I have been told. He was once a mere infant, but age made him old. Derry down. His face was the oddest that ever was seen, His mouth stood across 'twixt his nose and his chin ; Whenever he spoke it was then with his voice, , And in talking he always made some sort of noise. He'd an arm on eacn side to work when he pleas'd, But he never work'd hard when he liv'd at his ease : Two legs he had got to make him complete, And what was more odd, at each end were his feet. His legs, as folks say, he could move at his will, And when he was walking he never stood still ; If you were to see him, you'd laugh till you burst, For one leg or t'other would always be first. And as people say, if you gave him some meat. Why, if he was hungry, he surely would eat ; _ And when he is dry, if you give him the pot, The liquor most commonly runs down his throat. If this whimsical fellow had a river to cross, If he could not get over, he staid where he was ; He seldom or ever got off the dry ground, So great was his luck that he never was drown'd. c Another misfortune befel this poor yeoman, For wheu he was married his wife was a woman ; And if you believe me, tho' he was revil'd, You may truly aver he was never with child. And if it be true, as I have heard tell, When he was sick he was not very well ; He gave a large gasp, open'd his mouth so wide, By some means or other, this poor fellow died. But the reason he died and the cause of his death, Was, poor soul ! for the want of more breath : And now he is left in the grave for to moulder. Had he liv'd a day longer, he'd been a day older. KNOWING JOEY. I WAS call'd knowing Joey by the lads of our town. Old dad taught me wisely to know folk ; Gad ! I was so cute, when they laughing came down, I ax'd how d'ye do to the show- folk. 60 COMIC SONGS. *>*+^*-*+^>*: •*sr^r.^*./s*\*#.*\» Says I, how d'ye do, to the players. tin Recitative.] I could chant a food stave — that I knows very well ; No boy of my age could talk louder ; Crack a joke, tip the wink, or a droll story tell, Of my cleverness sure none were prouder. So thinks I, it's better nor following of plough, To try with these youths to queer low folk ; Their master I met, and I made a low. bow — Spoken. — * How d'ye do, zir ? I been main happy to see you down in our parts. We shall be prime merr/ now you be com'd. Have some notion of turning stage - actor myself.' — ' Stage -actor! you! you muffin -fac'd son of a tee -to -turn !' said he, ' you could play nothing but a fool.' ' I doant know but what I mought ; said I, for I been trying at it all my life-time.' So got a place just to join wi' the show-folk. The place that I got I determined to keep, But adzookers ! they were all so drollish, Kings, cobblers, and tailors, a prince or a sweep ; And they jaw'd so at I, I looked foolish. Their daggers and their swords they handled so cute, And their ladies were all so be- witching, When I thought to talk droll, I was always struck mute, As t' bacon rack that hangs in our kitchen. They ax'd me to say, as how coach was at the door, While were seated above and be- low folk- Gad, I was so shamed that I flopp'd on the floor, And swoonded away 'mong the show-folk. Spoken. — As T was going on the stage to say ' Ma'am the coach is at the door,' I heard my old daddy's voice up in the gallery : ' Ah, sirrah, what right had you to turn stage- player, and disgrace your family in the manner you have done. For you must know that my father was a great man— dam'me if he wasn't the principal chimney - sweeper in our parts. Thus I swoonded away 'mong the show-folk. They laughed so, and jeered me as never was seen, All. manner of tricks they were playing; One night I was sent to wait a-top of a queen, Not thinking the plan they were laying — Spoken. — I know'd she was a queen because as how they called her Queen Hamlet of Dunkirk ; and she had a lot of shining diamonds a-top of her head, like 'half-moon. My lady she died on a chair next her spouse, While with pins me behind they were pricking ; Spoken.— 1 Why don't you be easy, said I, ' don't yo>" see I'm before the gentlemen and ladies playing my part ? and be d— d to you. All at once her Grace Alive she was soon, aye, and kick- ing ; The people all laugh'd at and hoot- ed poor I, And the comical dogs did me so joke, That I made but one step, without bidding good bye, Spoken. — From the stage door ([ never looked behind me.) I tum- bled over a barrel of thunder — knocked down a hail-storm— spoilt a span new moon— set fire to the sun —dashed like a devil through the in- fernal regions — bolted into Billy Bull's ship, the Ivy -house, lying near St. Paul's Chain. And so bid adieu to the show-folk. CALEB QUOTEM. I'M parish clerk and sexton here, My name is Caleb Quotem— I'm painter, glazier, auctioneer In short I am factotum. COMIC SONGS. 61 I make a watch— I mend the pumps (For plumbers' work my knack is) 1 physic sell — I cure the mumps — I tomb-stones cut — I cut the rumps Of little school-boy Jackies. Geography is my delight — Ballads — epitaphs, I write— -Almanacks I can indite — Graves 1 dig, compact and tight. At night by the fire, like a good jol- ly cock, When my day's work is done and all over, I tipple > T smoke, and I wind up the clock, With my sweet Mrs. Quotem in clov„er. With my amen, gay-men, Hum Quotem, Factotum ; Putty and Lead ; Stumps, mumps, Bumps, rumps, Mortar he thumps ; Joggamy, floggamy— Sign-post daubery — Split-crow, strawberry — Chimery, rhymery — ' Liquorish, stickerish— Chizzle-tomb — Frizzle comb — Going, a going !- Squills- Pills— Song inditing — Epitaph writing — Steeple sound — Corpse to the ground — Windsor soap Physic the Pope- Home hop, Shut up shop — Punch-bowl crockery — Wind up clockery. Many small articles make up a sum, I dabble in all — I'm merry and rum, And 'tis heigho ! for Caleb Quotem, O! THE BALLAD SINGER. BE it known to all those whosoe'er it regards, That we singers of ballads were al- ways call'd bards; And from Ida to Grub-street the Muses who follow, Are each mother's son the true spawn of Apollo : Thus recording great men, or a flea, or a star, Or the spheres, or a Jew's-harp we're all on a par ; .. Nor in this do I tell you a word of a lie, For Homer sung ballads, and so do ... Don't you know what the ancients were ? — great things they talk'ri, How they rode upon Pegasus, that's to say, walk'd ; That near kindred gods they drove Phoebus's chariot, The English of which is— they liv'd in a garret : And thus they went forward; Dio- genes quaff'd, Heraclitus cry'd, and Democritus laugh'd ; Menander made multitudes both laugh and cry, But Homer sung ballads, and so do I. Thus did they strange whimsical notions pursue, Some argu'd on one leg, and some upon two ; To which last my pretensions are not hypothetic, For its certainly clear I'm a Peripa- tetic : Lycurgus and Solon 'bout laws made a pother, Which went in at one ear and then out at t'other ; Old songs such as mine are, will no- body buy ? Come, Homer sung ballads, and so do I. Historic was Pliny, and Plato di- vine, Ovid wrote about love, and Ana- creon wine ; Great Cicero argu'd to every man's palate, And when he was out 'twas a hole in the ballad : Thus to great men of old, who have made such a rout, My claim to all cousin I've fairly made out ; And if any hereafter my right should deny, Tell 'em Homer sung ballads, and so do I. 62 COMIC SONGS. * + *+**■ J-*-*** +*-^* +* * NIGHTINGALE CLUB. THE Nightingale Club in a village was held, At the sign of the Cabbage and Shears, Where the singers, no doubt, would have greatly excell'd, But for want of taste, voice, and ears ; Still between every toast, with his gills mighty red, Mr. President thus with great elo- quence said, Spoken— Gentlemen of the Night- ingale Club, you all know the Rules and Regulations of this Society, and •*f any gentleman present is not aware of them, if he will look over the fire-place he will find them chalked up :— That every gentleman must sing a Volunteer Song, whether he can or no, or drink a pint of salt and water. — Therefore, to make a beginning of this Evening's Har- mony, I shall call upon Mr. Snuffle. ( Sir, you hear I have an extreme bad cold, but with your permission I'll try to do my best.'— 1 Sir, that's All we wish, for if you do your best, the best can do no more.'—' Permit me to blow my nose first, and I'll begin directly. (Singing snufflingly) Master I have and I am his man. Goll-up in dreary dall, Master I have and I am his man, He'll get a wife as fast as he can, With his haily, gaily, gall bo layly, Higelty, pigelty, gigeity, nigelty, Galloping dreary dal. Bravo ! Bravo ? very well sung, Jolly companions ev'ry one. Thus the Nightingale Club nightly keep up their clamour, While nightly knock'd down by the President's hammer. When Snuffle had finish'd, a man of excise, Whose squint was prodigiously fine, Sung ' Love in thine eyes from thee overflow.' After which Mr. Tug who draws teeth for all parties, Roar'd a sea song, whose burthen was, * Pull away hearties, oh, Pull away, pull away, my hearties, Pull — pull away, pull away, my hearties.' Spoken.— Mr. Drinkall we shall be happy to hear your song, sir,( drunk) 4 'Pon my soul, Mr.President, I can- not sing. ' — ' Waiter, bring Mr. Drinkall a glass of salt and water.' -V No, no, Mr. President, sooner than swallow that dose, I'll try one.' Bravo, silence — A lass is good and a glass is good, And a pipe to smoke in cold wea- ther, The world it is good, and the people are good, And we're all good fellows to- gether. A song is a good thing, when it's ver y well sung, But some people they always stick in it. Spoken.— 'Pon my soul, Mr. Pre- sident, I cannot sing any more. Bravo ! Bravo ! &c. Mr. Drybones sung next, who was turned three score, And melodiously warbled away; 1 She's sweet fifteen I'm one year more, And yet we are too young they say.' Then a little Jew grocer who wore a bob wig, Struck up ' Billy Pringle had von very pig, Not very leetel, nor very pig, But ven alive, him live in clover, But now him dead and dat's all over.' Spoken.—' 1 Mr. President, I think it's time we had a toast or senti- ment.' — ' Certainly, whose turn is it to give one ?— ' Mr. Mangle the Sur- geon.' ' Sir, I'll give yon Success to the Royal Union.' Bravo, and now Mr. Dismal we'll thank you for your song.'—' Sir, I shall give you something sprightly.' * Merry are the bells and merry do they ring, Merry is myself, and merry will I sing.' Bravo! Bravo! &c. Mr. Piper some members call'd breach of the peace, Because all his notes were so shrill ; COMIC SONGS. 63 Shriek'd out like the wheel of a cart that wants grease, Deeper and deeper still.' Mr. Max who drinks gin wish'd to coo like a dove, Marmur'd sweetly, • O listen to the •voice of Love, which calls my Daphne to the grove.' Spoken. — Mr. Double-lungs the Butcher was next called on, who had a kind of a duetto voice, some- thing like a penny trumpet and a kettle drum. — ' Mr. Double-lungs, we wish to hear your song.' — ' Sir, I'll sing with all my heart, liver and lights ; I'll sing you the echo song out of Comus with my own accom- paniments, for when a man echoes himself, he's sure to do it in the right key.' ' Sweet Echo, Sweet Echo.' Bravo ! Bravo ! &c. MISTER SIMPKIN. MISTER Simpkin liv'd at Leeds, and he had a wife beside, Who.as she wore the breeches, would often wish to ride. She ask'd bim for a horse ; he yield- ed to her folly, And said, ' I'm always mollified by you, my dearest Molly.' This horse he had six legs, and I will prove it true, He lifted up his fore legs, yet still he stood on two : Down tumbled Mrs. Simpkin, — her frighted spouse averr'd, My lamb's as dead as mutton, for she does not say a word. He popt her in a coffin, and bade them nail it fast ; In funeral array to the parish church they pass'd. Says Simpkin, ' To the church-yard I'll follow at my leisure, For why, my friends, should I make a labour of a pleasure ! At night, a resurrection man, resolv'd the corpse to raise, With his pick-axe op'd the coffin, and at the fair did gaze ; The noise awak'd the lady, * What, in heaven's name,' says she, Are you with that axe about!' 'Why axe about,' said he. Away she ran, he after her, and to the stable hied, There she saw her spouse caressing that horse by which she died ; When in came neighbour Horner, and said, I'll buy that beast, If you think he'll do for my wife, as he did for the. deceas'd. I thank you, sir, said Simpkin, but cannot take your pelf, Nor sell a nag that promises such service to myself ' K For tho' he kill' cf my first wife, I do not feel much vexed, And as I mean to wed again, shall keep him for my next. You dog, cried Mrs. Simpkin, as she seiz'd him by the hair, Disown your lawful wife, now, you villain, if you dare ; I'm neither dead, nor. bury'd, and you must not marry two, Tho' you bury'd me alive, I shall live to bury you. Then turning round his head, Mr. Simpkin cried, Good lack! Behold the resurrection man, now waiting with his sack, When he ask'd, what he wanted * such a man and wife, he said. Can never live together, so I'm wait- ing for the dead. The digger look'd so grave, and his hints so well in season, Though told by me in rhyme, brought the loving pair to reason ; Then Simpkin kiss'd his wife, I'm yours till death he cried. So when, my dearest life, will you take another ride. THINKS I TO MYSELF, THINKS 1. THINKS I to myself, thinks I, I see no reason why, The devil should pause To sharpen his claws, Thinks I to myself, thinks I. Thinks I to myself, thinks I, Those parsons are dev'lish sly, To shun him, they preach, While they suck like a leach, Thinks I to myself thinks I. 64 COMIC SONGS. Thinks I to myself, thinks I, Let knaves my song descry ; J Ml keep from the paw, Of physic and law, Thinks I to myself, thinks I. Thinks I to myself, thinks I, Let none their aid deny, Nor leave their own work, For a devil or Turk, Thinks I to myself, thinks I. Thinks I to myself, thinks I, State jugglers now, good bye, "No longer will slaves, Be govern' d by knaves. Thinks I to myself, thinks I. THE VICAR AND MOSES. AT the sign of the Horse, old Spin- text of course Each night took his pipe and his pot; O'er a jorum of nappy, quite plea- sant and happy, Was plac'd this canonical sot. Tol lol de rol, &c. The evening was dark, when in came the clerk, With reverence due and submis- sion : First strok'd his cravat, then twirl'd round his hat, And bowing, preferr'd his peti- tion. I'm come, sir,* says he, ' to beg, look, d'ye see, Of your reverence's worship and glory, To inter a poor babe, with as much speed as may be, And I'll walk with the lanthorn before ye.* The babe we will bury, but pray where's the hurry ?' * Why, Lord, sir, the corpse it doth stay !' • You fool, hold youi peace ! since miracles cease, A corpse. Moses, can't run away.' Then Moses he smil'd, saying, ' Sir, . a small child Cannot long, sure, delay your in- tentions,' Why, that's true, by St. Faul, a child that is small Cau never enlarge its dimensions. * Bring Moses some beer, and mo some, d'ye hear ? I hate to be call'd from my liquor : Come, Moses, the King ! What a scandalous thing, Such a subject should be but a Vicar !' Then Moses he spoke, ' Sir, 'tis past twelve o'clock. Besides, there's a terrible show'r.' * Why, Moses, you elf, since the clock has struck twelve, I'm sure it can never strike more. ' Besides, my dear friend, to this lesson attend, Which to say and to swear I'll be bold, That the corpse, snow or rain, can't endanger that's plain, But perhaps you or I may take cold.' Then Moses went on, ' Sir, the clock- has struck one, Pray, master, look up at the hand,* 4 Why, it ne'er can strike less ; 'tis a folly to press A man for to go, that can't stand.' At length hat and cloak old ortho- dox took, But first cramm'd his jaw with a quid ; Each tipt off a gill, for fear they should chill, And then stagger'd away side by side. When come to the grave, the clerk hunim'd a stave, While the surplice was wrapp'd round the priest ; So droll was the figure of Moses and Vicar, That the parish still laugh at the jest. 1 Good people, let's pray — put the corpse t'other way, Or perchance I shall over it stum- ble ; 'Tis best to take care, tho' the sages declare A mortuum caput can't tremble. ' Woman that's born of man— that's wrong, the leafs torn— A man that is born of a woman, COMIC SONGS. 65 Can't continue an hour, but's cut down like a flow'r, You see, Moses, death spareth no man ! * Here, Moses, do look, what a con founded book! Sure the letters are turn'd upside down ; Such a scandalous print ! why, the devil's in't, That a blockhead should print for the Crown ! * Prithee, Moses, you read, for I cannot proceed, And bury the corpse in my stead ; CAmen, Amen. J * Why, Moses, you're wrong, pray still hold your tongue, You've taken the tail for the head. * Oh, where's thy sting, Death ! — Put the corpse in the eaith, For believe me, 'tis terrible wea- ther.' So the corpse was interx'd, without praying a word, And away they both stagger'd to- gether, , Singing tol lol de rol, &c. TWENTY - NINTH OF FEBRUARY. A MAN was born one day, I'th' month of February The twenty-ninth they say, Which comes, it appears, But once in four years ; So when to man's estate he came, By law was forc'd his right to claim : "What a comical vagary. Spoken. — Counsel for him having opened the case, and examined wit- ness; counsel against him, argued that he was not of age. — ' My Lud,' said he, ' plaintiff says he is of age, out I say he is not : he was born on the 29th of February, which coming but once in four years, his birth-day can only come once in four years ; and no man can reckon more than one year* from birth-day to birth- day. — Consequently, though he calls himself twenty-one, I contend he is but five and a quarter, my lud: a mere infant in law, and is at this moment in the leading strings of my learned brother, whj is, no doubt, well feed for nursing him ; but he has turn'd him out so rickety, he hasn't a leg to stand on. He cries for a rattle, my lud, when he ought to have #^^.r BILLY YITE, OR THE GHOST OF A SHEEP'S HEAD. COME all you blades both high and low, And you shall hear of a dismal go, It is all about one Billy Yite, Who was his parents' sole delight. Ri tol, &c. He was a collier all by his trade, And noted for a natty blade, Till he fell in love with Molly Green, The prettiest lass that e'er was seen. Hi tol, &c. Now this here young voman I'd have you know, Lov'd that are 3 7 oung man but wery so, so, For she was wery well vars'd in let- ters, And fit to marry poor Billy Vite's betters. Ri tol, &c. NTow when his suit she did deny, He in a coal-pit went to cry, When straightway disappeared to him Old Nick, Who bid him tip her a penn'orth of white arsenic. Ri tol, &c. poison her he was wery, wery loth, So he mix'd it up in some sheep's head broth, And she did eat while she was able, Till she fell stiff stone dead under- neath the table. Ri tol, &c. One night when he lay fast asleep, He plainly saw the ghost of a sheep, And unto him it straightway said, A maid you've poison d with my head. Ri tol, &c. 1 come, says he, from old Nick straight, He vants you and he will not vait ; I'll tie you up hi 3 T our red garters, And carry you away top of my hind quarters. Ri tol, &c. Now avay they vent in a flash of fire, Which made all the people wery much admire, They had never seen such a sight before, And I hope that they never wont see such a sight ever any more. Ri tol, &c. Now all you blades unmarried, Take valuing by that are chap what'5 dead, And if he had never done any body any wrong, He might have been here to bear this here 5ong. Ri tol, &c. THE MERRY BELLS. WHEN I was a younker, says fey. ther to I, What trade, little Ralph, wouldst thou take to ? I answered, i'feggs ! like a poor harmless boy, Your's, sure, tor I ne'er can for- sake you, You jollify work, and you merrily sing, Then trie branch from the tree don't be lopping ; Late or early, in summer, in winter or spring, With you I'll be cleaving and chopping : For labour and health will be friends thro' the day, And the merry, merry, merry bells join our roundelay. My school-fellow, Jack, who turn'd lawyer besure, Old Nick shew'd the road to pre- farment, Set friends by the ears, and he plun- dered the poor ; Od ratten ! 1 hate such black var- ment ! A Doctor was Dick, and he drugg'd folks to death ; Of him too the neighbours cry'd shame on't ! A corn-factor Wull, I shall hate while I've breath; To monopolize he had the name on't: But dang such base traffic — I toil thro' the day, While the merry, &c, 68 COMIC SONGS. ^#'^#'^*^N^^^^r^##i##^#^'.#>»'^* , -*^^*»-^*'^*'^*' ^*>^* , -#^^^'^r^*s*sr^^^rsr*#^ But mark now the end on't : the lawyer one day, Wrote his name on a wrong bit of paper : So ecod ! to old big zoig they took'd him away, And on nothing he cut his last ca- per. Dick, the doctor was poison'd by drugs of his own, The corn-factor paid dear for his carving ; Plenty fill'd ev'ry market, the prices went down, So a bankrupt is Wull now, and starving. While labour and health stand my friends thro' the day, And the merry, &c. SAYS THE PARSON. SAYS the parson of the parish, all rosy his gills, To increase and to multiply Scrip- ture fulfils ; I shall take this young damsel to have and to hold, She's the loveliest lambkin in all my whole fold: Then her fortune and int'rest once added to mine, I shall soon be a bishop : Oh, rap- ture d-ivine ! Of my lordly induction I long for the day, While the organ an anthem so sweet- ly shall play. Says the lord of the manor, No poaching d'ye near, For my own proper sport have 1 turn'd out this deer, I shall dodge her, and watch her from woodland to field, Till panting and tir'd to my mercy she yield : Then once she's run down, leave you all in the lurch, While in splendid procession appear at the church, The hounds and the horses in order so gay, While the mellow -ton'd horn the tantivy shall play. Says sir Morgan ap Evans, Odds spluter ner nails 'Gainst her pirths and extractions your's nothing avails, Her can boast a fine, large, and long pedigree, Where her ancestors grew like the boughs on a tree, Her to pleasant Glamorgan will car- ry her bride, And her'll skip like the coats, and the keffels beside, And her'll sing, and moreover her'll dance through the day, While the harps and the dulcimers sweetly shall play. Cries the rapturous lover, Go quick- ly resign Charms celestial like her's to a pas- sion like mine, He for beauty and sweetness alone has desert, Who riches despises, and seeks heart for heart : Were my love stript of fortune, de- serted, unknown, In our cottage's threshold, I'd fancy a throne ; With tenderness mutual beguiling the day, While the riv'let in murmurs so sweetly should play. Says Alderman Stufnt I'm worth a whole plum ; What girl in her wits but would yield to that sum ? Her charms are all turtle, and ven'- son, and wine, Then say grace, my good Domine, that I may dine. Says a warrior, I love the dear crea- ture, Oh far More than death or the noblest de- struction of war, O'er her charms what a vict'ry to carry the day, While the drums and the trumpets so loudly shall play. Sure as death, cried the doctor, her pulse I shall feel ; To me, cried the lawyer, she'll sign and she'll seai ; Cried the gamester, I'll win her, or else I'm undone ; She'll be mine, cried the sportsman, as sure as a gun : Hold your tongues, cried the poet, you can't have her all, For me, to whose ever kind lot she shall fall, COMIC SONGS. 69 r^s#-^-^^r^>#> So you pay me, I'll sing both the song and the day, While the Loves and the Graces so sweetly shall play. WHEN I WAS A YOUNKER. WHEN I was a 3-ounker, and liv'd with my dad, The neighbours all thought me a smart little lad ; My mammy she call'd me a white- headed boy, Because with the girls I lik'd to toy. There was Ciss, Priss, Letty and Betty, And Doll; With Meg, Pes, Jenny and Winney, And Moil. I flatter Their clatter, So sprightly and gay : I rumble 'em — Tumble 'em — That's my way. One line frosty morning, a going to school, Young Moggy I met, and she call'd me a fool ; Her mouth was my primer, a lesson I took, I swore it was pretty, and kiss'd the book. But School, Fool, Primer, Trimmer, And birch, And boys for the girls I leave in the lurch. I flatter, &c. It's well known I can dance a good jig. A.nd at cudgels from Robin I won a fat pig : I can wrestle a fall, and the bar I can fling, And when o'er a flaggon, can sweet ly sing. But Pig, Kg, Wicket, And Cricket, And ball, I'd give up to wrestle with Moggy a fall. I flatter, &c. THE JEW BROKER. I'M a broker by trade, And a snug ting I've made, In de market where stock jobbeis sally ! Where a spark all so spruce, Very oft has de luck To come in like a goose, And go out like a duck, Widdle waddle away from de alley. Spoken. — * How go the stocks to- day ?' — * De old way, my tear, up and down, like a goldbeater's ham- mer. 1 suppose you are come to try your luck ?' — ' I want to buy for time.' — ' Buy for time, den de mint's low mid you ? But take care you don't rue it, Mr. Marjoram, and when the settling day comes — Widdle waddle, &c. My money I lends To assist my good friends, Who oft' take in de Jew — never rally— For, if it is true Vat dey say, that a man, Because he's a Jew, Vill take in all he can, Dere's a great many Jews in de al- ley. Spoken. — Vat is de bull and de bear who trick one another, but every rogue's an honest man till he is found out, and den it is, ' who'd have thought it f and if rogueiy 7 was like Russia oil, and made de beard grow, de bulls and de bears wou'd turn to nanny goats, and you'd fancy you saw a creat many Jews. Widdle waddle, &c. BETTY BRILL. I'M very fond of fish, And once on Fish-street Hill, Of sprats I bought a dish. Of pretty Betty Brill, {cries sprats 70 COMIC SONGS. No soul could near her come, For skill in gift of gab ; And then she was at home, With flounders to a dab. (cries flounders) O, Betty Brill, Have you I will, Lcried, in love's sweet dudgeon, Pike off, says she, You don't catch me, For, Joey, I'm no gudgeon ! I met her once again, Says I, my pretty maid, Don't let me sue in vain, Now what dy'e think she said ? ( cries mackerel) Says sue, a shrimp are you, And I, a salmon — cross ! Said I, what better do, Than salmon and shrimp sauce ? (cries salwn) O, Betty Brill,. Have you I will, O, I'm in doleful dudgeon Pike off, says she, You don't catch me, For, Joey, I'm no gudgeon* The secret soon came out, A rival he came in ; Who muscles cried about, :, And muscled me— don't grin ! (cries muscles) An oyster then, so neat, She op'd her mind to tell. Gave him the fish to eat, And threw at me the shell. (cries ovsters) O, Betty Brill, I love you still, And am in doleful dudgeon ; O, sorry fate, That such a bait As I cant catch a gudgeon ! A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP. YOU'VE heard of a frog in an opera hat, 'Tis a very old tale of a mouse and a rat : I could sing you another as pleasant mayhap, Of a kitten that wore a fine high- caul' d cap : But my muse on a far nobler subject t shall drop, A bull who got into a china-shop. With his right leg, left leg, upper leg, under leg, Patrick's day in the morning. He popp'd in by chance at a china- shop door, Where they very soon found that the bull was a bore ; The shopman to drive him out tried with much care, The floor being cover' d with crockery ware ; And among it, resenting the shop- man's taunt, The bull began dancing the cow's corant. With his right leg, &c. Whatever with his feet he couldn't assail, He made ducks #nd drakes with his horns and his tail : So frisky he was with his downs and his ups, Each tea-service prov'd he was quite in his cups ; He play'd Mag's diversion among all the crates, He splinter'd the dishes, and dish'd all the plates. With his right leg, &c. The china-shop master, a little fat man, Popp'd in, and the bull at him furi ously ran, Caught him up by the waistband without more ado, And toss'd him completely the shop window thro' ; The poor little fat man flew up like a dart, And down he came plump in a scavenger's cart. With his right leg, &c. The poor china-seller retriev'd this affray, But his neighbours laugh at him to this very day ; He has a nick-name, for derision a mark, For they one and all call him the little mud-lark ; COMIC SONGS. 71 While the joke he enjoys, grateful for the relief; But from that day to this he can't stomach bull-beel. With his right leg, &c. WILL YOU BUY ANY TAPE. WILL you buy any tape, Or lace for your cape, My dainty duck, my dear-a ? And silk and thread, And toys for your head Of the new'st and fin'st wear-a ; Come to the pedlar, Money's a medlar, That doth utter all men's wear-a. ' TIPITYWITCHET. THIS morning very handy, My malady was such, I in my tea took brandy, And took a cup too much. (Hickups) tol de rol. But stop, I musn't mag hard, My head aches if you please, One pinch of Irish blackguard, I'll take to give me ease. (Sneezes) tol de rol. Now I'm quite drowsy growing, For this very morning, I rose when cock was crowing, Excuse me if I yawn. Clawns) tol de rol I'm not in cue for frolic, Can't up my spirits keep, For love on windy cholic, 'Tis that which makes me weep. ( Cries) tol de rol. I'm not in mood for crying, Care's a silly calf, If to get fat you're trying, The only way's to laugh. (Laughs) tol de rol. CHAPTER ON POCKETS. OH ! long life to the girls that revive without pother, The modes of their darling original mother. Mrs. Eve, who was straight as f the sticks of sky-rockets, And first set the fashiou of wearing no pockets. So ladies go cool, don't care a splin- ter, For easterly winds or a hard frosty winter, With petticoats light, genteel, and clever, So flannel de damn'd and the ague for ever. Mrs. Eve who with panniers her sides would not saddle, Nor e'er thought of pockets to hold in her daddle, By my soul the invention's right han- - dy and sensible, Then bless the fair ladies' sweet dear indispensible. From Cork Paddy came, and th» English defin'd him, For wearing his coat nearty button'd behind him. Tit for tat, English girls, oh! the Pats all adore you. So pray visit Cork with your poc- kets before you. In one of the Boroughs not free from infection. Should a lady set up for our general election, With Pocket in hand and the mo- pusses in it, Oh ! she'd be at the head of the poL in a minute. WHY HOW NOW. WHY how now, Madam Flirt, If you thus must chatter, And are for flinging dirt, Let's try who best can spatter, Madam Flirt ! Why how now, saucy jade, Sure the wench is tipsy : How can j^ou see me made The sport of such a gipsy, Saucy jade » THE HUMOURS OF DUN MOW. AT Dunmow there's a flitch of ba- con, Where married folks appear, 72 COMIC SONGS. To claim it when the oath they've taken, That for a day and year They never wished themselves unwed, Nor cross word to each other said. Spoken. — John Lump and his spouse Dorothy claim'd it. ' Can you swear to the conditions V said the steward. ' Ees. ees, sir,' said John ; ' Yes your worship,' said Dorothy. * You never quarrel ?' — ' Noa, noa, for my part,' said John, ' I never gives nobody a cross word, not I.' ' But your wife ?' ' Why shoo does come out wi' her nouns now and then to be sure.' ' Nouns, John, what do you mean by nouns ?' ' Only a, little smooth swearing.' * Don't you swear at her ?' ' Never, but when she provokes me to't.' ' Then you do quarrel,' said the steward, ' and perhaps you have wished to be part- ed?' 'Quarrel,' said John, 'why what a fooil you mun be to call a little bit o' snap dragon quarrelling ; and as for parting, does any man in his senses wish to part with a good gooise because shoo clacks a bit ?' ' Good folks,' cried the steward, ' you're quite mistaken, So as you came go, For you never, no, no. Shall gammon me out of the flitch of bacon.' To Dunmow next went Shadrach Lyon, And Rachael his dear bride ; For they the bacon had an eye on, To them the steward cried, * You're come to take the flitch I guess ;' Says Shadrach, ' Sir, I can't take less.' Spoken.— 1 And I hope, sir, dat is de best, for I warranted it to my customer, when I sould it to him.' ' What ! sold the bacon before you was sure of it ?' ' Always take care of de main chance, ma tear.' ' But how do you manage to live without quarrelling ?' ' By never falling out.' * Can you swear thai you never had a cross word for a year and a day ?' • Yes, ma tear, for I have been in de country, and havVt seen Rachael tor more as dat time.' ' That evasion won't do, so I shall not give you the bacon.' ' Veil, ma tear, what do you ax for it ? I came here to do business and shouldn't like to go away emp- ty handed.' ' I ask the term of the oath !' ' Den, ma tear, your bacon will hang till it's rusty, and you'll be glad to send for me take it off your hands at ma own price.' ' Good folks, &c. To Dunmow went another couple, Pat Byrne and Judy Flinn ; Aud there they thought, so smooth and supple, To take the steward in : Says Fat, ' You see, as pea- time's near, We're come, sir, for the bacon here.' || Spoken. — ' You must take your oath,' said the steward, ' that you have never wish'd yourselves un- married, nor had a cross word for a I year and a day !' * Take an oath,' said Pat, ' wouldn't a gentleman's ! honour do for you !' ' No, you must swear on the book.' ' Couldn't I swear on the bacon,' says Pat, ' as to cross words, sure and its more than she dare give me, as she knows by the bating she got last week in re- membrance of it ; and as for wish- ing ourselves unmarried, sure we've no call to it ; for didn't I buy her second hand, and by the same token give a three shilling piece for her six months ago ? I've had her six months and she's had me six moiffcs/ dat makes a year, and to day's^the day we've come for the bacon, ancr dat's a year and a day, and dat's enough for you ! so hand us over the half of the hog's waistcoat that hangs dere, and don't keep gentlefolks waiting. 'Good folk,' said the steward, * you're quite mistaken, So as you came go, For you never, no t no, Shall gammon me out ot the flitch of I bacon.' 0* 9 * "9 +++++■+■*+ *+■++++++**■+■+■+++*++■++■+*+' THE DEVONSHIRE BOY. NOW Ize a Devonshire boy, And father be Devonshire too, And he, for an honest employ, Sends I up to London to you ! To be sure in a hurry I came, And the reason you'll presently zee, sir, For the parish began to complain About our plump Dolly and me, sir, Rumpty iddledy, &c. But chance, d'ye see was my friend, Soon 1 got sarvice in town, sir, And footman, I strutted depend, To a parliament man of renown, sir; But Fortune so fickle, you know, Turn'd booty onmeaster and I, sir, Who made a mistake, and said No y When he should have bawl'd out to 'em Aye, sir, liumpty iddledy, &c. Now measter and I out of place, I had a new zarvice to find, sir, But to save kicking out with disgrace, We made the folk think we resign d sir. Then hir'd I was, and my lot To a travelling captain and squire, sir, But soon to my cost I found I'd got From the frying-pan into the jire, sir. Rumpty iddledy, &c. Then when I was lucky again, My.measter I found was no ninny, sir, Whose money was lent to come in For every shilling a guinea, sir. * Now, dang it,' says I, ' sir,' one ♦day, S Do pray hare a little of con- science ;' For which, gad, he turn'd me away, And swore he'd have none of my nonsense. Rumpty iddledy, &c. Now turn'd quite a-drift on the world, And left to reflect on my folly, sir, My thoughts, which at random were whirl'd, Return'd to poor Devonshire Dolly, sir ; So dang it, to lead a new life, Tho' marriage is oftentimes mawky, Addzooks ! why I made her the wife Of I, Mister Jeremy Gawkey. Rumpty iddledy, &c. COMIC SONGS. 73 MRS. M'CAWLEY AND THE DOCTOR. A LITTLE old woman was taken ill Heigho ! says Peter ; A little old woman taken ill, So she sent for the doctor to give her a pill, With a rowley poley, Ginger and jalap, oh ! Heigh ! says Peter M'Cawley.- The doctor he came to feel her hand, Heigho ! says Peter ; The doctor he came to feel her hand, When he found her so drunk that she con'dn't well stand, With her gin bottle.wet throttle Talk away, mug away, Heigh! says Peter M'Cawley. Says the doctor, says he, I mus open a vein, Heigho ! says Peter ; <. Says the doctor, says he, I must open a vein, When the little old woman said, Oh! fie for shame ! "With her rowley powley, Hickup and kick up, Heigh ! says Peter M'Cawley. Says the doctor, says he, why then you're dead, Heigho ! says Peter ; Says the doctor, says he, why then you're dead, When she up'd with the gin keg, and quite broke his head, With her rowley poley, Scratch'em, and fight away, Heigh! says Peter M'Cawley. Oh! oh! says the doctor, is this your fun? Heigho ! says Peter ; Oh ! oh ! says the doctor, is this your fun ? Then the devil may cure you — and off he run, With his rowiey powley, Gammon and physic, Heigh! says Peter M'Cawley. HOLD YOUR JAW. A CIT much distress'd, A statesman address'd, Respecting the silencing law, The statesman reply'd, But spoke it aside, The meaning is hold yourja&r* \ 74 COMIC SONGS. In forming a mob To plunder or rob, Or seize an old friend by the craw, This law points the way To Botany Bay, Then prithee man, hold your jaw. Old Gallica sat. As snug as a rat, Conceal'd in a bundle ot straw; Wojuld have eat all our fat, Had not sly pussy cat, Cry'd, sirrah, pray hold your jaw \ To judge matters right Requires good sight, Or would you the proper line draw Pray run not your rig On Tory or Whig, But prudently hold your jaw. Let each hasty soul His passion control, Remember wise Solomon's saw ; In venting your spite, You'll get nothing by't, 'Twere better to hold your jaw. May each gallant crop, Whose head's like a mop, With care keep is eye on his taw, For should his tong tongue Cause him to be hung, He'd certainly hold his jaw THE BOLD DRAGOON. THERE was an ancient fair, O she lov'd a neat young man, And she could not throw sly looks at him but only thro' her fan, With her winks and blinks, this waddling minx, Her quizzing glass, her leer and sidle, O ! she lov'd this bold Dragoon, with his long sword, saddle, bridle- Whack, row-di-dow, &c. She had a rolling eye, its fellow it had none, Would you know the reason why— it was because she had but one ; With her winks and blinks, tins waddling minx, She couldn't keep her one eye idle, O ! she leer'd at this Dragoon, with his long sword, saddle, bridle- Whack, row-di-dow, &c. Now he was tall and slim, she squab and short was grown, He look'd just like a mile in length, and she like a mile stone ; With her winks and blinks, this waddling minx, Her quizzing glass, her leer, and sidle, O! she sigh'd to this Dragoon, bless your long sword, saddle, bridle, Whack, row-di-dow, &c. Soon he led unto the church the beau- teous Mrs. Flinn, Who a walnut would have crack'd 'tween her lovely nose and chin, O then such winks in marriage links, The four-footed bride from church did sidle, As the wife of this Dragoon, with his long sword, saddle, bridle,— Whack, row-di-dow, &c. A twelvemonth scarce had pass'd when he laid her under ground, Soon he threw the onion from his eyes and touch'd 10,000 pounds ; For her winks and blinks, her mo- ney chinks, He does not let her cash lie idle, So long life to this Dragoon, with his long sword, saddle, bridle — Whack row-di-dow, &c, COMIC SONGS. 15 WERRY PECOOL1AR. IF you'll list, a story to you I'll de- velope, Yet my heart to think on't, like a bushel will swell up; My courtship and woes, To 30U I'll disclose, Likez/7'i-e its beginning and kurrious close ; I'll teli how I love the charming Miss Julia. And how 1 thought her so werry pecooliar. Spoken.'] I saw'd her von day, and 1 thought her such a sweet simpering slut, so I sighed and I simpered, and said summat — and In short, 1 thought her so werry pe- cooliar. I met her one Sunday — so sweet and so sightly, Her cheeks iook'd so red, and her e>e3 Iook'd so brightly ; 1 felt all so kevere, I sigh'd then, oh, dear ! Like a staty I stood, betwixt hope and tear, She soon saw'd me sighing, the charm- ing Miss Julia, I dare say we Iook'd so werry pecoo- liar. Spoken.] Lisping. I felt such a sensation come over my senses, and somehow, for the soul of me, 1 could not speak to her ; my tongue stuck to my mouth, my knees shook"d, my heart went like a blacksmith's ham- mer, up and down. So I'm sure we both Iook'd so werry pecooliar. But 1 soon conker 'd fear, my mind out I spoke sir, For when love is ot, the ice is soon broke, sir ; She'd laugh, and she'd hoax, I'd talk, and I'd coax, In short, we had plenty of jeering and jokes ; 1 thought she lov'd me, as I did Miss Julia, There was summat about her so werry pecooliar. Spoken.] She nad a small turn up nose you could hang a pot on, with- out coming off; Nice carrotty hair, and grey eyes ; in short — She had summat about her so werry pecooliar. For a seat in the playhouse I often did book her, To dances and" routs I often have took her ; But once at a dance, Sad unluckly chance, She cut me, and off with another did prance. A chap he comes up, and took hold of Miss Julia, There was summat about him so werry pecooliar. Spoken-] She had on a sarcenet and satin dress, with a satin sash, and san- dals on, I thought there was summat kurissar than common about her, for as cool as a kukumber she Iook'd at me and danc'd with him. So I thought- There was summat about her so werry pecooliar. RI FUM TI FUM. IF you will list, I vow, sirs, I'll tell you of a row, sirs, Caus'd me to part from my sweet- heart, I'm telling of 3 7 ou now, sirs ; Indeed I am, ah ! that 1 am, Ri fum ti fum, too di iddle, tol lol. lol lol, ti do. One night I went to meet her. With true love 1 did greet her, When in she looks in a pastry-cook's And wanted me to treat her. Indeed she did, &c. At this I Iook'd quite funny, Says 1, my charming honey, I've lots of love, as you may prove But I aint got no money. Indeed I aint, &zc. Says she, young man, 'tis plain, sir Your love is all in vain, sir, Unless you've cash, to cut a dash. My heart you'll never gain, sir. Indeed you won't &c. I shock 'd was when I hp.ara her, Says 1, don't say no furder, 76 COMIC SONGS. »*** +■*»*+++***. You surely will with coldness kill, And you'll be hung for murder. Indeed you will, dec. Says she, you stupid elf, sir, As you have got no pelf, sir, Get rid of hope — go buy a rope, And you may hang yourself, sir, , Indeed you may, &c. The tears in my eyes started, I felt quite broken-hearted, She lett me by myself to sigh, And that's the way we parted. Indeed it was, &c. ALL THE JACK-ASSES ARE OVER THE WATER. MARCH ! march ! Cripplegate,Hors- leydown ! Why my Flints dinna ye forward to slaughter March ! march ! eyes right ! do'nt tumble down ; All the jack-asses are over the water. Many a body blow Tailors may make so-so ! Fortune will crown us, who nobly have sought her ; Knights of the thimble — then Fight, tho' ninth parts of men, All the jack-asses are over the water, March, march — St. Gile's and Port- land town, Baste the vile dungs and give them no quarter : March, march — cut them up — pin them down ; All the jack-asses are over the wa- ter. Come from the shop-board, where cross legg'd you're stitching, Come from the den where the cab- bage you stow, Come from the goose — hissing hot in the kitchen ; Come with the sleeve-board, ye sheermen of Bow : Cat-calls are sounding, War asses bounding. Measure your distance — press on to the slaughter : Draw up in line exact, Don't mind that Cataract : All the jack-asses are over the water. March, &c. BETSY BAKER. FROM noise and bustle far away hard work my time employing, How happily did 1 pass each day, content and health enjoying ; The birds did sing, and so did 1, as I trudg'd o'er each acre ; I never knew what 'twas to sigh, till 1 saw Betsy Baker. At church I met her, dressed so neat, one Sunday in hot weather, With love 1 found my heart did beat as we sung psalms together ; So piously she hung her head the while her voice did shake, ah ; 1 thought if ever I did wed, 'twould be with Betsy Baker. From her side I could not budge, and sure, I thought no harm on't, My elbow then she gave a nudge, ana bade me mind the sarmeyit, When church was over, out she walk'd, but I did overtake her, Determined 1 would not be baulked, spoke to Betsy Baker. Her manners were genteel and cool ; I found, on conversation, She'd just come from boarding school, and finished her education : But love made me speak out quite free, says I I've many an acre, Will you give me your company, I sha'nt, says Betsy Baker. All my entreaties she did slight, and 1 was forced to leave her, 1 got no sleep all that there night, for love had brought a fever ; The doctor came, he smel'd his cane, with long face like a Quaker. Said he, ' Young man, pray where's thy pain V says I sir, Betsy Baker. Because I was not bad enough he bo- lused me and pilled me, And, if I'd taken all his stuff, I think he must ha' killed me. I put an end to all the strife 'twixt him and the undertaker, And what dye think 'twas saved my life 1 why, thoughts of Betsy Baker. 1 then again to Betsy, went, once more with love attack'd her, But meantime she got aquainted wi' a ramping mad play actor, If she would have him, he did say, a lady he would make her, He gammoned her to run away, and I lost Betsy Baker. COMIC SONGS. 77 I fretted very much to find, my hopes of love so undone, And mother thought 'twould ease my mind if 1 came up to London ; But though I strive another way, my thoughts will ne'er forsake her, I dream all night, and think all day, of cruel Betsy Baker. GREAT FLOPPING BONNETS ARE NOW ALL THE ORDER. WALK, walk, Hyde Park and Eend Street, Sir, Or if you parade the Serpentine border. You will discover by ladies you meet Sir, That great flopping bonnets are now all the rrder. Yards of Leghorn spread, - Flip, flopping on their head, Keeps nodding as much to say, 1 Gents, how are ye !' Tackle too now then, nor Stand shilly shally, for Great flopping bonnets are now all the order. Come from your glasses ye dandies and dash on, Come from the counter of your mas- ters' shops, Come to the belles, who now in fa- shion, Invite you so earnest with flippety flops, Ladies are nodding 1 Nid, nid, nid, nodding. Till nodding does scarcely on decen- cy border ; Maidens shall rue the da3 T , When they dress'd out so gay, In great flopping "bonnets, for they're now all the order. THE IRISH LOVE LETTER. OCH ! Judy, dear creature, she has won my soul, The thoughts of her eyes, has put my heart in a fililoo, By the side of my donkey, I lay- cheek by jowl, On a sheet of brown paper, to write her a billy doo, I had no pen, so made smlt with a skewer, And thus 1 began all my mind to reveal. Och ! dear Judy I've a mind to be sure, That you should become lovely- Mistress O'Neal. Whack fal the ral, fal de ral, whack fa, la, Whack fal lal, lal de ral, ral de ral lidity. My father, a sempstress, makes clothes for the army, My mother's a coalman on great Dublin's quays, And it you were with us I know it would charm ye, To see all our decent and illegant ways. Each day for dinner, we've herrings 0: salmon, We eat our potatoes without any peel, And so you may Judy, without any gammon, If you will but become lovely Mrs. O'Neal. Whack, &c. Tho' my skewer's a bad pen — you may judge of my knowledge, My penmanship, spelling, and book that 1 read, I was brought up next door to great Trinity College, And larnt mathematical French and the Creed, If you can't read this letter, the par- son will do it, 1 Och 1 Comming voo, pottey voo, . Mademoyselle,' I can fight like a tiger — and soon you May know it. If you will but become lovely Mrs. O'Neal. Whack, &c. I love you my jewel ! altho' you are after That white-headed Barney, the plasterman's son ; I'll show him my fist— that will show him his master, If you ever think of you two mak- ing one ; Och ! if you but have him — by Jove Tie will catch it I'll write „ him a challenge, tho' he be in jail ? 78 COMIC SONGS. And I'll break his nose, so that he never will match it — Then wont you become lovely Mrs. O'Neal. Whack, &c. Then if you wont have me I'll lisht for a soldier, I'll be kilt, or be pinsion'd, och, then how 3 r ou'll feel. Sure whether you be a housekeeper or lodger, That you were not born to be Mrs. O'Neal ! With my wounds, and my wooden legs how 1 will haunt you, ADout twelve at midnight then 'mur- ther,' you'll squeel, When I tell you that ghosts and hob- goblins do want you — So no more at present from— Phe- lim O'Neal. Whack, &c. BARNEY BRALLAGHAN'S COURTSHIP. *TWAS on a windy night, At two o'clock in the morning, An Irish lad so tight All wind and weather scorning, At Judy Callaghan's door Sitting upon the palings, His love tale he did pour, And this was part of his wailings — Only say You'll have Mister Brallaghan, Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan. Oh list to what I say, Charms you've got like Venus, Own your love you may, There's only the wall between us You lay fast asleep Snug in bed and snoring, Round the house I creep Your hard heart imploring. Only say, &c. I've got nine pigs and a sow ; I've got a sty to sleep 'em ; A calf and a brindled cow, And got a cabin to keep 'em, Sunday hose arid coat, An old grey mare to ride on, Saddle and bridle to boot, Which you may ride astride on. Only say, &c. I've got an old Tom cat, Thro' one eye he's staring"; I've got a Sunday hat, Little the worse for wearing ; I've got some gooseberry wine, The trees had got no riper on. I've got a fiddle fine, Which only wants a piper on. Only say, &c. I've got an acre of ground, I've got it set with pratees ; I've got of backey a pound, And got some tea for the ladies; I've got the ring to wed, Some whiskey to make us gaily, A mattress feather bed, And a handsome new shelalah, Only say, &c. You've got a charming eye, You've got some spelling and read- ing, You've got and so have I, A taste for genteel breeding You're rich, and fair, and young, As every body's knowing; You've got a decent tongue, Whene'er 'tis set a going. Only say, &c. for a wife till death, I am willing to take ye — But, och, I waste rny breath, The Devil himself can't wake ye ; 'Tis just beginning to rain, So I'll get under cover, I'll come to morrow again And be your constant lover. Only say, &c. WERRY RIDICULOUS ! ; OR, MISS JULIA'S ANSWER TO MR. NICHOLAS. YOU'VE heard Mr. Nicholas say of his Julia, There was summut about her so wer- ry pecooliar : But 1 wish, being now in the answer- ing way, To his feature I might a like compli- ment pay ; He was short, and snub-nos'd, and a himperent fellow, And his teeth ! as the glove on his hand, was as yellow, When he grinn'd, what a bull-and- mouth iaw had Young Nicholas! Not only disgusting, but werry ridi- culous. COMIC SONGS. 79 Spoken.] Wery ridiculous! wery ridiculous, indeed ! Not only disgusting, but weiy ridi- culous. He tells you the fact, how we met at a ball, And he was my partner, or have none at all : But, lauks ! I was hurt at his being polite. He thought me an angel, I thought him a fright : If I lisp'd him a question, — now wasn't it shocking — He lisp'd me an answer, as if he were mocking : I blush'd — and he thought it was love, did young Nicholas ; Tvras but at his dancing, so wery ri- diculous. Spoken.] Wery ridiculous ! wery ri- diculous, indeed ! 'Twas but at his dancing — so wery ridiculous. Ye Gods ! only judge of my woe, when to dance, He bowing; and scraping one night did advance, With • woulez wous da?iser?' — by which he did mean, * Will you be my partner V — Oh! judge of the scene ! The wretch had approach'd me — it really was shocking — In black tights that ended in white cotton stocking ; My heart was too hurt to reprove Mr. Nicholas, Though his conduct, you'll own, was most monstrous ridiculous ! Spoken.] Monstrous ridiculous! — most monstrous ridiculous, indeed ! Though his conduct, you'll own, was most monstrous ridiculous. I rose from my seat, and bade him depart, "With a look that ought soon to have broken his heart ; But still he persisted, and said, * Ah, provoker 1 You don't mean to dance with young Balls, the Pawnbroker!' • I've pledged myself to him,' said 1> * for the night, ,, He capers in nankeens and stocking* of white ; While you — Oh, disgusting ' — Away, Mr. Nicholas ! Your magpie-like legs are so wery ridiculous '' Spoken.] \\ ery ridiculous ! wery ridiculous, indeed. Your magpie-like legs are so wery ridiculous. I danc'd all the night, and I flirted my fan, With young Mr. Balls, the dear deli- cate man : As dancing I'm fond of, I think you'll agree, A pawnbroker was the best partner for me ; So I've married, to make the wretch happy I'm sure, And we've plenty of balls — with three '" over the door — While pining, and lisping I've left Mr. Nicholas, His horrid black breeches were far too ridiculous. Spoken.] Wery ridiculous so wery ridiculous, indeed ! Those horrid black breeches were far too ridiculous. EACH THING PROV'D TO ME A MISFORTUNE. Tune. — Garry Owen. ABOU/T the day I was born, though it was late at night. The nurse she soon tenderly saw all was right, For she loved me so much, and she kept me so tight, So snug in a cot was my portion, But howsom'dever as soon you will hear, As I grew up all betwixt hope and fear, I longed and I wanted, though 1 did not care For a wife, O, what a misfortune. Each step that I took to accomplish my plan, So unlucky 1 was that they proved all in vain, But 1 .thought that to me it would be all the same, If a wife I got by seduction. That thought being fixed I directly begfio 80 COMIC SONGS. To write a long letter to my lovely Fan, And hoping e'er long that I should be a man, But, no, it was not my good for- tune. v The letter I sent, and a meeting I begg'd, In her own father's garden, 'twas no sooner said, Than she promised at twelve, but O ! O ! my leg Was caught in my happy endea- vour ; Men traps being set, 'tis a terrible snare, And really I do think it very un- fair, I'm sure you'd have laughed to see me sticking there. What a sad, what a shocking mis- fortune. Ere the morning came I was glad to return, But yet I was sorry for my heart did burn ; Next time I saw Fan how she did me spurn, To think I had not kept my pro- mise. In her head did not pop, not one mo- ment, the thought How I had been served, what had been my lot, 1 told her, but O, dear ! the answer I grot, I thought 'twas another misfortune. To me she'd say no ,more, although I begg'd hard, I fell on my knees, and 1 humbly implor'd, 1 promis'd her faithfully I'd keep my word, If she and me were united, So after a deal of a sort of a some- how, She promised with me to the parson to bow, : But no! just before, O lord, what a row, Always as befone in misfortune. The day being fix'd, ana the hour drawing near. T" I said, now if you will let me, my dear, " A coach I will get, for 'pon honor I fear The rain in torrents will pour soon. She said, yes ! do run, in a coach we will go, To what .you may hint I cannot, say, no, In each thing 'twill be proper that we agree, although You have so many misfortunes. I ran with all might, and soon a coach found, But just getting near I fell whack on the ground, I bawl'd and I halloo'd, my voice did resound Through the streets, to my Fanny I got soon. When she came up running in such a way, She said it was useless for me to say nay, She'd thump me, she thought that would repay Me, although 'twas only a misfor- tune. Resign'd to my fate I did get so com- plete, Yet I got so thin for I nothing could eat, Till at last I thought it better that 1 should retreat. And live solus alone for the future. Now all my misfortunes have ended at last, Regardless for ever I forget what is past, Yet hoping that you will not hiss me at last, If you do 'tis a lasting misfortune THE PADDINGTON COACHES. COME young men and maidens, and likewise your dads, Your attention a moment I wish to engage ; Come, come, then, my coveys, and fork out your brads, And just take a ride in the Pid- dington stage : From Paddington-green in a crack we take leave, At the Stingo a moment, a short time we stop ; To take up a cove at the Adam and Eve, COMIC SONGS. 81 We pull up the coach and call for a drop. If you wish for a drop, then hasten ..away, where they handle the [ribands, and tickle the prads ; For in our short stages they make no delay, But scamper away do we Paddiug- ton lads. But scamper away, &c. J Going up, marm — who's for the City ? — This way, marm — go- ing up ? Tell you vhat, Jim, she doesn't go wi' you, because you see the voman's going wi' me, and I starts afore you does. Vhy then, I'll tell you vhat, marm, if you goes with Hopposition Joe, 1 vouldn t insure your neck a safe arrival in the City. What! is he on the opposition side? Yes, marm, he is. Then I'll tell you what, sir, I'll go with you, for I doesn't like no opposition to nothing, and that my husband can vouch for. Dare say he can, marm. If I go with you, Mr. Coachman, you von't drive fast, vill you ? Oh no marm, my tits are as quiet as lambs. But, Mr. Coachman, did you never meet with any accident on the road ? Never, marm, but one, and that wa'n't my fau't ; it cost me a hog and a screen though. How was that Mr. Coachman ? Vhy, I'll tell you. marm — a young voman and a child took it into their foolish heads to valk under the vheels of my zoehicale, and they went dead — they tried me at Quarter Sessions for't, but the Jury said as how killing a voman was man- slaughter, and so by paying one pound one I got deliberated, Now's the time, sir, going up this vay. How long will it be, Mr. Coachman before you starts ! Not above a mi- nute, sir, the moment we give a blow up — I say Bill tip them a turn on the horn, vill you and then ve'll go dirictly. (Boy blows the horn.) My eye, how that 'ere fellow blows the horn! — 1 say my rum'un, how do you do it, ay ? Vhy vou see, my master, I'll tell you — Vhy you see I puts that 'ere hole to this here mouth, then this here vind goes into that 'ere horn, and this here mouth and that 'ere horn, vith this here vind together, makes a tune. Very explanatory, 'pon honour ; but I think I could do it. Vou'd you like to try, sir? Yes 1 should, veil, then, try, but mind how you does it. Very well, But are you sure you knows how ? Cer- tainly. Veil, then take it, and blow as hard as ever you can ; give it mouth and niver mind your vind ; go on, sir, ( Attempts to blow.) My vig, what a lot of vind it takes ! try again, sir, (Blows again, but horribly out of tune.) I say, what are you at t here ? you're spitting in my horn — that's half a gallon fine. Is it 1 why then you may pay for it, for I won't. You von't, but you vill though, or else you'll have aduck in this here horse trough, Why then, sooner than be duck'd in this here nasty horse trough I doesn't jmind paying for it; but I hope you'll give us a drop on't to drink. Come Coachee, aren't you off yet ; you've been here above five minutes. Vhy, ve're going directly we've had in this here gentleman's heavy wet that he lost. ( Smack of the whip heard.) Halloa, Jim ! why You're starting 'fore your time. Am 1 ? then you're starting behind it. Yes, but I'll soon be along side you — (Sets offy—Ya. hip ! st ! st ! Oh ! Mr. Coachman, what are you at there? What's the matter ma'am? Why, your furious driving has caused such a pain in my . Inside place, ma'am, So If you wish for a ride, &c. Ya hip ! then away in double quick pace, With our whips and beavers, we show 'em some play : In vain opposition with us try to chace, For we tip them the go-bye every day. Such coaches and coachmen are not to be seen But in Paddington road, where they merrily range ; The moment we ve started from Pad- dington-green. In one little half hour we're at the Exchange. Spoken.'] (Noise of breaking down.) Oh! my eye, Coachee, what's that! 82 COMIC SONGS. Only Paddington Sam what 'drives the Preserver upset, that's all. La ! 1 hope there's nobody hurt. Not above nine or ten ; but here they come. O my arm ! O my eye ! O, my head ! my thigh ! O, ma'am, what's the matter 1 What's the matter, you brute ? here's my arm completely dislocated, and 1 must have the limb amputated to save the rest of my body. Bless your body, ma'am, I couldn't help it. You could, you brute, and you shall be tried at the Quarter Sessions for assualt and battery of my person. 1 tell you ma'am, 1 couldn't help it; it vas all owing to Regency Dick vat drives the Veiling ton ; he vanted to get through Battle Bridge Gate afore me, vich vasn't fair ; so 1 touched my leaders under the flank, away they goes, for Dick doesn't drive such cat- tle as 1 does, but the moment we came through the gate, out came the linchpin, and off come the vheel, and down came we and the coach together, right under the dust hill : so you see, ma'am my loss is greater than yourn\ I'm sorry for the haccident you've met with, and 1 hope you'll take all these here things into your consideration, and remember the coachman. Remember you ! — that 1 shall, all the days of my life. Shall you 1 why then — If you wish for a Jide, &c. Like the papers, our coaches they must have a name, For nothing in these times without will go down ; There's the Regent and Wellington, whose great name They expect will attract all the town ; There's the Times and Observer are not far behind, And the Hope follows quick in the chace, And to Perserverance we all must be kind. So let tavour to merit give place. Spoken,] Come, coachee, aren'tyou off, yet ; you've been here above ten minutes. W by, we'll go directly the boy comes back with a ha'p'orth of whipcord — you see I've lost my lash. Pray, Mr. Coachman, have you got two insides 1 No, ma'am, only one. Beg pardon but you misunderstand me ; mean two inside places. Yes, ma'am I'm licensed to carry six ins and sixteen outs. What a many ins and outs you must have seen, Yes, and tips and downs too, ma'am. There that will, do, I'll get down here if you please, Mr. Coachman. Do, ma'am ; take care of your legs. La ! Mr. Coachman, what are all those men a- top of your coach, in black ? are they undertakers? No, ma'am, lawyers. Indeed! where did they come from 1 Can't tell, ma'am, but believe they're going to the Commons. Aye, aye, common enough, 1 dare sa3 T . Come, Coachee, why don't you go .along 1 Start directly. ( Horn J O, my eye, how fast your noises do go, Mr. Coachman ! what fine fat norses they are ! I say what do you give your norse to heat ? Hay, I said what do you give your norses to heat ''. Hay, O, the Coachee's deaf ! Challoes.) I say, what do you give your ?iorses to keatl Vhy, hay, to be sure. Oh! Then If you'd wish for a ride. &c. GOG AND MAGOG IN DAN- GER. FROM Bank, 'Change, Mansion- house, Guild-hall, Throgmorton, and Threadneedle, From London-stone, London-wall, When city housewives wheedle, To Brunswick, Russell, Bedford squares, And Portland- place their spouses ; Anxious to give themselves great airs Of fashion in great houses. Then Gog shall start, and Magog shall Tremble upon his pedestal. When merchant, banker, broker shake, In Crockford's Club their elbow, And for St. James's clock forsake The chiming of thy bells, Bow ; When Batson's, Garraway's, aud John's, At nig»ht show empty boxes, While cits are playing dice with dons, Or ogling opera doxies ; Then Gog, &c, COMIC SONGS. 83 #■■»*.»»■#*.#.**.». When city dames give routs, and reels ; I And ape high-titled prancers, When city Misses dance quadrilles, Or waltz with whisker'd lancers ; L When city gold is quickly spent In trinkets, feasts, and raiment, And none suspend their merriment, Until they all stop payment. Then Gog, &c. THE TWICKENHAM PARTY. Tune. — Devil among the tailors. I'LL tell you of a party who were going up to Twickenham, I rather think that rainy day of plea- suring will sicken 'em ; They'd lots of stuff, and grub enough, to help to squeeze and thicken 'em, And long neck'd Champagne bottles, with their resin'd c rks ! So much lumber, to encumber, Mrs. Spriggs was parting of 'em, Hoped they'd got a pleasure-barge, and hosses for the carting of 'em ; Accidents, they happen'd.sir, exactly at the starting of 'em ; Mrs. Wiggins sat upon the knives and forks. Jolly Major Timbertoe, who talk'd on any topic, sir, And ne'er forgot to recollect he'd been beneath the Tropic, sir. Pull'd his pocket Dollond out, for he was telescopic, sir. The pretty little fishes in the wave to spy. While peeping at the gudgeons small, and humming " Capt. Wattle," sir, A busy little gentleman to wet his thirsty throttle, sir, Through bungling with a corkscrew and an uppish champagne bottle, sir, Let the cork fly slap dash in the Major's eye. Lots of squalling, lots of bawling, like a noisy lottery. Voices creaking, like the doors of busy public notary, Women, with a hearty smack, as pans fly in a pottery, Of the brandy bottle did their comfort make. Widow Muggins pretty nearly tumbl- ed in the water, sir. Was held up by her petticoat and tlopkins and his daughter, sir, And Hopkins in a hurry . for she faint- ed when they caught her, sir, Sprinkled her, with pepper, in a sheer mistake. Scarcely at the dinner sat, wheu down the rain came showering, Fuller under Mrs. Fuller's Cobourg bonnet cowering, Rain was all the rosy and lily wreaths deflowering, They hasten'd to the cutter to re- turn pell-mell Like sugar, in a loving lump, together did they snoozle 'em, As happy as the Hebrews at the fall- ing of Jerusalem ; But, just when stepping in the boat, thro' terror Miss Gaphoosalem For certain put her foot in it, we knew by the smell. Mrs. Wiggins thought it was the gen- tlemen's connivances, To choose them such a rain3 r day, the worst of all contrivances ; Timbertoe, among his other very many grievances, Found his pocket telescope had zoaWd away. When they got to Westminster, but 'twasn't very early, sir, There they met with Mr. Searle, who never 3-et was surly, sir, Who, leering at the well-drench'd 1 is- appointed hurly burl3 T , sir, " Hop'd the merry party had a pleasant day !" PAT HOLLO W A Y. ARRAH, what a big nose had the bold Captain jSoraghan, Pat Holloway he pull'd it — till he made him to roar again. Whack fal de diddle, shoot him thro'the middle, Whack fal de diddle, well-a-day ; Whack fal de diddle, Captain, thro' the middle, Och, shoot Paddy Holloway Both they chose me their seconds, and 1 gave my word to both, For seconds m^n to two men is one man that's third to both. Whack fal, &c. 84 COMIC SONGS. We all met by a duck pond, cries bold Captain Noraghan, Pat Holloway, I'll shoot you, you never shall snore again. Whack fal, &c. The Captain miss'd Pat, for it was not a lucky shot ; Pat Holloway fired next, and a very fine duck he shot. Whack fal, &c. Then I stepp'din between 'em. 'twas full time to take it up, For a duel now is one shot a-piece, and then make it up. Whack fal de diddle, shot him thro' the middle, Whack fal de diddle, well -a-day ; Whack fal de daddle, shake each other's daddle, And fast friends they walk d a- way. DUET. He. WOMAN'S eye is the meteor flinging Its brightness to cheat and be- trav » • ., •„.- Her voice is the mermaid s sweet singing — A prelude to wreck and dis- may. She. Man's heart is the plaything of passion, By turns the proud tyrant and slave, He doats on — deserts with the fashion : A compound of idiot and knave. He. No longer a dupe to its beam- ing I follow the glittering snare . She. Awaken'd, at length, trom my dreaming. I'm free as the unprison'd air. xle. No more can its music delight me, Than Zephyr can waken a stone, She* Be sure, since thus boldly you slight me, No prayrs shall the insult atone. He. Woman's eye is the meteor 1 flinging, &c. t She. Man's Ireart is the pi ay thing I of passion, &c. J THE FUND OF AMUSEMENT. WHAT an overgrown place is this London, O dear ! The half of it yet 1 have not seen, or near: I read all the bills as I pass in the throng, And I think I can work them up into a song. I walk'd from Whitechapel up to Hyde Park, In ev'ry shop window there was something to mark ; & To ev'ry man that can walk up and down, There's a Fund of Amusement in great London tow This house to be sold or let upon lease ; The best wheaten bread ; and — Real bear's grease ; A grand masquerade at the Argyll Rooms : Most money given for rags, vials, and bones. The last new novels, that had such a run ; Messages taken, and porter's work done. Then to every man, &c. The stock of this shop selling undei prime cost; A child, three years old, was yester- day lost: Mulligatawny and turtle soup : Music and dancing taught ; — Good yellow soap. Robbery last night, twenty guineas reward ; — A chaise and a pony to let down this yard. Then to every man, &c. There's boats from the Tower to Mar- gate by steam ; New water companies: — Fine milk and cream ; — Gentlemen's clothes here mended with care ; Wellington boots, ten shillings per pair. COMIC SONGS. 85 Bligh, licensed dealer in spirits and wine ; — Hot baked sheep's heads, from seven till nine. Then to every man, &c. A catalogue of goods for the next two days sale ; Real Eppi.ng sausages; — Edinbro' ale: A charity sermon to De preach'd next Sunday morn ; Hunt's matchless blacking, and fine roasted corn. Goods carefully removed ; — Fine silk hats ; — To the new coffee rooms; — Beware of steel traps. Then to every man, &c. To be let, unfurnished, a good second floor ; — No connection at all with the tailor next door ; Bugs carefully destroyed ; — J?'ine new laid eggs ; Real Welch mutton; and — Cheap feather beds. A grand gala, to night, at Vauxhall ; To be sold, the goodwill of a cobler's stall. Then to every man, &c. Try Dr. Eady ; and— Hoffman's pills ; Piano fortes tuned ; — Stick no bills ; Real India pickles ; — Dealer in foreign silk ; — Orders taken in for asses' milk. Rubbish shot here; — Office for life insurance ; — A dress-maker wanted ; — Commit no nuisance. Then to every man, &c. The wild beasts fed every night at nine ; — Ready-made coffee; — Shirts super- fine ; Mr. Lance, surgeon ; Surgery bell ; — Mangling done here ; — Straw bonnets cleaned well. Dining rooms up stairs ; — Money lent here ; — Charles Wright's champagne ; — Very good table beer. To every man, &c. CHAPTER ON NOSES. 'TIS a very queer thing I am going to sing. As you'll find, ere x come to a, close, Whether mankind, all those who are blind, Are the better or worse for a nose. I've bother'd my brains, and taken great pains To grapple each thought as it rose, And now, as you'll find, I have made up my mind, A man is a gainer by losing his nose. A good reason is here, it makes him see clear, At least so I think and suppose, As if he is wise, he'll go by his eyes, For he never can follow his nose. He bears without rout the loss of his snout, It does not exempt him from woes ; But into the cares of his neighbour's affairs, He ne'er can be poking his nose, And tho' in his dress, he cannot do less Than wear, just like other folks, clothes ; Pocket handkerchiefs he does without and we see Theie's a saving in soap, for he ne'er blows his nose ; And to say it I'm bold, if he catches a cold, By winds, by rains, or by snows. He may make his heart glad, for tho' ever so bad, He's never stuffed up in his nose. He smokes well enough, though he cannot take snuff, And when he's inclined for a dose, He sits in his chair, goes to sleep with- out care, For no one can tickle his nose. And farther, now m rt rk, if he runs in the dark, Tho' darkness will many folks pose He may by surprise, knock out both his eyes, But you know very well that he can't break his nose. Should he drink day and night, and in liquor delight, Till he cannot stand upon his toes ; 86 COMIC SONGS. Tho' his neighbours may say, what- ever they may, They can't say that he's got a red nose. If he gets a nick name, he comes off the same They can't call him " Nosey" he knows ; And tho' he is vex'd and by trouble perplex'd, He never can bite off his nose. And tho' his false friends, for their own private ends, His suspicions may lull to repose, Disappointment they'll gain, and fine it in vain, And useless to try to lead him by the nose : Nay more — this is sure, if he's rich or he's poor, When fighting with five or six foes, He'll bear off the belle, for proud I'm to tell, N ot one can take him by the nose. Perhaps you'll surmise he'll be weak in the eyes. But ere blind he entirely goes ; Think with what grace he bedecks his odd face, With a bran, span, new, famous false nose. With spectacles on, he looks quite like a Don, And his head up he tosses and throws ; His mind to amuse, he reads over the news, Whilst all folks admire his astonish- ing nose. He smiles at each scoff, takes his spectacles off, Not minding the " Ah's" nor the " Oh's," But firmly does stand, puts up his right hand, And silently pockets his nose. OH! NO, I NEVER NAME MY WIFE. Air. — Oh ! no we never mention her, OH ! no, I never name my wife, But let her lie at rest ; Although she used to pull my nose, Now 1 am truly blest ; Each morn for cash she'd worry me. To purchase heavy -wet; And how she stagger'd home at eve I never shall torget. I strove to find in change of scene A tranquil hour or two, But if, alas ! she found me out, She'd thump me black and blue. Tis true, 1 now appear no more With eyes as black as jet, But how the poker she could wield, I never can forget. They hint that she is happy now, F sooth and so am 1, And as she can return no more 'Twere wrong in me to sigh. When I prepared to bury her, And friends and neighbours met, The sort of sorrow I then felt I never can forget. HERE'S HEALTH TO THE LADIES. Tune— The Bonnets of Blue. HERE'S health to the ladies at hame, Here's health to the ladies awa', And wha winna pledge it with a' their soul, May thej- never be smil'd on at a', It's guid to be pretty and fair, It's guid to be smilin' like you ; It's guid to be stealin' the gentlemen's hearts — But na by broad bonnets of blue. Awa' wi' those bonnets of blue, Those Brobdignag bonnets of blue It's guid to be stealin' the gentlemen's hearts — But na by sic bonnets of blue. Here's health to the bright eyes at hame, Here's health to the bright eyes awa', Here's health to the beauties of every clime, — But na' to broad bonnets at a'. I've a bracelet for her wha is wed, — For the maiden a sweet billet doux; Dear darlings Fd gie them whate'er they might ask. — Except a broad bonnet of blue. Then hence wi' those bonnets of blue, Those Brobdignag bonnets of blue ! Oh ! bright eyes beam brighter' from bonnets when sma' Than hid by broad bonnets of blue. COMIC SONGS. 87 OLD ENGLAND ! GOD BLESS HER! Air. — The king God bless him. Now a bumper of wine come fill, fill around, In our toast you will doubtless bear part; For no faithful Briton has ever been found, To refuse to his country his heart. Though princes may boast of their goblets more rare, To mirth this shall ne'er be de- presser ; We've sincerity — for what else need we care, — Here's joy to old England ! God bless her ! Yes ! the land of our birtn, let that be our toast ; Her brave people, her laws and her king, And fair liberty too, . our especial ''boast, Her praises we will not fail to sing. May our country in war victorious prove ; In peace, this fine feeling possess her, To bind her sons' hearts in a concord of love ; — Here's joy to oldEqgJapd ! God bless her! PARSON STUMP. Tune. — Chapter of Noses. O ! LOVE'S such a comical thing, the folks say, It perplexes the young and the old ; But when it's too hot it does soon melt away. And like butter it does soon get cold. From the prince to the beggar it does so enslave,' And alike it does all so control ; Though much has been said still after it we crave, For love finds the wav to the soul. Fol lofde lol, &c. It once found its way to a reverend so grave, Parson Stump, I have heard, was his name. "Who pray'd once a week for sinners to save, But his prayers for himself were in vain. Twice a day on a Sunday this par- sou would go To church, with such sanctified grace ; With his old wooden stump he would hobble, just so, Right and left with a pretty quick pace. Fol lol de lol, &c. But in the same village, Tim Frizzle did dwell, "Whose wife dearly lov'd Parson Stump ; She lov'd him because his discourse did excel All others, — besides he'd a hump. This reverend divine oft at Frizzle's would call. To chaunt Mrs. Frizzle a stave ! But he very soon sigh'd out a love tale withal, And at last he poor Frizzle did shave. Fol lol de lol, &c. It happened one day, whilst frizzling a wig, In the closet Tim heard a strange noise ; His hair stood an end, and his heart it swell'd big, For he'd heard of Stump's frolick ingjoys. He, armed cap-a-pee, to the closet did go, In his fist he fast clenched the hot tongs ; When he spied Mrs. F. on the knee, you must know, Of the parson, to sing divine songs. Fol lol de lol, &c. Tim, with the hot tongs, caught Stumpy so tight, That he nearly set fire to his breech ; Which caused him to bawl in a terri- ble fright, And soon made him for mercy "be- seech ! But now if this sanctified parson does call On the good folks to chaunt divine songs, The wicked young urchins do after him bawl, 88 COMIC SONGS. " parson Stump, recollect the hot tongs I" Fol lol de lol, &c. The ladies, alas ! that did Stump so admire Now blush at his frolicking joys ; And poor Stump very olten gets pelt- ed with mire, And leads a sad life with the boys. Now I trust, pious dames, you'll of parsons beware, For they're not always saints to be found ; In such sanctified faces there s oft much to fear, And, like Mrs. F, you may fall to the ground. Fol lol de lol, &c. DUET. He COME, give us thy hand, lass, The bargain is made. — She Agreed; and my heart I give with it. He I'll make a good husband. She Oh ! I'm not afraid. He Then let parson, in church, our hearts rivet. She But, when I'm thy wife Mind, I thy mistress will be ; He And I measter. — the thought makes me sniggle. She And if, in our cottage. Dull care we e'er see, — He Why, we'll fright him away a giggle. Both Ha, ha, ha, ha! — Ha, ha, ha, ha! We'll fright him away wi' a giggle. He I'll away, buy the ring : But stop, ere I go, One kiss for the ring you will sure sell. She Hands off, Mr. Mangel ! He Oh ! doan't ye say so. She Not a kiss, till I'm made Mrs. Wurzel. He Well, that'll soon be Then, oh dear, what a game! When round us the young Wur- zels sniggle Six boys and six girls — She Mr. Wurzel, for shame! He To hear them all join in the gig- gle. Both Ha, ha, ba, ha!— Ha, ha, ha, ha! To hear them all join in the giggle. A NEW COMIC MEDLEY. OH ! here I be a country lad, So do not on me frown, sir I've left my mother and my dad, For — 'Tis a very queer thing I'm going to sing, As you'll find ere I come to the close, Whether mankind, all those that are blind, Are the better or worse for a — Walk, walk Hyde-Park, and Bond- street, sir, Or if parade the Serpentine border, You will discover b3' ladies you meet, sir, That— There was an old chap in the west countree A flaw in his lease the lawyers had found , 'Twas all about selling — A little old woman once lived by herself, In a garret so monstrously high ; Her cupboard was lin'd, well stor'd was each shelf, And in a sly pocket she'd plenty of pelf To get a drop of — Brandy, give us brandy, Oh ! the doctor say 'tis good, When its on the table handy, Drink it all 1 know you — When I was bound an apprentice, in fam'd Zummerzetshire, I served my master truly, for almost seven year, Till 1 took up to — Miss Nicholls lodged . on the first floor, She clean'd and mended straw bon- nets All day, but at night she did pore O'er — A goblet of Burgundy fill, fill for me, Give those who prefer it Cham- pagne, But whatever the wine, it a bumper must be, If we ne'er drink— COMIC SONGS. 89 A hermit who dwells in these soli- tudes crossed me, As way-worn and faint up the mountain I press'd, The aged man paus'd on his staff to ac- cost me, And proffered his cell — To my village fair, no lass can com- pare, For innocence and native grace ; She boasts not — Of all dat strive to live and thrive, And by cunning to o'er reach man, Veder trade ben dead, or trade ben alive, De best trade of all is — A spruce little tailor, one Mr. John Lowe, Walk'd the Custom-house quay on a Sunday ; His dress was the pink of the fashion and go, When he met with — My wife she is de wonder quite, as you will plainly see, Her name at length I cannot write, but call her — A sly old fox once chanced to spy, Fal, lal, lal. Some nice young grapes that did hang high, Fal, lal, lal. And as they hung they seem'd to say — To all young ladies now on land, We men at sea indite ; But first would have you understand, How hard it is to write, The muses now and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you. With a fal, lal, lal. SECOND PART. IT happen'd one day to old father's joy, Mother was brought to bed with a very fine boy, They quickly sent round to let the folks know, They meant to christen me Billy Barlow. Oh ! dear— 'Twas on a windy night, At two o'clock in the morning, An Irish lad so tight, All wind and weather scorning At Judy Callaghan's door, t>«.rr-hM upon— The mountain maid from her bower has hied, And sped to the glossy river side, Where the radiant moon shone — Far under land, far under wave, A tunnel they are boaring, 'Mid gravelly grounds where — The rose will cease to blow, The eagle turn a dove, The streams will cease to flow, Ere: — I'd be a butterfly, bofn in a bower, Where roses, and lilies, and violets meet ; Roving for ever from flower to flow- er, Kissing — Ben was a Hackney Coachman rare, Jarvey, Jarvey, here I am, your honour, Crikey, how he used to swear, — Tam- maroo, How he'd swear, and how he'd — Draw the sword, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland ; Over moor and mountain hath past — The tired soldier bold and brave, Nor rest his wearied feet : And to the shelter of the grave, Hath made — You all knew Tom Moody, the whip- per-in, well, The bell just done tolling, was honest Tom's knell ; A more able sportsman ne'er followed a hound, Through a country well known to — Old England thy Stamina never hath yielded, To the ills that have menac'd thee abroad or at home, And whilst all thy energy noblv hath wielded, Triumphant thou still shaU sup- port — Mvnheer Vandunck, though he never ' ^ot drunk, Sipp'd brandy and water gaily, And he quenched his thirst with two quarts of Here's a health to them that's awa, Here's a health to t&em that's awa. And wha winna wish guid luck to — When winter chains from shore to shore, 90 COMIC SONGS But I don't mean to tell you her name. No, no, no, no, I don t me^an to tell you her name. There's dusty Will, and massa black Bill, They try aye again and again, To win my lass, with a thumping glass, But they'll find all their labour in vain. . It was t other night, when engaged in a fight, She mill'd two poor Charlies, what a shame ! And they ask'd me to tell, 'cause I know'd her well, But says I, 1 von't tell you her name. No, no, &c. Says Charley, my r.ian, we'll do all we can, And try if we can't make you say ; So a lodging so tight they gave me that night, And I went before the beak next day. But 1 was not afraid, although they said, A month in Clerkenwell will him tame ; They threatened to the mill, says I do what you will, I don't mean to tell you her name. No, no, &c. THE BEAUTY HUNTER. Tune. — Chapter of Accidentts. I AFTER beauty always seek, Where'er 1 hear it's found, sir ; So t'other day, in Regent street I heard it did aboun, sir. At night, up there 1 bent my way, Resolv'd to have a peep, sir, At tho goddess, who they say, Lives among the sweets, sir, Follollol,&c. All through the rain 1 bent my way, And got a cursed coaking ; — Ever since that dreadful day I've constantly been eroaking, 1 saw a mob stand round the door About a hundred strong, sir ; The waves in its icy fetters, On rivers and lakes, when ycur la- bour is o'er Pretty maids you may — Stand to your guns my hearts of oak, Let not a word on board be spoke, Victory soon shall crown the joke, Be silent and — Behold the Britannia how stately and brave She floats on — A damsel stood to watch the fight, On the banks of Kingslea mere, They brought to her — The bailiffs are coming, oh, dear ! oh, dear ! The bailiffs are coming, oh, dear ! oh, dear! I dare not stir out and I feel very queer. The bailiffs are coming — When a man's a little bit poorly, He makes a fuss, Wants a nurse. Thinks he's going to die most surely, Sends for — A catalogue of goods for the next two days sale ; Real Epping sausages ; — Fine Burton ale; To let unfurnished a good second floor No connection at all with the tailor next door. Bugs destroyed ; — Fine silk hats ; To the new coffee rooms; — Beware of steal traps. Then to every man who can walk up and down, There's a Fund of- Amusement in great London town. THE CATS'-MEAT LASS'. Air. — With my village fair. THERE my cats' meat lass no one can surpass In voice she's so sweet and so clear ; While she bawls, cats'-meat nice, a penny a slice, And that we all know can't be dear. Such fat brawny arms ; in her face, oh ! what charms, Her cheeks like Dutch cheeses are the same ; And black eyes 'tis very rare that she has not a pair, COMIC SONGS. 91 And quickly came as many more, Else 1 calculated wrong, sir. Fol lol lol, &c. 1 determined not to lose the sight, There come all my woes, sir ; I put the ladies in a fright By treading on their toes, sir. ■ On my shoulder do not lounge," — " I'm very nearly stew'd, sir ;" — " Oh i for goodness sake don't scrouge. " I think you're very rude, sir." Fol lol lol, &c. At last, " she comes," the mob did cry, Oh.! 'what a cursed riot ! They the watchmen did defy, For they would not be quiet, At length I got a peep at her, While the rain my head anointed, Sorry that I'd come so far, For I was disappointed. Fol lol lol, &c. THE DANCING MASTER'S DE- SCRIPTION OF A BATTLE. I'VE carried arms through lands afar, France, Italy, and Spain ; , And many a wound and many] a scar, I carry home again. I never loved a single lot, The more the merrier chance ; So the women I courted the men 1 shot, And the girls I taught to dance. It happened once I called a dance, My musket in my hand ; The troops were ordered to advance, And all to heed command. Now here the plaguy chance admire, As strange as e'er you read of ; — The Serjeant called — Present Arms! Fire ! I did, and shot my partner's head off. O ! then what a hurry skurry, My ruin they seemed to delight in ; 'Twas hard to decide in the flurry, Who was dancing and who was fighting. In came the soldiers, Head and shoulders; Helter skelter, Routing, shouting, Crossing, forming, Charging, storming. Now they foot it, left .and right, Now tney're out of order quite ; Bend and sink, but not so low, Now they're all too much of a row. Forward hop, Backward pop ; There they go. Toe and heel now they jumble, Now they reel, now they stumble ; Now advance, What's the dance 1 Order handy, Drops of brandy ; Stand at ease, Buttered peas ; Now parade, White cockade; To right wheel, Duncan's reel ; To the left dress, Mad Bess ; Rank and file, Mouth of the Nile ; Fall back, Paddy Whack; Order arms, ^ Sukey's charms ; W. eel to the rignt, Jack's delight ; March away, Devil to pay ; Fire a volley, Charming Molly. Fire away, soldiers, fire, away, sailors. Play the Devil among the Tailors ; Cling, clang, bang, bang, crittie, crattle, How folks dance about in a bat- tle. GOING A PLEASURING. Tune. — Fireman waterman. SAYS Buttock, one day, to his wife, As a pound of beef-steaks he was selling, " What a pity it is, dearest life, The fresh air ve can never be smell- ing. I should like just for vonce for a treat, And to morrow you know ve have leisure in, And so, my lamb, if you think meet 92 COMIC SONGS. +■■»»■**■*■+■»■+++■++■»+*+++**; To-morrow ve'll go out a pleasur- ing." Tol de rol, &c. Mrs. Buttock soon gave her consent, So they borrow'd a neighbour's shay cart, sir : To cut a swell it was their intent, The time soon arrived to depart, sir. With a breast full of pleasure, good lack ! Old Buttock then handed his trea- sure in ; Took the reins, gave his whip a .bud crack, And set off that hoar a pleasuring. Tol de rol, &c. Mrs. Buttock proposed on the road, As her husband was light as a fea- ther, sir, They might chance from the gig to be throw' d, So they'd better be both tied togeth- er, sir : For she was so monstrously big, *Round her corpus I'm sure three yards measuring. That her weight might o'er balance the gig, And to die alone wouldn't be plea- suring. Tol de rol, &c. Not far on the road had they sped, When a boy start'd by with a kite, sirs; At which the horse pranc'd up, and fled Like an arrow along, with the fright, sirs. Old Buttock cried, " zooa," in vain, But his wife's fear was far beyond measuring ; Whilst no one their mirth could re- strain, But cried out, "that's going a plea- suring." •Tol de rol, &c. Along the road still the horse fled ? Till a-top of a hill he had got, sirs, 'Neath which a foul ditch met their v ew, Says Buttock, " we shall both go to pot, sirs :" And scarce had he spoke, when, a- lack ! The horse pranced and upset his treasure in ; And as Buttock was tied to her back, In the ditch he went with her a pleasuring. Tol de rol, &c. In the mud for an hour or more, This couple was forced for to floun- der ; When some people their carcases bore, To the pump, and there gave them a drownder, Half dead, and quite wet to the skin, As their way home they sadly were measuring, They wish'd if they rode out agin, That old Satan might join them a pleasuring. Tol de rol, &c. QUITE CORRECT AND NO MISTAKE. Tune. — The Poachers. ALTHOUGH a country clown I be, I give some decent rubs, And seldom are a chap get's free, What treats me with their snubs ; My homely jokes are blunt and plain 1 cry if vex'd they be, Oh, its quite correct and no mistake, Then let the joke go free. A lawyer he once said to me, Now tell me if you can, Who is a fool, and who a rogue ? Says I, I'm just the man, The lawyer is brogue that's sure, A fool his client be : Oh, its quite, &c. The doctor once prescrib'd me drugs, And tried to force them down, 1 spurn'd his physic, mock'tl his snrugs, Which made the fellow frown ; Says he, my patients ne'er complain, Noa graves noa tell-tale be : Oh, its quite, &c. Whilst humming of a tune one day, The squire, his jeers did fling ; Did you ne'er hear a jackass bray, Or note a cuckoo sing ? Lord, yes, I've heard your hono/ oft. 1 JBut don't offended be : Oh, its quite, &c COMIC SONGS. 93 , »,+,* ++, ,,,r*r*r*****r * + m» m<+ ***m»**t A dandy he once said to me, How much will buy an ass ? Then in his sleeve began to grin,— Thinks 1, ye shall not pass ; Lord love ye, sir, they'll nothing fetch,— I mean such ones as ye : Oh, its quite, &c. Thus jibes and jeers I parry off, Which folks at me let fly, And turn the joke upon themselves, 'Tis best who can deny ; So when they think to quiz the clown They get the wipe d'ye see : Oh, its quite, &c. PARISH LAWS ; OR, THE BUSY CONSTABLE. TUNE. — I never says nothing to no- body. I'M a constable true you must know, And I lives too in Mary-le-bone ; My authority often I show, For my fortune 'twill make very soon, I care not what people may say, While my person and pocket I cherish ; And do that we certainly may. Such laws we have got in our parish. Each morning, when on the lookout, We run every mob to surprise ; The boys we all put to the rout, And the men we all collar like- wise. To the office, 1 swears with a frown, I'll take 'em for breeding a riot ; But if they tips me half-a-crown, Why I tells 'em to go home in quiet. There's the beggars, I make 'em lug out, If they in my way ever falls : The old women I put to the rout, With their cabbage and gooseberry stalls. By them I must also be paid, Or 1 home with their cabbages pop ; For you know I'm a tailor by trade, And my wife keeps a green-grocer's shop. There's the muffin-boy too, t'other day, I firr-d him for ringing his bell ; The carrier too, I made pay, The dustman and postman as well, I'm determined to have 'em all round 1 care not although they are storm- ing ; For his worship he fines 'em a pound, And you know 1 gets half for in- forming. There's the publicans all of a row, When in my memorandum I look ; But if any has tip'd that I know, Why 1 scratches his name from the book. Though the summonses may have gone round, As I don't wish to sack all the pelf If they likes to tip me a pound, Why I pays for the summons my- self. But if they should think us to beat, Or at our decision should grumble, We fine 'em five pounds for a treat, So teach 'em at once to be humble. But should they resist, and still try, The nob of his worship to trouble it, Oh ! theii courage we soon satisfy, For we fine 'em five pounds, and then double it. I'm determin'd the landlords to rout, And make 'em shut up at their time ; So often at night I walk out. To prevent the increase of such crime. If intruding I any one see, I swears that in future I'll curb 'em, Unless they are civil to me, Then I thinks it a sin to disturb 'em. Now I think these are very good laws So I'll give you advice 'ere I've done; Don't let me get you in my claws, Or I'll make you pay dear for your fun. But if you're iuchh'd for a row, You'd better begin on the Mondays, Fof this I musftfU you just now. We always charge double on Sun davs. 94 COMIC SONGS. BOW, WOW, WOW. COME listen, my friends, to an odd dog's new story, Who tells you of his race's preten- sions to glory ; For dogs may be found now in every rank or station, Since puppies are caress'd by the first of the nation, Bow, wow, wow, fal lal de riddys bow, wow, wow. A flatterer's a cringing dog, he always is a fawning, An alderman's a sleepy dog and al- ways is a yawning ; A methodist's a howling dog, his cant he's always whining out, And lawyers are mischievous dogs, they tear your pocket lining out. Bow, wow, wow. A swindler is a sorry dog he always lives by cheating, And" frenchmen they are nimble dogs they run from every beating : A soldier is a noble dog, in every rank and station, And sailors they are hearty dogs as any in the nation, Bow, wow, wow. A truant he's a hempy dog, and well deserves a horsing, And fiddlers they are hungry dogs, they live by guts and rosin ; A miser is a thrifty dog, and saves an inch of candle, And coxcombs are lap dogs, for pret- ty maids to dandle. Bow, wow, wow. A tailor is a setting dog, and all his game is goose, sir, A hu band is a tether'd dog, he's fasten'd in a noose, sir : A cuckold he's a common dog, as all your wives can tell you, And gluttons they are cramming dogs they love you tor there belly. Bow, wow, wow. A lover is a sighing dog, without his dear delight, sir, And bullies thev are swaggering dogs they bark, but never bite, sir ; A landlord is a scoring dog, he chalks you two for one, sir, And nabobs they are cruel dogs, they millions have undone, sir. Bow, wow, wow. A barber hej^ a prating dog, he talks of state affairs, sirs, And crams your ears with politics, whilst combing out your hair, sir ; A doctor is a grave dog, with wig of awful size, sir, And drapers they are sad dogs, they tell a heap of lies, sir. Bow, wow, wow. A justice is a wary dog, and sits in chair at ease, sir, And whilst clerk the warrant draws, he pockets all the fees, sir ; A vicar is a tithing dog, with belly- like a butt, sir, And quakers they are prim dogs, with coats of formal cut, sir. Bow, wow, wow, Freemasons they are social dogB, they pack with one accord, sir, And what they do within the lodge, they never bark abroad, sir ! Bowlers they're vociferous dogs, they bark away in stile, sir, With rub, rub, rub, run, run, run, you're short by half a mile, sir. Bow, wow, wow. A curate he's a rambling dog, and winds in many a place, sir, A rector he's a snug dog, and seldom shews his face, sir ; A dean he is a barking dog, he racks the chancellor's brain, sir, But, made a bishop, he's a dog, that never barks again, sir. Bow, wow, wow. The minor canon, he's a dog known by the name of lurcher, He'd rather preach in dining-rooms than in an abbey church, sir ; Prebends they are water dogs, but of a race divine, sir, For diving deep in residence, they swim away in wine, sir. Bov\ wow, wow. The play-house too is full of dogs, who please you with their mummery, The manager's a dancing dog, and tickles you with flummery; The side-box beaux are critic dogs, they every fault are marking, The gods above are noisy dogs, they alwavs are a barking. Bow, wow, wow. COMIC SONGS. 95 The gamester is a shuffling dog, he tricks you with the cards, sir, And ibailiffs they are griping dogs they bite you devilish hartl, sir ; A rake he is a jolly dog, whom all the ladies fancy, And I am your faithful dog, as any here you can see. Bow, wow, wow. THE LIGHT CIGAR. Air. — The Light Guitar. OH, leave the inns, the courts of law, The halls where words run high ; Nor care a fig for brief or flaw, Or clients heaving sigh : As we surround the cheerful blaze, No scold our mirth shall mar ; We'll chaunt the songs of boyish, days, And smoke a light cigar. I'll tell you how a maiden swooned, A maid of monstrous size : And how she fell upon the ground, And darken'd both her eyes. I'll tell you how a crowd drew nigh. Who heard her screams afar ; And if it make you pipe your eye, We'll smoke a light cigar. I'll tell you how this maiden shriek'd When to the watch-house ta'en ; And tell you how she fought and kick'd But fought and kick'd in vain. And if we find at peep of day, Fatigue our spirits mar ; We'll pay the bill, haste home, a- way, And smoke a light cigar. IRELAND'S THE NATION OF SHELLELAGH-LAW. Tune.— Paddy G* Carroll. OCH! Ireland the place is for Grecians and graces, For sweetest of faces the world ever saw ; For fighting genteely and drinking too freeJy, Potatoes so mealy, and sweet usque- baugh. Och ! the Paddies are rare ones, the ladies are fair ones, And no one there dare once to say they are not, If Barney were by now, his cudgel would ply now, And make him soon fly now, as quick as a shot. For he's of the nation of civilization, Of sweet botheration and shellelagh* law : Och ! a good tough scull-breaker's the best of all speakers, Singfilliloo! hubbubboo ! Erin go- braugh ! Sweet Judy O'Connor, a maid of true honour, So neatly I won her at Donny brook- fair, From Paddy M'Fingal, an Ulster- man single, Who came in a iingle, and sported her there. Och ! Judy, I cried now, how can you ride now, And have at your side now, such a bandy-legged knave 1 Och ! cried Paddy, Barney, pray give us no blarney, Or, faith ! I'll soon learn ye, now how to behave. To the sprig of the nation, &c. Pat's cudgel was handy, and though he was bandy, He was quite the dandy in love or a fight ; He gave me a topper, — I gave him a wop per, It was such a stopper it stopper his mouth quite: His courage was all out, he murder did bawl out, " An' why did we fall out, sweet Barney, my joy ?" Och ! if you'd know _why now, for Judy I'd die now,^ Take that in your eye now, dear Paddy, my boy. For I'm of the nation, &c. So Judy I caught her, but very soon after, She did die a martyr to whiskey so strong ; There was a grand making at sweet Judy's waking, Lights, whisky, and cake in galore the night long: 96 COMIC SONGS. As Judy did lie now, her friends all did cry now — " Och ! why did you die now, and leave us to night V Till, with liquor o'ertaken, we got to heads breaking, And finished the wake in — a row and a fight. For we're of the nation, &c. BILLY BARLOW. O WHEN I w is born says old Mother Goose He is a fine boy, but he'll be of no use; My father he said that to church I should go, And there he had me christened Billy Barlow. O dear, lackaday, O ! My father he said I came from a good breed, So he sent me to school' for to learn me to read But because 1 could not tell all my letters at once, They put me on a focl's-cap, and called me a dunce O dear, lackaday O ! One day my mother, O Billy, says she, Will you go and fetch me some milk tor my tea ; But going along, I broke the milk pot, And when I got home what a wop- ping I got. O dear, lackaday, O ! As I walk thro' the streets, I can't tell for why The boys they point at me, saying — " there goes a Guy !" 'Twas only last night, very well I re- member, They said that they'd burn me next 5th of Wovernber, O dear lackaday,, O ! O then, there's my brother, I did him displease He gave me soap to eat, and said it was cheese, And when that he had done it, he call'd it a joke, But for three weeks after poor Billy ne'er spoke. O dear, lackaday, O ! As 1 walk along, the girls as I pass, how they look at me and cock up a glass, And then they cry out, both one and all, There goes a great fool, that's got nothing at all. O dear, lackaday, O ! One morn I got up, not thinking of harm, So I took a walk in the fields, the sun it being warm, 1 went to the new river all for to catch fish, But my foot gave a slip so 1 fell into a ditch. O dear, lackaday, O i now I'm grown old, it is my ill luck, Along with another man to draw a truck ; And because I'm so feeble, to work I can't stick And when 1 gets home they give oakum to pick. O dear, lackaday, O ! FEYTHER'S OLD SOW. GOOD morrow Miss Biddy pray how do you do 1 dare say you guesses at what I be come about, Feyther and mother say, I mun court you, And so if you please, I'll tell my mind out : You shall ha' a pony to carry ye, Cocks and hens — a bull and a cow ; Only say that I shall marry ye, I'll feed ye as fat as my ley ther sold sow, Be 'ant my old feyther got farms o' his own, Harrow and ploughs, and hedges and ditches too, And when he goes dead, be 'ant it well known, 1 be heir to the whole ,of his riches too ; , Are ye content to take me aud half of it, Ye'd better say yes and accept or it j now ; You'll repent if you do make a iaug*» of it, COMIC SONGS. 97 Jbot I'll feed you as fat as my fey- ther's old sow. I'll buy ye new silk, and fine satins to wear, You dress yourself up everyday like a lady bright, Sit yourself down in mother's great chair, And scold all the servants from morn- ing till night : You shall sit at the top of the table, While all the company to you shall bow; Marry me I am willing and able, To teed you as fat as my feyther's old sow. You do want a husband — and I'll be 3'our man, Say ye will have me — depend on't I'll love you dear, And to make you quite happy I'll do. ali I can, To gi' you a thumping boy every year; Then I'll go fetchjdoctor and nurse to ye, At christ'nings we'll make such a deuce of a row, And you know good eating shall fos- ter ye, For I'll feed ye as fat as my feyther's old sow. When we've been to church on a grand wedding day To dinner and supper we'll ha' all our best friends, Wi' bacon and pork and strong ale we'll be gay, And you it" you like shall be stuffed at both ends ; Here now, I make the first proffer, And give you sincerely my true vir- gin vow, You'd better, much better, accept of my offer For I can feed ye as fat as fey ther's old sow. Gome gi' your consent now and let's marry straight All th' village shall ring with a peal from the merry bells My love is so hot that I'm sure I can't wait, So it" you won't ha' me I'll get so e- body else ; SSme flies, come don't be a sappy, See there's our bull running after you r cow, Be wise and make us both happy, I'll feed yon as fat as my feyther's old sow. ADVERTISING Tune. — Walker the Toupenny Post- man. FOR a wife I have tried very oft you must know, By courtship, by presents, by loving words too, But still all the ladies would always say, no ! Thinks I, this is something surpris- ing. And being quite tired of the life I had led, One morning with sorrow as I lay in bed, A curious thought popp'd into my head, Thinks I, why I'll try advertis- ing. So then I got up with a heart full of joy, Resolv'd no delay should my plea- sures annoy, So in writing I sit down my time to employ, Curious things surmising. But, thinks I, there's no knowing til put to the test, So to all single ladies myself thus ad- drest, 'lis with a compannion I wish to be blest, For which I am now advertising. And to prevent trouble the truth I'll unfold, In person genteel, and justforty years old, Besides something else that I will not withhold, For the truth I would not be dis- guising. In battle I've been, and from fighting our foes, 'Tis true 1 have had the misfortune to lose One eye, one arm, and a part of my nose, Which compels me to be advertise ing. 98 COMIC SONGS. But then to live in I've a snug little cot, A horse to ride on without I am not, Besides something else you must know I have got, Which soon I shall be you appris- ing. I've a snug independence at my com- mand, So ladies be wise and pray now un- derstand, A proffer I make of my heart and my hand, By thus to you advertising. Should this meet the eye of a lady inclin'd By letter in secret she may tell her mind, Or in person apply as above, and you'll find Him who is thus enterprizing. So having completed, I hastily rose, And then to the Chronicle Office I goes, With my billet-doux for insertion, in •prose, Which 1 left for next day's adver- tising. Next morning I long'd o'er its pages to pore, And just in the act of perusing it o'er, When such a rat-tat there came at the door, So early to me was surprising. A letter it was, and such passions be- tray 'd, Thinks I, to live single now I'm not afraid, And would you believe it, it came post-paid, In answer to my advertising. Next morning it stated, that I should With such loving words I could never deny, And eager I was my good fortune to try, I went without any advising. And when 1 came there, oh ! indeed it is true, My joys were soon turn'd to the devils that's blue, 'T.w^s an ugly old maiden, just seven- ty-two, That answer'd to my advertising. One half of her nose by the doctor was saved, Her mouth by the dentist with teeth had been paved, And then by the barber her head had been shaved In beauty she was so surprising. But to wed this fair lady I was not inclin'd, Although to instruct her some friend had been kind, For in fact, you must know, of both eyes she was blind, So the Deyil take all advertising. THE GREAT MOGUL AND THE BLUE-BOTTLE. Air. — Of a noble race ap ShenJcin. OH ! the Great Mogul cali'd Babor, Was a little fat punchinello ; On his Ottoman gay, How he dozed all day, Squat under a grand umbrella ! Air — Cease rude Boreas. When a monarch, so despotic, Yielded to the drowsy god, Spreading round him a narcotic, All his court began to nod : — Air — We're a y noddin. So they all nodded, nid, nid, nodded, All nodded, round the Great Mo- gul. When he chanc'd to wake, how brisk they grew, When again he nodded, then they all nodded too ; And they all nodded, &c. Air — Black Joke, ' But it happen'd one day, while to sleep he inclin'd, That a mighty big fly of the Hindostan kind, Kept buzzing just under the Great Mogul's nose. " By Mahomet!" bellow'd the Em- peror, then, " If that blue-bottle ever should plague me again, " My first lord in waiting, that minute shall die, " Unless he immediately catches the fly. COMIC SONGS. 99 That dares to disturb my imperial re- pose." AIR — Maid of Lodi. Again soft slumbers coming, The Emperor ceased to speak ; Again the fly came humming, And stuck upon his cheek. Air — Let the Toast pass. Then the first lord in waiting took aim with much grace, Calling all his good stars to assist him ; , , , • And dealt the Mogul a sound slap m the face, Crying, " curse the blue-bottle, I ve miss'd him ! Rot it, how dull ! _ Woe on my scull !" The fly has escap'd and I've floor d the Mogul!" "AlR — Young Lobski. The Mogul got up, with fury fraught, A limner then his likeness caught ; Which makes him look so grim they say, On packs of cards, in the present day, The present day, &c. MR. SOLOMON LEARY. MISTER Leary slipp'd into this world at Killarney, The place of all others for beauty and blarney ; He soon found his mother, but found it was rather A hard task for babies to know their own father. Father O'Leary, Sweet pretty deary ; It's a wise child that knows his papa, Mister Leary. He'd a red nose, red hair, brawny limbs, and a clear eye Which squinted a bit, so they chris- ten'd him Leary, But the boys call'd him Solomon, which was no joke, For merry and wise were the first words'he spjoke. Master Leary, Leary, Lisping young Leary, He was merry and wise Master Solo- mon Leary. Growing up he made love to * Miss Hester Molloy,' *m The virgin mamma of a very fine boy ; And he fain would have kiss'd but she cried, " go, you joker, Sure the child that's once burn'd al- ways dreads a hot poker, O'Leary, Leary, Go you sweet deary ; The burnt child dreads the fire, Mister Solomon Leary." Then he fill'd a bumper and lear'd at Miss Hester, He toasted her charms, while he tenderly press'd her, Till a press-gang press'd him all on board a King's ship, — Oh ! there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip. Poor Leary, Leary, He look'd very queery, As he slipp'd both the cup and the lip, poor O'Leary. Having lost both his liquor and lass, our nate dandy Fell deeply in love with the captain's nate brandy, Till caught at the bung-hole, they shovv'd him no quarter, Oh ! the pitcher may go once too oft to the water. O'Leary, Leary, Look'd wretched and dreary, For the pitcher was broke, Mister So- lomon Leary. Then they put him in chains, and con- demn'd him beside, And up to the yard-arm his wizen they tied, But the rope broke, and into the wa- ter he bounded, Sure he that was born to be hang'd can't be drowned. O'Leary, Leary, Swim to your deary, He that's born to be hang'd can't be drown'd, Mister Leary. MISTRESS JUDY MINNIGIN. TuNE — Barney BralaghaiC s Court- ship. TWAS late one night, I'm told, When Pat, with whiskey burning, Along the road he roll'd, And homeward was returniug, 100 COMIC SONGS. Resok'djao more to roam, ThjjrjBtauite fast was falling, But whejf*at he got home, He thus mgan his bawling : Ope the door, Charming Mistress Minnigin ; Rain fast pour, So pray let me in again. Says Judy from within, Come sooner home you might, sir ; I'll not let you in, So late as this at night, sir. Oh yes, my darling, do, I own it rather late is,; See what I've got for you, Besides some nice paratees. Ope the door, &c. For you I've got a treat, I've got some whiskey too, now, A pig that you may eat All this I've got for you now., So haste and let me m, I Just like a drowned rat, too, I'm wet quite through my skin, And I've spoilt my Sunday hat, too. Ope the door, &c. Says Judy, that I wont, In here you'll not be poking ; Pray, my love, now don't Think that I am joking. For when you went away, . .To come back you'd be scorning ; 2>o now, my boy, you may Keep outside till the morning. Ope the door, &c. A jack-ass too I've got, On it you may ride, too, "When to church you trot I'll walk by your side. too. A cat for you I've caught, With young 'tis very big, too; For two thirteens I've bought A little guinea-pig, too. Ope the door, &c. To Dublin, faith, I've been, I call'd too at your mother's ; Brother Pat I've seen, He's at the Cat and Snuffers. Says Judy, what you're at, Your tal king's all in vain, sir ; With your jacL-as,?, pig, and cat, You may go fraCk again, sir. Ope the door. &c. ****************** ***********»***^, Says Pat, you may as well Let one in, I pray, now ; News I've got to tell, Ope the door, I say, now. My love that you may taste, I've lips with kisses to smack ye ; But if you don't make haste, I've got a big stick to whack ye. Ope the door, &c. HURRAH FOR AN IRISH STEW. Air. — 'Bonnets of Blue. HURRAH for an Irish stew, Hurrah for an Irish stew, It's season'd so fine, and its flavour's divine. Hurrah for an Irish stew. It's good with pepper and salt.! It's good with potatoes a few, There's nought can equal in this grub- bing world, An elegant Irish stew. Then hurrah for an Irish stew, Hurrah for an Irish stew, It's season'd so fine, and its flavour's divine, Hurrah for an Irish stew. If you'd ask a young lover to dine, And have him prove kind unto you, To make love come out of his beauti- ful mouth, You should stuff it with Irish stew. Here's a health to John Bull and his beef, Here's a health to Sandy and brew, Here's a health to Paddy, good luck in brief,*; Success to his Irish stew. Then hurrah for an Irish stew, Hurrah for an Irish stew It's season'd so fine, and its flavour' divine, Och ! good luck to an Irish stew THE IRISH APOLOGY. TjJKE* — Over thejyater to Charley. AURAH ! now Pat, sure it's where have you been. You're drunk as a fdevll, you era- ture; COMIC SONGS. 101 Be after stopping at home, you spal- peen, And keep on this side of the wa- ter, Or else, you blackguard, we'll be with- out straw, And sure, that will make us un- aisy, Judy, my joy, will you just hold your jaw, I've been with your friend, Mister Vasey. Tol de rol, &c. 'Twas the next day now, as Pat went to trade, He met with his friend, and took whiskey ; Judy just thought he was using the spade, The time he was getting so friskey. Somehow, or other, he got a black eye, Which made him go home rather crazy ; Arrah ! now, Judy, I hope you won't cry, I'd this from your friend, Mister Vasey. Tol de roi, &c. Judy complain'd, but 'twas all of no use, For Pat never thought of returning Till cash was all gone, then, fearing abuse, He walk'd home one fine Sunday morning. The children all cried there's nothing to eat ; < Says Judy, I'll tell Father Casey ; Sure then you may, and we'll soon have some meat, My money's gone with your friend Vasey. Tol de rol, &c. Casey came in, and he kick'd up a breeze, Pat soon made him taste the shil- lelah; Then swore a big oath he'd soon be at And enlist with Sergeant O'Phealy ; Sure then he did, and at sound of the drum He march'd off one morning quite hazy ; Judy was told, though she thought it a hum, ^jp J The news by her friend,*Mister Va- sey. Tol de rol, &c. Vasey was kind, and his friendship was great, Poor Judy for Pat was bewailing ; Says he, my darling, it's no use to prate, I'm yours now without any fail- ing. Judy agreed, and they soon went to bed, When Pat, who was smart as a daisy, Heturn'd home that night, shepopp'd up her head, There look, it's your friend, Mister Vasey. Tol de rol, &c. Oh, blood and ouns, this is all mighty fine, But, may 1 be hang'd, if I strike her ; And now you're in bed, your friend- ship's divine, Sure now you can tell how you like her. So, Judy, goodbye, your children al- so, Your husband can leave you quite aisy ; Success to my friend, wherever I go, I'll drink— to my friend, Mister Vasey. Tol de rol, &c. THE HISTORY OF PADDY DENNY'S WIFE AND HIS PIG. Tune— Ally Crcker. In Dublin town with great renown, Lived Mr. Patrick Denny ; By Cupid's shove, he got in love With a lady from Kilkenny : She was an Irishman bora and bred, Her name was Judy Raiter : His love did burst, so he married first And went a courting after. 'Tis very true what 1 tell you, Or else 1 would not bawl now ; TJrton my worth and Credit faith You may believe it all now 102 COMIC SONGS. When they did wed in" a fine flock bed, To be sure they laid in clover ; And she full sooti in the honey-moon, Felt strange and queer all over. She long'd for fat, for this and that, For ale to bake her toast in . And what was best among the rest, For a little pig a roasting. Tis very true, &c. To give her aid, he got a spade, And built her up a pig-stye, Rail'd like a pound, and square all round, It wasn't a very big stye : Says he, " don't fret, a pig I'll get, And one for breeding fitten ; No loss I'll gain, 'twill ease your pain, For the sow will be with kitten." 'Tis very true, &c. But as his purse was all the worse For matrimony's searches ; To gain his ends, he got two friends To join him in the purchase : They did agree that both all three, Should go halves in the store pig ; But faith, somehow, instead of a sow, They went and bought a boar pig. "lis very true, &c. A Pig by fate is obstinate, A nd always makes a pother, And if you say, " do go one way," He's sure to run the other : And Paddy could not get him on By leading — by blows — nor words ; So by the tail he pull'd him back, And that made hum go forwards. 'Tis very true, &c. Next morning he got up to see If the pig was 'sleep or waking; And there he found him on the ground, And in grievous taking : His friend was nigh, says he, " twill die, That's sure," says Paddv, " will it? To stop this strife, and save its life, I think we'd better kill it." 'Tis very true, &c. Nov/ in a stew with a hubbubboo, Before the knife did cross flesh, They call'd the other partner in, 'Cause he was a judge of horse flesh: He rubb'd him with same bolusses, And drench'd him with some oint- ment ; Told Pat not to be disappointed At his disappointment. 'Tis very true, &c. But you know all a pig will squall Like any other vermin ; And they saw plain, 'twas all in vain, As to die he did determine : So the knife did stick, and made him sick, And ended all his riot : At first he bled, but when he was dead He laid down very quiet. 'Tis very true, &c. They saw, och hone, the life was gone, And that was nought to boast of; But that the cost might not be lost, And the meat to make the most of, They put it in a barrow, And to market then they roll'd it ; And as it did not look like pork, For mutton, faith they sold it. 'Tis very true, &c. Irishmen, twelve out of ten, Are all birds of a feather ; And never on such friendly terms, As when they fight together : And so it proved, for Paddy moved By whisK^jr, a great flame to ; He bate them both genteely, And they — served him the same too. 'Tis very true, &c. Now Judy all the while got stout, And after that got stouter ; ~ And then she was decently put to bed, With her neighbours all about her. To Paddy's joy she brought a boy, And och ' how he was boasting, For upon one eye it had a stye, And t'other a pig a roasting ! 'lis very true, &c. COMIC SONGS. 103 LET US GO AND TAKE A WALK. Air — Let us haste to Kelvin Grove. WILL you go to Bagnigge Wells, bonnet builder, O ! Where the Fleet-ditch fragrant smells, bonnet builder, O ! Where the fishes used to swim, So nice, and sleek, and trim, But the pond's now cover'd in, bonnet builder, O ! Will you toddle with your Bill, bon- net builder, O ! To the Crown, at Pentonville, bonnet builder, O ! Where the cove sells Kennett Ale, Which, like you, looks very pale ; — 1 like it best when stale, bonnet build- er, O ! Then we'll to the Conduit go, bonnet builder, O ! You're fond of it I know, bonnet build- er, O ! Where the songsters sing so sweet And the garden looks as neat As the stockings on your feet, bonnet builder, O ! Oh, I must cut my stick, bonnet build- der, O I For here there's no pon tick, bonnet builder, O ! Now sorely do I fear We must pass the Belvidere, — Unless you can stand a tear, bonnet builder, O ! Poverty on me frowns, bonnet build- er, O! I've now left but three browns, bonnet builder, O ! Ere six o'clock to-morrow, Five shillings will I borrow Till when I leave in sorrow, bonnet builder, O ! And when I'm gone to bed, bonnet builder, O ! With my night cap on my head, bon- net builder, O ! Wilt thou, Builder, if you hear The pot-boy crying " beer !" Take a pint tor me, my dear, bonnet builder, O ! THE LADIES' DARLING. MY father he lived in Limerick town, That sweet little place of great re- nown. Which mirth and beauty call their own, It is so gay and frisk ey. My father was digging, potatoes so sweet, My mother was sitting down to knit, When 1 was born, and cronies did meet To drink my health in whiskey. Spoken.] " Oh, bless his sweet face," says Judy Fogerty, " he's the very picture of his devil of a dad, if he was only a little more like him." " Why, bad luck to you !" says Judy Magee, " hasn't the boy got as big nose as his mother?" " To be sure he has," says my father, " and when he grows up a man won't he be a tight youth!" " Aye, upon my soul he will, if he can only drink half as much as you do !" " Why, bad luck to you !" says he, " would you be after throwing whiskey in my face V And then they began — Swearing, tearing, jigging away, Loving, drinking, all the day, Oh, sure there was the devil to pay, For I was the ladies' darling. Now the tables were spread with bor- row'd del-f, They brought the whiskey from the shelf, They called me a little fairy elf, And named me a little sinner : The gossips were Jerry O'Brien, the big, A devil for fighting, or eating pig, While father Leary, with his wig, Sat sig'hing for his dinner. Spoken.] " Nov; then, push the whis- key about," says my father. " So we will," says my mother. Then they sent it rolling down m.y throat " N ow give us a toast," says father O'Leary. " Here's long life to the little boy, may he always have a great shellelagh in his fist, the soul of the creature in his stomach, and a thumping red-hot potatoe in the middle of his throat !" "Bravo, now give us a royal toast." says O'Fagan, .the soldier. "Here's 104 COMIC SONGS. long life to the Prince of York, suc- cess to the Duke of Wales, and good luck to the Irish Ambassador." * Huzza! huzza! Now strike up a jig," says the tailor; ," give us Petti- coat loose!" "First let's wet my eye," says the blind piper, " then [ shall be able to see what I'm about." But faith he was blind twice, for first he was blind with his eyes, and then he was blind drunk and he began — Swearing, tearing, &c. But soon you must know I grew up a man, Then all my troubles at once began. .For I fell in love with one Kitty Me- gan, And that you'll own was a folly. A fellow got Kitty's heart into a snare, My friends they told him to beware, And swore they'd fight him at the fair, So ranting, gay, and jolly. r Spoken,] "Aye, won't we fight him V says my cousin, " To be sure ■we will/' says L. Then away we went with sticks and stones, and marrow- bones, till we came off to the fair. There was Jerry M'Carthy, Terry Malloney, Patrick O'Donoughough, Gerald O'Flannakin, and Phelim M'Carthy Moie. Whack went the shellelaghs, up went one, down went another, till at last one fellow gave me a tip of the noddle, and down I went on the floor as flat as atenpenny, when up came ugly Jerry, 'and says he, " Padreen! Padreen!" ' " What do you mean by disturbing me ?" says I ; " don't you see that I am dead ?" 41 Devil burn you," says he, " if you're dead, why don't you get up and run away, for here comes tall Pat to kill you again 1 ?" " Oh, by the powers," says I, " that's a bull ; do you think he'd be after killing a dead man twice 1 when up came tall Pat, he gave me a tip, 1 was up in a mo- ment, and I beat Jerry M'Carthy, Terry Malloney, Patrick O'Donough- ough, and Phelim M'Carthy More, and I followed his great-grandfather over nine ploughed fields, and while I was lathering away at the tough old devil, I was swearing, tearing, &c. JUDY'S LAMENT FOR TEDDY. Air. — Now Katty, now, can't you be aisy. SINCE Ted o'er the bog has taken a m J0g- To London ,from Balinacasey, 1 sob and I sulk, till I'm lessened in bulk, And pined till I'm nearly gone crazy, Spoken.'] Ah ! my own dear Teddy, I dare say you are seated snug enough, in some sky-blue garret, in St. Giles's, as comfortable as a pig in a parlour, while your own dear red-haired Judy is sitting moping, forlorn, in her own mud cabin, as mute as a mackerel, wid de tears running down her alabas- ter cheeks like trakle over a pipkin. Och ! hone, now, wont the London lasses be setting their caps to steal away that beautiful heart froir your own poor grey-eye'd Judy'f sure enough, it will break my heart if they do ; and sure it's swell'd now as big as a bushel. Oh! Teddy, think of* your Judy, and don't let 'em come over you wid*"dere — Tural lu lu — tu ral, &c. Arrah ! Teddy, now, can't you be aisy. Our cabin brick- floor wasjclean sanded o'er Once a week, and looked clean as a daisy ; And all things did use to look clean and spruce, But now they are dirty and greasy. Spoken ] And, sure, it's all through Teddy's laving me that every ting's turned topsy-turvy. I've nothing no,w I left to solace me but Teddy's woollen nightcap, that cost a thirteen, at O' I Bog's the linen-draper, that Teddy i gave me before he went wid a mortar i hod, to London, to make his fortune, ; as a pledge of his love. Every ting goes dirty except the pig-stye that holds my Teddy's pig. 1 stand for hours together, and scratch his bristly back, because 1 have seen Teddy do ;it, and every time he grunts. fjre„re- j minds me of him ; ,and sometifrtev.for ! the love I bear my Ted I sleep with i de pig all night, and when he wakes | me wid his snoring, I tink it is my COMIC SONGS. 105 Ted, so I clasp him to my heart, and cuddle him to death almost ; and sing- in my sleep — Now don't be coming over me wid your — , o Tu ral lu lu — tu ral &c. Arrah ! Teddy, now can't you be aisy. Cruel Teddy, "ah! when will you come back again To our cabin, at Balinacasey ; Where your mammy and dad are sighing and sad, And your Judy by grief grown half crazy 1 Spoken.] Every ting is at sevens and sixes since Teddy's gone. There is not a potato that blossoms but tells me of his departure. 1 often pick up # the pipes that he used to play, but I lay em down again in despair, for they make me pipe my eye. It was but yesterda}' my father told me to bring the inkstand and pen, and 1 fetched fiim a pail of water and a mop. Heigho ' I'll never see the time again that I did wid my Ted, when we used to stra> T over the bogs at moonlight, and, under some tree, he'd ax me for a kiss ; to be sure, but I gave it him, though I did look as red as a turke3'- cock, and sing — Now aon t be coming over ' me wid your — Tu ral lu lu — tu ral, &c. Arrah ! Teddy, now can't you be aisy. THE DEATH OF THE DEVIL. IT was on one dusky eve, When L was very poor; (The story you may believe,) The devil came to my door ; He held in his hand a large hook, His eyes did sparkle bright ; He said to my sister Suke, 1 Suke, I want your brother to- night.' With my fal, lal, lal, &c. I knew his voice in a minute, I'd heard it oft before ; As sprightly as a linnet, I flew behind the door ; His eyes with fire they shook, He gave a horrid groan ; I said to my sister >uke, ' Suke, tell him I'm not at home.' With my fal, lal, &c. The devil he flew in a pet And swore he would come in ; But, says my big sister Bet, ' I'll whack you out again.' Then he into the room took flight ; Lord how he stamp'd and swore, When he found poor little Mike Sat squatting behind the door. With my fal, lal, &c. The old woman jump'd off the chair, She broke his head with a broom ; The devil then out of fear, With sulphur fill'd the room Twas on a washing night, The water was boil in ° hot. She gave it him left and right, And tumbled him into the pot. With my fal, lal, &c There was my little sister Peg, At fighting had a knack ; With father's wooden leg She broke the devil's back. He sung out for his pal, As loud as he couid shout ; When me and my sister Sal . We whopp'd the devil out. With my fal, lal, &c. Next day the devil died, — What glorious news to hear ! Mark you what did betide, — He was buried in Bartlemy Fair! So we've nothing now to dread, But fill our glasses bright ; And as the devil's dead, We'll all do just as we like. With my fal, lal, &c. POOR LITTLE JOE. Air. — Poor little Mo. MY feyther kept a little farm, but hadn't much to do, So I got consent and took my leave of her and sister Sue ; My mother said, for certain, 1 need only shew my face Jn Lunnon town and I'd be sure to get a tidy place * 106 COMIC SONGS. Spoken.'] So I com'd up a top o' coach, and a very civil gentleman he sot wi' me, and we got a talking in conversation together : says he, young man, says he, you be going to that vile place Lunnon, and I'd advise you to take care of yourself, — Oh, never fear, says I ; I've gotten my eyes about me, and 1 knows i how many beans make five. — Ay, says he, I dare say you are a 'cute lad, but take my advice, and always keep your eyes open, or depend on't you'll be done. When we got into Lunnon I wur stupified wi' the noise, and the rumpus, the rattle, the uproar and the gas lights, and one thing and t'other: so the gentleman bade me good night, and told me to take care or my sen. Well, we got to White- Horse-Cellar, and I got down and ax'd coachman for my bundle. — Your bundle ! savs he ; your friend took it, and said he should take care of it. — Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! sure as a gun he has robbed me himself: and so he had, for I never seed him since. I sought him up and down and I wan- dered to and fro, But useless all the labour of poor lit- tle Joe. Although I wur completely of my new clothes thus bereft, I still had in breeches porket got a so- vereign left ; Next morn to find a servant's office, had a pretty race, And ax'd the man within if he could tell me of a place. Spoken.'] What a sort of a place do you want, young man ? says he. — O, says I, 1 bean't partiklar. — Says he, then I knows o' one that will exactly suit you : 'tis at Mr Tomkinson's. — Mr. Tornkinson, where may he live 1 "Why, his town residence is in London, but his country-house is at Windsor- Castle; he wants just such a good- looking lad as you : he gives twenty pounds per year, and twelve shillings per week board wages i but you must go directly. — O, says I, I'll be off in a.cfack. — You'd better go in the coach says he ; but, before you go, you must give me ten shillings for information. — To be sure, says I ; but suppose the place is gone? then I'll get you ano- ther, never fear. — Well 1 mounted coach, and soon got to Windsor-Cas- tle, and ax'd for Mr. Tornkinson : no- body could tell me ; nobody know'd'n; he didn't live there; and, after hunt- ing all over the town, somebody said 1 might depend on't I wur done out o' my ten shillings; so I walked up to Lunnon again, went to office, and the man had the imprence to tell me he'd never seed me before in all his born days. Thus robbed and cheated every way, oh, where was I to go, No one would take pity on poor little Joe. The people laugh'd and jeered me so they put me in a fright, For rear I'd be obliged to walk about the streets all night ; Not knowing what to do,- when a watchman kindly said, If I went up to St. Giles's I'd be sure to get a bed. Spoken.] So I went there, and the landlady made me pay threepence for my lodging, and show'd me up stairs. There were three beds in the room, and all of 'em fill'd. I wur very tir'd fell asleep and never dream'd of what more bad luck 1 wur to meet wi. Well, I woke in the morning ; dick- ens and daisies ! somebody had put on my leather breeches and left me nought but a ragged pair of trousers. Oh dear! oh dear! says I, landlady, here's somebody stolen my leather breeches. Young man, says she, don't you go kick up a row here and ruin the 'speetability of my house, to the best of my recollection when you came last night to my house you had not any breeches on. She turned me out, and 1 wander'd up one street and down another till dinner time, thinking o' how I should get my breakfast, when I seed a young man, selling matches, wi' my breeches on. Says I, young man, you've got my breeches on. — Your breeches 1 says he. Yes, says I, you slept in Si. Gileses last night and run away wf em this morning. — Says he, if you'll believe me, I never was in St. Giles's in all my life. — Oh dear ? oh dear ! — COMIC SONGS. 107 I've had enough of Lunnon Town but e're down home Lgo, I've come to tell the troubles sad of poor little Joe. SMOKING'S QUITE REGULAR. Air. — All the Blue bonnets are over the border. " When pigs run wild about the streets with strawe in their mouthes, it is a sign of rain." Old Saj/iriff. SMOKE! smoke! London and West- minster, Light your cigars, for smoking's quite " regular." Smoke! smoke! shop boys and chim- ney pots; Smoking's the fashion from gemman to Higgler . Blow ! blow ! smokers and pugilists ; Let there be piping and blowing no matter how. Blow ! blow ! zephyrs and organists, ■ Piping and blowing there's nothing else thought of cow. Puff ! Puff ! " Warren" and " Charlev Wright," Puff till you've blinded his Majesty's lieges, Puff! puff! piemen and pastry-cooks, Bacca-pipe odour each nostril be- sieges. Spit ! spit ! all who love bacca smoke, For it produces great expectoration; Spit! spit! smokers and cook-wenches Let there be spitting without a cessa- tion. Pipe! pipe! pipers and naughty brats ; Here ends my verse my muse she is rather hoarse, Quid ! quid ! what do you think of it 1 Excellent metre ! I know ; ;you all crv oftourse.. BARNEY BRALLAGHAN'S WEDDING. BY DARBY KELLY. DEAR Judy atjjast has gi'en the kind yes, And ould- leather Murphy has sealed • our bliss ; Pretty Jud3' held out full many a day Till 1 bother'd her so that she could not say nay, And such a gay wedding sure never was seen Since the one that w r as famous at Ba- lyporeen. The guests they were merry light- hearted and friskey, They drank to our joys in nate Irish whiskey. Mr. and Mrs. Brallaghan. The pigs squeak'd for joy that my Judy was come, Darby Kelly the Piper then welcom'd her home, For he with the rest of our Irish cousins Did come to the wedding in parties by dozens ; But the best of the bunch was the gay Paddy Sheen, Says he arrah ! now boys, pray what do you mean ? Don't sit mum chance, but foot it so friskey, Let's drink Barney's wine and demo- lish the whiskey, Mr. and Mrs. Brallaghan. Then ould Father Murphy so freely did sing, He rent his best cassock and off went his wig; Now says he, I will ghseyou a bit of advice. Sure such a young couple I never did splice ; Let the Bride be good-natured and prone to obey, Then Barney may fling his shellelagh •^ away. We all laughed at this, the night went off friskey ; For what cheers the heart like a wed- ding and whiskey. Mr. and Mrs. Brallaghan. LONDON SIG-HTS. Tune. — Quite Politely. GOOD folks to Lunnun I be come, Fine sights to see, fine sights to see ; Good folks, to Lunnun 1 be come, Where things are mortal funny. Most wond'rbus sights you may see here, 108 COMIC SONGS. Sights that are droll, sights that are queer ; But them to see they charge so dear, It costs you so much money. Ri tol de rol, &c. I went to see the Monument, By Lunnun-bridge, by Lunnun- i bridge ; I went to see the Monument, And to the top I mounted : Thinks I the people in this town Are nation good and righteous grown ; For churches sure if' t ei:e is one, A hundred full 1 counted Ri tol de rol, &c. The church clocks now are lighted up With gas at night, with gas at night ; The church clocks now are lighted up, The hour of night exposing : This plan is sure to answer well, All watchmen's fears it will dispel, As it will serve the time to tell To them when they've been dozing. Ri tol de rol, &c. One night I went to see the play, At Covent-garden, Covent-garden ; One night I went to see the play, It was the Moor of Venice : There was a great black ugly fellow, His name I think it was Othello, How he did stamp and rave and bel- low Before the play did finish. Ri tol de rol, &c. The next place was the Diorama In Regent' s-park, in Regent's-park ; The next place was the Diorama That 1 did go to see, sir : A village by sunshine they show, The name is Utterseen, I know To go again I'll not be slow, It did me greatly please, sir. Ri tol de rol, &c. For only one thing now I wait, The new steam coach, the new steam coach ; For only one thing now I wait, The invention of one Gurney : I'm told it on the road will fly All mails and coaches will pass by, If so its just the thing for I, When I go back my journey. Ri tol de rol, &c. MRS. HEELTAP'S BELLOWS. Air. — There's nae hick. JOHN Heeltap was a cordwainer, Of BermondSey so rare ; And in a garret, he did dwell I mean a front four pttit \ His dearest rib, a wssrry soul, Oft wax'.*? «with warm desire ; Did zfeoiy love from morn till night, lo puff and blow the fire, With her puff, puff, blow, blow, Puff, puff, away : The devil a bit of fire he'd keep, For she'd puff it all away. Now' John was never known to swear Before he took a wife ; But now, alas ! he alter'd is, He swears from morn till night. His room bedeck'd with songs so rare, Are tann'd like a neat's hide ; The reason it is very clear, She has them so smoke-dried. With her puff, puff, &c. His lap-stone soon neglected got, Likewise his awl and bristles ; And many were the days he'd spend. At the Old Bell, at skittles. But Betty soon thought of a plan To keep him at his stitches ; She rose one morn before 'twas light And puffd away his breeches. With her puff, puff, &c. Now John was from his slumber woV e By Betsy's well known puff; His breeches gone, it was no joke, She'd burnt them sure enough. His hair like bristles stood on end, Some thought him mad or jealous ; He welted Betty round the room, And then he burnt the bellows. With her puff, puff, &c. They happy now together dwell, Like turtle doves so rare ; And as John's breeches Betty burnt She's bought him a new pair. They now in blissful joys do live, Like cherubs, so they tell us ; Let's bear in mind their cause of strife, 'Twas Mrs. Heeltap's bellows ! With her puff, puff, &c. COMIC SONGS. 109 THE HUMOURS OF DONNY- BROOK FAIR, OH ! 'twas Dermot O'Rowland M'Figg That could properly handle the twig! He went to the fair, . And kick'd up a dust there, In dancing the Donny brook jig, With his twig — Oh, my blessing is Dermot M'Figg ! When he came to the midst of the fair, He was all in a paugh for fresh air. I'or the fair very soon Was as full as the moon, Such mobs upon mobs as were there, Oh rare ! So more luck to sweet Donnybrook fair! The souls they came pouring in fast, To dance while the leather would last, For the Thomas-street brogue, Was there in such vogue. And oft with the brogue the joke pass'd, Quite fast. While the cash and the whiskey did last! But Dermot, his mind on love bent, In search of his sweetheart he went, Peep'd in here, peep'd n there, As he walk'd through the fair, And took a small taste in each tent As he went, Och ! on whisky and love he was bent. When, who should he spy in a jig, With a mealman, so tall and so big, But his own darling Kate, So gay and so nate — Faith, her partner he hit him a dig, The pig, He beat the meal out of his wig. The piper, to keep him in tune, Struck up a gay lilt very soon, Until an arch wag Cut a hole in his bag And at once put an end to the tune Too soon — Och ! the music flew up to the. moon ! To the fiddler, says Dermot M'Figg, If you pleas, sir, play " Sheelah na Gig," .We'll shake a loose toe, While you humour the bow ; To be sure, you won't warm the wig, Of M'Figg. While he's dancing a light Irish jig. But, says Katty, the darling, says she, If you'll only just listen to me, It's myself that will show Billy can't be your foe. Though he fought for his cousin, that's me. Says she, For sure Billy's related to me ! For my own cousin-german, Ann Wild, Stood for Biddy Mulrooney's first child, And Biddy's step-son, Sure he married Bess Dunn. Who was gossip to Jemvy. as mild A child As ever at mother's breast smiled ! And may be you don't know Jane Brown, Who served goats' whey in Dun- drum's sweet town, 'Twas her uncle's half brother That married my mother, And brought me this yellow new gown To go down, When the marriage was held at Mil- town. By the powers ! then, says Dermot, 'tis plain. Like a son of that rapscallion Cain, My best friend I have kilt, Though no blood there is split, "And the devil a harm did I mane, That's plain ; But by me he'll be ne'er kilt a- gain ! Then the meal-man forgave him the blow That laid him a sprawling low, And, being quite gay, Asked them both to the play, But Katty being bashful, said no" Oh no — no ! Yet he treated them all to the show ! SUCCESS TO THE WHISTLE AND WIG. AT the sign of the Whistle and Wig, A party each Friday night met, 110 COMIC SONGS. Who were of their abilities big, Example all others to set. The chairman arrived about six, A youth turned of seventy four, Who, being quite full of his tricks, Kept 'em waiting an hour or more. Spoken.'] Here's our worthy chair- man at last. Order, order— Chair, chair. (Chairman, in a feeble voice.) —Gentlemen, I hope you will excuse me for keeping you in suspence ; but, you must know, a little affair of gal- lantry—and in cases of that sort we must be subservient ; but, to proceed, as I've but just arrived, and out of breath, I shall ask my fnend Strap to sing the first song. Mr. Strap, will you have the goodness to favour the comparry? Strap (gruff voice). Why, really Mr. President, I'm always ready to oblige, but, as my memory is very treacherous, if I should stand in need of a prompter, 1 hope the company will excuse it. Hum, hum. Oh, the days when I were young, How I laughed at — hey down diddle, ho-down diddle ; When the fields were covered with snow — (hesitation.) (President.)— Gentlemen, why don't you prompt Mr. Strap. Prompt, Prompt. ( Strap} — Lack-a-daisy, Mr. President, I thought how it would be ; I have taken a glass too much of my friend Squeezecrab's gooseberry- wine, and it has proved too strong for my weak nerves: have the goodness to Knock me down. (Butcher.) Ha, ha, that would be killing work, Mr. Strap. No, no, said Peter Sharp, the club-wit, (in a snuffle,) it would be only a striking proof of our approba- tion. Oh, if that is only the case, why, we will sing — Bravo, bravo, who would have thought him Such a fine singer, I wonder who taught him. Mr. Fog in rotation was named, Compliance they all did insist, Five minutes indulgence he claimed, His ideas were lost in a mist : But he'd, sooner than harmony stop, Attempt, if they order would call ; So his throttle he wet with a drop, And screwed up his mouth for a squall. Spoken, wry^nouthed.] Mr. Presi- dent^ it meets with your approbation. I'll sing one of my own making ; and I assure you it is quite new, for I hav'n't sung it for these twenty years--- (President.) It must be new, indeed. Order, order, gentlemen, for Mr. Fog. There was an old woman had three sons, Jeffry, Jemmy, and John : Jeffry was hanged, Jemmy was drowned, T'other was lost, and he ne'er could be found, So there was an end of the old wo- man's sons, Jeffry, Jemmy, and John, Bravo, bravo, who, &c. Next a butcher succeeded to Fog, Whose voice was just like a bull roar; He'd a nose like the snout of a hog, And soon proved himself quite a bore. Then it came to the parish-clerk's turn, He'd taken his cups pretty free, Who called out, at excuses I spurn, But (hiccoughs) thank'e for calling on me. Spoken as a drunken ma7i.~\ Now, gentlemen, I'll give you an old fa- vourite of my grandfather's, he used to sing it every morning before he wak'd ; here goes- Mat Mudge, the sexton of our town, Though oft a little headdy, With drink he'd so his senses drown, Still some excuse was ready. Mat swore the parson loved a sup, And eke also the clerk ; But then it kept his spirits up 'Mongst spirits in the dark. Bravo, bravo, who, &c. Now all look towards President's chair — A medley was buzz'd round the room ; He was ever a foe to dull care, In mirth every day he'd consume. COMIC SONGS. Ill So, to finish the evening's sport, A bumper he toss'd off in a twig, To the fair whose sweet smiles were his forte, And success to the "Whistle and Wig. Spoken.} Gentlemen, I'll do my best ; but allow me to give you a toast first : The British fair, and may our endeavours to please be crowned with success. Bravo, bravo. Three times three—have you all drank that toast, gentlemen? All, all.—Hem, hem. — (Sings a tnedley, ad libitum.) Bravo bravo, who, &c. MR. FOG; MR. FOG he conducted a chandler's shop, Mrs. Fog was just fit for her station, And they had a daughter they call'd Miss Pop, "Who had a polite education ; For Missey was sent to a boarding- school, Where all the fine things they taught her: I don't mean to say Mr. Fog was a fool, But he made a great tool of his daughter. Spoken.] Miss came home for the holidays, and all their friends were in- vited : Miss Poppy sat as prim as a wax doll in a t03 r -shop window.— " Poppy," says Mr. Fog, " Poppy, my dear, do pollyrvoo a little, to show your laming." " La, pa, vat a fool you are." " Veil,'"' says the tripeman, that's vat I calls manners." "Come, come, my dear," says Mrs. Fog, " do speechify a little stronomy bottomy, about plants and comets." " Vy, ma, if I did, you vouldrCt understand it." " Manners, again," said the tripeman. But just as you like, to fashion bow, Every one to their liking, As the old woman said, when she kiss'd her cow, Isn't the picture striking? Miss Fog she left school just as wise as she went, And dressed out in muslin3 and sandles, She oftentimes into the shop was sent, To serve out soap, small beer, and candles. The customers star'd, and they thought it strange, (All genteel shopkeepers ape her,) For, though she'd to give but a farthing in change, She wrapp d it in whity-brown paper Spoken.] " Vy, miss," saj^s an old woman, (who wanted a far'n'orth of sand and change for a ha'penny,) " that's a new go to put off old cop- pers." " Don't be sarcy," says Fog, my darter's been to boarding-school, to lam gentility." " O," says a coal- heaver, " 1 likes the genteel thing wastly, so here, Miss, hand us over a auartern of butter, while I wrap my irty money in a rag. that it mayn't soil your lily-white knuckles." " I beg, sir, you vont be imperent. I de- clare, pa, I never voiCt come into the shop no more if I'm to be treated so by these cannel." (canaille.) " Dirty butter," said an Irishwoman, " who do you call kennel? go wrap your bones up in cotton, and lay yourself up till the lavender season, miss." But just as you like, &c. Miss Fog at the shop she soon turn'd up her nose, Soon turn'd it up at pa and ma, too, And thence in the family quarrels arose, And at last grew a fine civil war, too. Miss Pop she popp'd off, and her home deserts, And married a spouting 'prentice, And, as she had never been taught to make shirts, Was forced to make shifts by twenties Spoken.] He was a j^oung amateur of fashion ; they played Ro?neo and Juliet, with Love Laughs at Lock- smiths ; and, Three Weeks after Mar- riage, the " gallant gay Lothario" left the Fair Penitent to Remorse. Now, instead of studying the dog star, she cries " cat's ?neatr and all her bo- tany is turned into cabbage-plants. — " O rare cabbage-plants /" But just as you like, &c. PEGGY TART. A CHARMING girl was Peggy Tart Yet whimsical and vain, Her charms could conquer every heart But none could hers obtain. L2 112 COMIC SONGS. +*++■■****■*+*»+■*■*»■*+*+. The man, says she, with whom I'll treat, Must be young, rich, and wise, He must be handsome, and six feet, At least, must be his size. At least must be his size. Spoken.'] Well, I declare, no puny little things for me. Heighof I'll have done playing with dolls, and am determined to have a tine, tall, hand- some, fellow for my husband ; one I can look up to and admire as a lofty po-pu-lar ; not one of those little crea- tures, with high heels and large col- lars. Oh' no,— He must be handsome, and six feet, At least, must be his size. A sprightly lad, with large black eyes, Came first, her heart to sue : Fine large black eyes she didn't de- spise, Although she lik'd them blue ; He sighed, he wept, but not a jot The lady cared for that, And told him plain she'd have him not Because he was too fat. Because he was too fat. Spoken."] Ha! ha! sir, says she, will you be kind enough to tell me what is your length, and what is your breadth? for, upon my honour, I can- not tell. Ah ! ah ! ah ! what is your cir- cumference—an enormous balloon- that is blown, just like a man of war in full sail. Why, sir, you are as plump as a prize-ox at Christmas ; so Told him plain she'd have him not, Because he was too fat. A dashing blade, with turned-up nose, Next this proud dame addresed ; She liked his nose, 'twas one of those That struck her fancy best ; They all were sure she'd now be won, When he was seen to court; But no, she said, pray, sir, begone, For you are much too short. For you are much too short. Spoken.] Pray, sir, what country- man are you? Do you come from Lilliput? why, you don't stand higher than a pair of good-sized bellows: upon my word, we should be obliged to put a cushion under you to raise you up to the table— ah ! ah ! ah ! and shall want a microscope to spy you out. You be my husband! I took you for a principal performer at the puppet-show. Oh, no, she said, pray, sir, begone, For you are much too short. But when Old Time began to blot The beauties of her face , And all her lovers, once so hot, Were getting cold apace, She thought 'twas time to look about, And Peg, her fears to quash, Married an ugly dwarfish lout That lacked both wit and cash. That lacked both wit and cash. Spoken.] Oh, dear me ! what shall I do? forsaken, deserted by them all. So poor Peggy ran to catch one by hook, or by crook, to prevent her from dying an old maid, and— Married an ugly dwarfish lout That lacked both wit and cash. Now listen to me— dear maids consent, If to be wives ye choose, Let as it will his nose be bent, A husband ne'er refuse. If you find one that's good at all, Take care to hold him fast, Else from the frying pan you'll fall Into the fire at last. Into the fire at last. BEGGARS AND BALLAD- SINGERS. MERRY Proteus of old, as by Ovid we're told, Could vary his Lhape as he chose ; Then why should not he my model be, When, in Charity's name, 1 impose. Spoken.] You must know, good folks that I belong to the honourable frater- nity of beggars, ballad-singers, and show-folks ; in begging, as in all other fashionable employments, a little well- timed, smooth-faced flattery goes a great way ; for instance, now I act dress every o~d maid, for I am sure to know them by their vinegar coun- tenances, by the title of " mat beau- tiful lady ; "—a raw, awkward fellow of a recruit, " most noble captain : —any person in a carriage, " right COMIC SONGS. 113 honourable ; "—and a poor country curate, with his shirt-sleeves seen at his elbows, by the title of " right rev- erend archbishop, " for the love of Him who made you, bestow some- thing on a poor Tolderol,&c. There's a difference between a beggar and a queen, And I'll tell you the reason why— ■ A queen cannot swagger, nor get drunk, like a beggar, Nor yet be so happy as I. Spoken] Why, how the devil should they 1 you knew they are obliged to support a kind of a dignified character: now I can change mine as often as I please ; for like a jugler, I can deal in legerdemain; I am ambidexter, and can use both hands like an attor- ney ; and as to honesty, that's an ac- complishment that gets little encou- ragement now-a-days, it is a mere Tol de rol &c. Like a sailor from the wars, covered over with scars, When I choose in that character to heg, My knuckles I hold flat, and with t'other arm my hat, And this way I hold up my leg. Spoken.'] Come, my noble messmate, bestow your charity upon a poor sea- man, lamed in the service, stumped in his starboard gam, his knee-braces shot away, and turned out of the service without a smart-ticket. — Sings— " Now dashed upon the billows. Her op'ning timbers creak, &c." Here, my good fellow, there's some- thing for you; you have been an honour to your country. An honour, ma'am, to be sure I have ; but, like most honourable gentlemen, my ho- nour consists in my-— Tol de rol, &c. There's Dolly and I, as ballads we cry, On a couple of stools see us stand, While she bawls aloud as the folks passes by, I then takes my fiddle iu hand. Spoken.] Come, neighbours and friends, here is an excellent new song, entitled and called, " I am a vild and roving boy." Come, Dick, play up. Stop, Moil, let us rosin the bow a bit first. Sings. — "lama vild and roving boy, My lodging's in the Isle of Troy ; A roving boy although I be, I'll leave them all, and I'll go with thee." That's a bad halfpenny you've taken, Moll. It ant a bad halfpenny I've taken. It is. It a'nt. O ! mammy, mammy, mammy. There, you jade, you've set the child a crying ; I've a good mind to break my fiddle over your head. I don't care for you nor your fiddle neither, as long as I can sing— Tol ae rol, &c. To make the wretched blest, private charity is best— These common beggars spurn at our laws ! Though reprobate the train, I mean to beg again, To solicit 3 ? our smiles and applause. Spoken.] So, you see, my good folks, if you do not condescend to smile up- on me, I must e'en say my begging trade is no better than — Tol de rol, &c. NOISY NEIGHBOURS. At Cork there lived a brazier,, Who, in making pans and kettles, His workmen would amaze you, They were such noisy devils! The brazier's scolding deary Opposed the sounding hammer With tongue that waged contrary, r In everlasting clamour. There was grumbling and chattering, hammering and battering, Tinkering and clattering, polishing and planishing, Reddels, greddels, spits, and kettles, Covers for plates and Romford grates, Soldering cauldrons, lamps and lan- terns, Ladles, racks, and roasting jacks. Old Vulcan, forging direlul arms, Ne'er spread such thundering alarms. L3 114 COMIC SONGS. *■*■++■+*■+**++*■+»■++++. Their brats were ever squalling, And outraged all contounders ; In the street was constant bawling— Of women selling "flounders." A lodger in the attic Instructed little drummers; Outside was Serjeant Tactic Exercising gunners ! There zvas firing guns and beating drums, Squalling, bawling, grumbling and chattering, &c. Next door a spruce old maiden Kept fifty spanking mousers, Who all the day were raging At puppies and big towsers ; The cats, when tired of fighting, All scampered to the pantiles, Their caterwauling might then Have frightened Jews and Gentiles. (Imitating cats spitting and fighting .J With growling and swearing, scratch- ing and tearing, Firing "guns and beating drums, Squalling, bawling, grumbling and chattering, &c HUMOURS OF BARTLEMY FAIR. COME, bustle, neighbour Sprig, Clap on your hat and wig, In our Sunday clothes so gaily Let us strut up the Old Bailey ; Oh, the devil take the rain, We may never go again. See, the shows have begun, O rare O ! Remember Mr. Snip — To take care of Mrs. Snip ; — There's the little boy from Flanders, And that 'ere's Master Saunders, Stand aside, and we'll have a stare O ! How full's the fair — Lord Mayor, Ail is flurry — hurry skurry, Girls squalling — showmen bawling, Cats throwing — trumpets blowing, Rattles springing — monkeys grin- ning, Rope dancing — horses prancing, Sausage frying — children crying, Dogs of knowledge — come from col- Slack wire — eating fire, Learned pigs— rum rigs, g _ Mutton pies — of pigmy size, Funny clowns — ups-and-downs, Round about— all out, What a throng — push along, Polito's show — all the go, Just in time — that's prime ! To enjoy all the fun of the fair O ! Spoken.'] Valk up, ladies and gentle- men, here is the wonderful beastes and beastesses, just arrived from Ben- gal in the Vest Indies — only look, marm, at this here beautiful hanimal no less than two hundred spots on his body, but no two alike, every vone different ; — it's out o' the power of any limmer to describe him. — Well, posi- tively, I never saw such a beautiful creature in all my born days — did you, sir 1 — A d — n'd fine looking animal, 'pon my soul, mem. — Master Show- man, how long do you suppose that creature is? — Measures fifteen feet from the snout to the tail, and only twelve feet from the tail to the snout ; lives, d — me lives, to the hadvanced age of vour hundred ears, grows an inch and a half every hanual ear, and never comes to his proper growth. — Stir him up there with the long pole, keeper — only hear how he roars ! Here, here, the only booth in the fair, for the greatest curiosity in all the known world — the vonderful and surprizing Hottentot Wenus is here, who mea- sures three yards and three quarters round — Hey down, ho down, &c. When the fair is at the full, In gallops a mad bull, Puts the rabble to the rout, Lets all the lions out : Down falls Mrs Snip, With a monkey on her hip ; We shall all be swallowed up, I de- clare O ! Roaring boys — gilded toys, Lollipops — shilling hops. Tumble in — just begin, Cups and balls — wooden walls, Gin and bitters — apple fritters, Pudding nice — penny a slice, Shins of beef — stop thief, A bang-up swing — just the thing, A dead dog — among the mob, Lost hats — squalling brats, Lost shoes — kangaroos, O Polly— where's Molly 1 Bow wow — what a row ! Is kicked up in Bartlemy Fair O ! Sjoken.'] Here, here, show 'cm up COMIC SONGS. 115 here, show 'em up here — Now's your time, ladies and gentlemen, — only two pence, only two pence, to see that sur- prizing conjurer, the emperor of all the conjurers! — who will forfeit the enormous sum of one hundred pounds to any one who shall perform the like wonders. — Yes, yes, ladies and gen- tlemen, I am no common slight of hand man; the common slight of hand men, they turn the things up their sleeves, and make you believe their fingers deceive y our eyes. — Now, sir, you shall draw one card, two cards, three cards, four cards, half a dozen cards ; you look at the card on this here side, you look on the card on that side, and I say, blow — by the high and abominable, a ho be bo pe I Jacko, cracko feito — swift, fly, begone quick presto passa largo mento he cocolorum, the card is flown ! where is it gone to 1 Aye that's the question. — Be so kind, sir, as to stop that young woman from getting out of the crowd ; I suppose she little thinks that I knows the card's concealed under her garter ; come, come, don't be ashamed, young Woman: bring it forward, bring it forward, and let me hold it up, that all the company may have a squint at it; there, there, hello boys, huzza. Hey down, ho down, &e. Now the beast with hungry tooth In anger 'tacks the booth ; Away affrighted run Birds and eagles of the sun ; Down tumbles trot-legg'd Rolla, "Who tips 'em the view hollo. Poor Cora's in the mud, O rare O ! Spoken.'] Here, here, valk up, ladies and gentlemen ; here is the vonderful kangaroo, just arrived from Bottom- house Bay. — Here is the vonderful large baboon, that danced a paddy- dow, and played at leap-frog wdth the celebrated Muster Barrington — Here is the vonderful leporous spotted torn cat, of the male spechies, vich can see as veil in the dark as vithout ever a light — Here is the vonderful little marmozet monkey, just arrived from the island of Lilliput — Hold him up to the company, master keeper — O dear me, what a beauty, to be sure ; do let me stroke the dear little inno- cent creature. La, la, how prodigious tame he is!-— Yes, marm, he is al- ways very tame to the ladies. — Yee up! governor, what's the name of that large bird there stuck up in the corner l — Vat that 'ere one 'i O that's the vonderful sun eagle, the hotterer the sun is, the higherer he flies — There's the vonderful cow, that can't live alive on the land, and dies in the vater. — Billy, Billy, my boy, run and stuff a blanket in that 'ere hole, or all the little ones vill peep for no- thing. — Here, here, now's your time, ladies and gentlemen, just a going to begin, just a going to begin — Valk up here, valk up here — I suppose you think that 'ere man's alive. Why, Lord bless your soul, he's no more alive than you or I are — stand off the steps there, boys, and make room for that gentleman in the smock frock and carbuncled nose to come down — How do you like it, sir ? — Oh, it's all d — n'd stuff. — There, only hear what a good character the gentleman gives it; he says, it is all d — n'd passable enough. — Yalk up here, valk up here, now's your time to see that vonderful vooden Roscius, Mr. Punch, for the small charge of one penny — show your tricks' to the company, Mr. P unch — CMim icking. Hey down, ho down, &c. THE LANDLADY OF FRANCE. A LANDLADY of France, she loved an officer, 'tis said, And this officer he dearly loved her brandy, oh ! Sighed she, " I love this officer, al- though his nose is red, And his legs are what his regiment call bandy oh!" But when the bandy officer was or- dered to the coast, How she tore her lovely locks that look'd so sandy, oh ! " Adieu, my soul," says she, " if you write pray pay the post ; But, before we part, let's take a drop ot brandy oh!" She filled him out a bumper, just be- fore he left the town, And another for herself, so neat and handy, oh ! So they kept their spirits up, by their pouring spirits down, For love is like the cholic, cured with brandy, oh ! 116 COMIC SONGS. ' Take a bottle on't," says she, " for you are going into camp, In your tent you know, my love, 'twill be the dandy, oh!" ' Your right," says he, " my life, for a tent is very damp ; And 'tis better with my tent to take some brandy, oh!" THE WONDERFUL METRO- POLIS. Air. — The Tortoiseshell Tom Cat. Oh ! what a town, what a wonderful metropolis, Sure such a town as this was never seen; Mayor, common-councilmen, citizens, and populace, Wandering from Poplai to Turn- ham-green. Chapels, churches, synagogues, distil- leries, and county-banks, Poets, Jews, and gentlemen apotheca- ries, mountebanks ; There's Eethiem Hospital, and there the Picture Gallery, And there's Sadler's Wells, and there the Court of Chancery. Oh, such a town, such a wonderful metropolis, Sure such a town as this was never seen. Oh, such a town, and such a heap of carriages, Sure such a motley group was never seen; Such a swarm of young and old, of buryings and marriages, All the world seems occupied in a ceaseless din. There's the Bench, and there's the Bank, now only take a peep at her, And there's Rag Fair, and there the East London Theatre, There's St. James's all so fine, St Giles's all in tattery , Where fun and frolic dance the rig from Saturday to Saturday. Oh, what a town, what a wonderful metropolis, Sure such a town as this was never seen. MAN IS FOR THE WOMAN MADE. Man, man, man, is for the woman made, And the woman's made for man : As the spur is for the jade, As the scabbard for the blade, As for digging is the spade, As for liquor is the can, So man, man, man, is for the woman made, And the woman's made for man. Man, man, man, is for the woman made. And the woman's made for man : As the sceptre's to be sway'd, As tor night's the serenade, As for pudding is the pan, As to cool us is the fan, So man, man, man, is for the woman made, And the woman's made for man. Man, man, man, is for the woman made. And the woman's made for man : Be she widow, wife, or maid ; Be she wanton, be she staid ; Be she well or ill array'd; W — e, b — d, or harridan ; Yet man, man, man, is for the woman made, And the woman's made for man. DASH MY VIG ! Air.—', Derry down" ADOO and farewell to this wile smoky town, Vere not nothing but rioting never goes down ; In a little small cottage, that's not wery big, I'll live all the rest of my life — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. I fell deep in love with a ravishing maid, And she was a straw bonnet builder by trade ; Her name it was Mary Ann Dorothy Twig, But she used me shamefully bad — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. At half-arter-eight every night I did meet her, And then at half-price to the play I did treat her ; COMIC 80N&6. 117 Sometimes, too, ve vent quite full drest to a jig, And valtz'd till the morning ve did — Dash my vig. Tol de rol, &c. I ax'd her to marry — she scornfully said, She wondered how such a thought com'd in my head ; For a journeyman-grocer she loved — Mr. Figg, . And he was the man she should ved — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. She married the grocer, and soon I couid see, She cock'd up her nose half a yard above me ; And her husband himself behaved just like a pig, For he told me to valk myself off — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. I'd a good mind to challenge him, pistols I'd got, But I did net at all like the thoughts i of a shot ; I couldn't say nothing my heart was so big, So I syth'd, and I then valk'd avay — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. Your poets and authors they say love is blind, And 'tis true, sure and certain, and . that I did find, Or it never could be she could choose such a prig, Instead of a young man like me — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. Adoo and farewell, I retires to the glades Of forests and woods, and their sweet wernal shades ; Where in my own garden I'll plant, and I'll dig, And I vont come to Lunnun no more — Dash my vig ! Tol de rol, &c. LONDON ADULTERATIONS. Air . — Dennis Brulgruddery . LONDON tradesmen, 'tis plain, at ] ■ no roguery stop, They adulterate every thing they've in their shop ; You must buy what they sell, and they'll sell what they please, For they would, if they could, sell the moon for green cheese. Sing, tantarantara, what terrible rogues. Imitation, 'tis well known, is now all the rage ; t Every thing imitated is in this rare age ; Tea, coffee, beer, butter, gin, milk — and, in brief, No doubt they'll soon imitate mutton and beef. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The grocer sells ash leaves and sloe leaves for tea, Ting'd with Dutch pink and verdigris, just like Bohea ; What sloe poison means you'll be slow finding out, We shall all to a T soon be poison 'd, no doubt. Sing, tantarantara, &c. Other grocers for pepper sell trash cail'd P. D And burnt horse-beans for coffee — how can such things be ? Now, I really do think those who make such a slip, And treat us like horses, deserve a horsewhip. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The milkman, although he he is ho- nest he vows, Milks his pump night and morn, quite as oft as his cows ; Claps you plenty of chalk in 3^0 ur score — what a bilk ! And, egad, claps you plenty of chalk in your milk. Sing, tantarantara, &:c. The baker will swear all his bread's made of Hour ; But just mention alum, you'll make him turn sour ; His ground bones and pebbles turn men skin and bone ; We ask him for bread, and he gives us a stone. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The butcher puffs up his tough mut- ton like lamb, And oft for South Down sells an old mountain ram ; 118 COMIC SONGS. Bleeds poor worn-out cows to pass off for white veal, For which he deserves to die by his own steel. Sing, tantarantara, &c. A slippery rogue is the cheesemonger, zounds ! For with kitchen-stuff oft he his butter compounds ; His fresh eggs are laid over the water, we know, For which faith he over the water should go. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The brewer a chymist is that is quite clear, For we soon find no hops have hopp'd into his beer ; 'Stead of malt, he from drugs brews his porter and swipes, So no wonder that we have so oft the drug-gripes. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The tobacconist smokes us with short cut of weeds, And finds his returns of such trash still succeeds ; With snuff of ground glass and dust oft we're gull'd, And for serving our noses so his should be pulled. Sing, tantarantara, &c. The wine merchant, that we abroad may not roam, "With sloe-juice and brandy makes our port at home, The distillers their gin have with vitriol filled, So 'tis clear they're in roguery double distilled. Sing, tantarantara, &c. Thus we rogues have in grain, and in tea, too, that's clear, But don't think, I suppose, we have any rogues here ; Present company's always excepted you know, So wishing all rogues their deserts, I must go. Sing, tantarantara, &c. HOPPITY, KICKITTY, BOW WOW WOW. THERE was a meiTy widow, and she was very fat, She had a heavy purse, and she wa'u't the worse for that ; She was blind of one eye, and she squinted with the other ; She had a wooden leg, which hobbled with its brother. Going hoppity, kickitty, bow wow wow, Oh, beware of love ! beware of love ! She cocked her squinting eye at me, I thought her nought averse ; I cast at her, too, one sheep's eye, another at her purse ; Then I asked her for her hand, truly thinking I had won her ; But she gave me her wooden foot plump in the seat of honour. Going hoppitty, kickity, &c. I persevered and won her, and bore my prize away ; But oh! she died of drinking upon the wedding-day"; I came in for her thumping purse, just like a hive of honey. But I had all her debts to pay, and that boned all my money. Going- hoppity, kickitty, &c. THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF ADAM AND EVE. I SING, I sing of good times older, When men than women were the bolder ; When bills were short, and credit shorter, And when from malt they brew'd the porter : When lawyers were too proud to pillage, And Horseleydown was but a village ; Christmas had its Christmas carols, And ladies' sides were hoop 'd like barrels. Sing hey, Sing ho ! 1 can but grieve For the good old days of Adam and Eve. When drinking ale made strong men stronger, And doctors made folks live the longer; COMIC SONGS. 119 When our grand-dads brew'd stout October, And thought it a sin to go to bed sober : Thai was the time for games and gamtx. Vs, . When Oxford-street was covered with brambles, Hedges, and ditches, and ponds of water, But now there's nothing but bocks and mortar. Sing hey, sing ho, &c. When all young men they acted wise in Getting up to see the lark arising ; And could, unless I'm much mistaken, Eat for breakfast a pound of bacon . But now our Toms and Jerry 's gay, sir, See larks by nights and not by day, sir; Get in rows and have long parleys, And, to save their bacon, floor the Charleys. Sing hey, sing ho, &c When this very place, now covered over, Was a field of wheat, or perhaps of clover ; Two or three trees for the cattle to get under Out of the way of the lightning and thunder ; No sound was heard but the sweet birds singing, Except sometimes the London bells ringing ; But now the birds far away have fled, sirs, And we are the birds wot sings instead, sirs. Sing hey, sing ho, &c. When ladies and gentlemen, without baulking, Could go into Hyde-park a walking, And without a bit of fuss or bother, Could walk from one end to the other : But now there is a brazen statue, Who seems ashamed, for he can't look at you ; The folks do say 'tis called a trophy, But the ladies won't look, and the men say, O fie ! Sing hey, sing ho, &c. When young folks when they went a ' t wooing, ■ Kept to themselves what they were doing, And did contrive their love to smother- Quite unbeknown to their father and mother ; And then by a New Marriage Act so scarish They told the affair to all the parish, Took affidavits ; and, what is more, sirs, Their names they stuck up on the church-door,, sirs. Sing hey, sing ho, &c. When every man, whether wise or ninny, Was pleased at the sight of a good old guinea : The front of it had King George's face on, And the back the arms and the old spade ace on ; But now the sovereigns, I can tell you, They are not worth so much in value ; And there St. George is without a rag- on, Galloping over an ugly dragon. hey, sing ho, &c. Sing] WHAT'S A WOMAN LIKE? A WOMAN is like to— but stay, What a woman is like who can say ? There's no living with nor without one. Love bites like a fly — Now an ear, now an eye, Buz, buz, always a buzzing about one. When she's tender and kind, She is Ike, to my mind, (And Fanny was so I remember,) She is like to — oh dear, She's as good, very near, As a ripe melting peach in September. If she laugh and she chat, Play, joke, and all that, And with smiles and good humour she meet me, She's like a rich dish Of venison or fish, That cries from the table come eat me. But she'll plague and sh'll vex you, Distract and perplex you, False hearted and ranging, Unsettled and changing, What then do you think she is like? Like a sand, like a rock, Like a wheel, like a clock — Aye a clock that is always at strike. 120 COMIC SONGS. Her head's like the island folks tell on, Where nothing but monkies can dwell on. Her heart's like a lemon — so nice, She carves for each lovei a slice. In truth, she's, to me, Like the wind, like the sea, "Whose raging will hearken to no man. Like a mill, like a pill, Like a Hail, like a whale, Like an ass, like a glass, Whose image is constant to no man. Like a flower, like a shower, Like a fly, like a pie, Like a pea, like a flea, Like a thief, like — in brief, She's like nothing on earth but a woman. MARGATE STEAM-PACKET. Air. — The Military Air of the Nightingale. A SHORT farewell to smoke and noise, We are off to taste sweet Margate joys : The steam-boat waits, you'll be too late — If you doubt, haste to the the Tower -stairs. See the sun sheds forth his light ; There's not a single cloud in sight. Whilst all sorts meet in LowerThames- street, And coaches hasten with their fares. Oyster-dealers — fish-fags — sailors — Gentry— tradesmen— porters—nailers. All is bustle, noise, and prate, Around sweet smelling Billiusgate. Eight o'clock's the time for going, To and fro see wherries rowing Whilst the muddy Thames is flowing. Make haste, coachman ; pray get on, Hollo ! mate, pull up, I say, Your fish-cart here stops all the way, I cant sit standing here all day ; The steam-boats sure will all be gone. Spoken.'] Boat, your honour ? — Yes. — Now, ma'am, mind how you goes ; be careful, sir ; there, there you are. — How much is your fare ? — Eight- een-pence, sir. — What, eighteen-pence for six yards ? — Vy, there's three on ~-e, sixpence a piece. — Why, 'tis a highway robbe^. — No, sir, it an't no robbery at all ; and if it was a robbery, E it could'nt be a highway robbery* because it vas on the vater. — Why, 'tis a disgrace to the law of the land. — I tell you, sir, you're on the water ; and if you don't like to pay me, I'll p»t you ashore in the mud for nothing. — Lauk, pa, pay me man ; you knows when you goes to Rome vou must do as Rome does. — Yes, ma am ; and if you don't make haste on board, there be no room there. — Ah! here's Mr. Smelt, the fishmonger j how are you, sir? Oh, werry middling. How are you, ma'am? — Oh, sir, I am as lively as a grig, but Mr. Smelt is like a fish out o' water whenever he's out a plea- suring a bit ; but you see what a pickle I'm in. — Ah! see, she wanted to show her gility in jumping into the boat as brisk as an eel, when her foot slipt, and down she came as ilat as a flounder. — Ah ! my dear, I never minds trifles, but you hav'n't no sole, you ought to be above fish now. — Well, ma'am, so he is ; that is, if there are any in the Thames. — Bless me, how d'ye do, Miss Goose ? — Oh, my dear Mrs. Smelt, I am in such a puck- er, I think I must faint. Do you know there's a large fire on board the vessel : and if it should catch, we must be either burnt or drowned. Oh, here's the steward. Pray, sir, is there any danger ? — Madam, not the least. I beg you will not be uneasy ; I can swim like a duck, and if the vessel should catch, you can jump on my back, you know, and I'll convey you onshore. — I wonder how the works are constructed. She seems to fly. — She! did you say? This vessel can't be a she : this is an .Eclipse. — I'll tell you. madam, how and all about the works. You must know there's a great big large iron copper pot under the fire ; no over the fire, and the fire is under that, I mean ; and then there's the steam-engine, and the steamers that they boils the legs of mutton in, and the fire being under the boiler, and the boiler being over the fire, the fire makes the water boil, for there's the hot water, and the cold water, and the engine, and the steam, and the wheels, and the smoke, and, and, and, that's the way we goes along, madam. — Madam, that old gentleman has given you so bad an explanation, if you'll give me leave, I will entirely COMIC SONGS. 121 explain it. The old gentleman said, there was a copper iron pot ; now the copper is not a copper, but a boiler ; and being a boiler, how can it be a copper ? and if it is made ot iron, how can it be made of copper? and not being made of copper, it follows that it must be of iron ; now the fire is un- der the boiler, the water boils over, and it falls into the safety .valves, and is conducted through conducters to a spout at the side of the vessel, and that sets the wheels going, and the wheels sets the engine going, and the engine sets the vessel going Thus every object as we go, For conversation gives a theme, Each mode of travelling is below The pleasures of a Margate steam. The water now gets much more wide, A large expanse is on each side : We slide along, the sea so strong, Much faster than a horse could stride ; And now to catch the fresh'ning gale, The sailors quick hoist up a sail, Which soon does fill, and quicker still, We leave each vessel at our tail : The wind gets up, the waters swell, The steward's man comes with his bill, Whilst steady! steady! quick does chime, Announces that 'tis dinner time ; < One by one we slowly go, to the cabin down below, Where seated, eating sweet delights, Soon settles all our appetites. Spoke?i.'] Fine mutton, my dear ; I'd advise you not to eat too much.— Oh, papa, the sea air has gived me sitch a happy tit e> that I could eat a bushel ; only think, all drest by steam. — Well, my dear, I'm in a stream. — Pray, ma'am, were you ever at sea before 1 — ]Slo,sir, but I've been up to Rich- mond in a cutter. — Ah, ma'am, this is much more pleasanter, we don't want oars here. — No, sir, but I'm glad to see -so many skulls here. — Skulls, ma'am ? — Yes ; and the ladies i feather their skulls. — Yes, sir; and you gentlemen are not behind, for most on board seem to have skulls as light as a feather.— Well, my dear, have you made a good dinner ? — Very, sir,— Ah! this is better than travel- ling by coach ; stopping to dine, and being allowed eight minutes ; five of which are taken up in placing it on the table, so that by the time the first mouthful is in, the coachman comes in with, 'Ladies and gentlemen, all ready, can't wait.' — Oh, the devil take all travelling but by steam. — Bless me, what's the matter 1 oh, papa, I'm so bad — Why I feel rather qual- mish myself, oh! oh! O! I must go on deck. — Bless me, how rough the sea is. — Yes, sir, Daddy Neptune has got his night-cap on. — Oh, I wish I had mine on, and was snug in my bed in St, Martin's Lane.— Och! what an imposition. — A what, sir?— An imposition ; for what else can it be, to make a man sick directly after eating so comfortable a dinner. Oh ! what will I do ? oh ! — Why, sir, if you were to go over to the other side of the vessel, you might put your head over the side ; but now, you see, the wind blows it directly on those who have no inclination to be sick. — Incli- nation ! oh, by the powers, the devil of inclination have I at all, at all. — Lauk, father, if there an't a mill-stone. — A millstone, pho ! pho ! 'tis a buoy. — A boy ! I'm sure it 'bant like a boy, nor a man either. What's it for? — Why 'tis to guide the ships. — How green the water is, father. — Yes, my dear, the sea is green, and the taste is salt. — What is it m this pond they catch ail the salt fish? — How long shall we be before we get to Margate I — Oh, not long, as we can see the pier very plain. — What birds are those? — Those, sir, are sea-gulls. — Sea-gulls ; oh ! I have heard of them ; are there many of them about Mar- gate ? — Oh yes, sir ; Margate has al- ways been reckoned a famous place to see gulls? — Indeed! do the people of the place catch them to eat? — Why, sir, though not exactly to eat, they may be said to live entirely on them; they pluck all that's worth having, and set them flying again, and in the course of the season, "they stand a chance of picking them up again. — Why look, what c^gsreat com- pany on the pier. — Well, miss, how do you find yourself now 1 — Oh, sir, 122 COMIC SONGS. I'm much better than I were. — You were ? you was, you should say. — Say where 1 was, papa 1 why I was along with that squinting lady in the cabin, and directly she came in, I said, says I, we shall all be ill, and so we was. — So we were ; have you forgotten your grammer? I was sick, he was sick, we were sick, they were sick. — Truly, papa, I think we were all sick ; but 1 dont like you to catch at all that falls from my mouth. — Well, sir, how do you like the Eclipse ? — Why, sir, I tnink as most folks do; the Eclipse is the Favourite ; she goes so swift, and has something so Majestic about her, that in a race with even the Engineer, she would be sure to gain the Victory. Thus every object, &c. MOSES AND RACHAEL ; Air. — Over the Water to Charley. WHEN I was a poy, and 1 did go to school, And I came home at night a good learner, My moder vas kind, and e'er made it a rule To shave me de fire-shide oarm cor- ner. And vhen I grew pig I did marry a vife, And vork'd to buy clothes to adorn her, But vhen day's vork vas done 'tvas de shoy of mine life At night to sit down in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c. Shelling rhuparps and hardvare, I tra- velled apout, Of monish I vas a good earner, And vhen I come home dhen my pipe I pull'd out, And smoked vhilst I shat in the corner. But now dhat my vife's in de family vay, She's so stupporn de tevil can't turn her, She's longing for every ting nice all de day, And at night she vill sit in my cor- ner. And sing tol de rol, &c. She shat dere vhen vone night I came back vid my vare, And dere I did quickly discern her ; Now Rachael, said I, you have no pusiness dere, You shall not sit dere in dat corner. Oh ! yes, but I vill though, now Moey, said she, And you may, if you like, look still sterner, De place is soyarm, it shuits me to a T, Oh ! how nicely I sit in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c. She stuck to the stool close, vhich made me enraged, I vish'd dat de Prophet vould purn her: And a long var of vords petween us vas vaged, Apout vhich should sit down in de corner. Now, Rachael, sak? I, on de faith of my vord, Dhis quarrel shall make you for- lorner, I've told you two times, now dere is de third, I'm tamm'd if you sit in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c. Dhen I, in a rage, for she laughed in my teeth, Sheized hold of de stool which had porne her, I pull'd and I tugg'd 'till it vas from peneath My vife, who fell squat in de corner. Dere, madam, shaicl 1, I have now got your sheat ; But she told me it didn't concern her; She still had one stool, and she vould, in my teet, Continue to sit in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c. Soon from dhese high vords did ve poth come to plows, I fought hard in future to vara her Dhat I vould pe master, and under my nose She never should sit in de corner. Dhen her moder came up, and my vife did pegin To tell her how now 1 did spurn her; "Dhere, moder, you know vhat a state I am in, Yet he vont let me sit in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c COMIC SONGS. 123 Her moder shaid — vhat ! vould you ill-treat my girl 1 Now she's pig vould you make her a mourner! Vhat ! ill-treat ray daughters ! now I shay she shall Sit in your sight in da corner . And dere comes your fader to shay de shame ting ; Vhat, Isaacs, de turner and homer, My shild to your shon a large fortune did pring, Yet he von't let her sit in de corner. And sing tol de rol, &c. My fader py marriage had long pe- come meek, And he said I did wrong thus to scorn her, For de shild might pe mark'd vith a stool on de sheek If my vife did't sit in de corner. O'erruled py his vords, I gave up to my spouse, And soon of dhis truth vas a learner Dhat vives vhen dey like vill sit all o'er de house If you vonce let 'em sit in de comer. And sing tol de rol, &c. MR. AND MRS. VITE'S JOURNEY. A VORTHY cit, von Vitsunday. Vith vife rode out in von-horse chay, And down the streets as they did trot, Says Mrs. Vite, I'll tell you vot, Dear Villiam Vite, 'tis my delight, Ven our veeks' bills ve stick ' em, That, side by side, ve thus shou'd ride To Vindsor or Vest Vickham. My loving vife, full veil you know, Ve used to ride to Valthamstow, But now I thinks it much the best That ve should ride tovards the vest. If you agree, dear vife vith me, And vish to change the scene, . Then, ven the dust excites our thirst, Ve'll stop at Valham-green. Veil, then, says Mrs. Vite, sa3^s she, Vat pleases you must sure please me, But veekly vorkings all must go If ve this day go cheerful through, For veil I loves the voods and groves, They raptures put me in ; For you know, Vite, von Vitsun-night, You did my poor heart vin. Then Mrs. Vite she took the vip, And vacked poor Dobbin on the hip, Vich made him from a valk run fast, And reach the long-vished sign at last. Lo, ven they stopt; out vaiter popt, Vat vould you vish to take, Saj^s Vite, vith grin, I'll take soom gin My vite takes vine and cake. Ven Mrs. Vite had took her vine, To Vindsor on they vent to dine. Ven dinner o'er Mr. Vite did talk, My darling vife ve'll take a valk ; The path is vide by vater-side, So ve vill valk together; Vile they gets tea tor you and me, Ve vill enjoy the veather. Some von ton Eton boys there vere Vich marked for vaggery this pair ; Mrs. Vite cried out vat are they arter ? Ven in they popped Vite in the vater. The vicked vits then left the cits, Ven Vite the vaves sunk under, She vept, she squalled, she vailed, she bawled, Vill not none help, I vonder. Her vimpering vords assistance brought, And vith a boat-hook Vite they sought ; Ven she, vith expectation big. Thought Vite vas found, but twas liis vig. Vite vas not found, for he vas drowned; To stop her grief each bid her ; Ah ! no, she cried, I vas a bride, But now I is a vidder. PAUL PRY'S NEW LONDON DIRECTORY FOR 1826. Air. — Four-and-twenty Fiddlers all of a Row. FOUR-AND-TWENTY tradesmen, all of a row, Four-and-twenty tradesmen, all of a row. CHANT. There's Hoby and Roby, and Cater and Prater, And Weston and Preston, and Hooper and Cooper ; Hunter and Gunter, Brecknell and Cracknell ; Hatchett, the coachmaker, who lived in Long-Acre ; France and Banting, who'll furnish what's wanting ; M 3 124 COMIC SONGS. Epps, who is chief baron of ham and beef ; Nugee, of Saint James's, who suits every body complete ; And Tommy Dollman, too, in the opposite street ; Rundell and Bridge, who could (so we're told) Pave half London (if they liked it) with silver and gold ; Chap pel and Sams, who in price never vary, Because in all their dealings they're stationary ; Then there's the far-famed, liberal, and spirited Charles Wright. Who sells as good Champagne as any man in England, not almost but quite ; Dixon, of the Repository, who in horse-matters all, Would, if he could, be thought the City Tattersall ! Light and Flight, and Merry and Perry ; Hancock and Shepherd, in Waterloo- Place Where no one should go who's asha- med to show his face ; Humphrey, of St. James's Street, the caricaturist ; ay, and stop ! Johnny Fairburn, of the Broadway, Ludgate-Hill, whose well-known shop, For caricatures and books, will make you laugh, and many a shilling drop ; Todds, the linen-draper, who, but no doubt you've read it, Deals for ready money only, and ne- ver gives a morsel of credit ; George Robins, of the Piazza, who's a very fair dealing fellow, And where, by the by, I popped in, the other day and gave only three- and-sixpence for this beautiful umbrella! Besides Flint, the haberdasher, so famed Tor ribbons and laces. Who has shops in Fleet-street, Bond- street Regent-street, Oxford-street Lombard-street, and a thousand other places, Enough to fill a tolio volume from the very top of the page to the bot- tom, down below," In this Paul Paul Pry's Directory, To make the public merry ! Four-and-twenty new streets all of a row, Four-and-twenty new streets all of row. CHANT. There's Regent-street, that was built by Mr. Nash, For those who can pay a good rent and cut a dash ; Dorrington-street and Torrington-st. Arlington-street and Burlington-street, Belgrove-square, where the houses are very dear, And where you should have at least a couple of thousand a-year; The Colonade and the Arcade, neither of zvhich, they say, has ever paid ; Cork-street and York-street, and Ro- mer-street, and Cromer-street ; Mornington crescent, that is so very pleasant ; Alpha-cottages, for old folks in their dotages ; York-avenue, a better you never knew; Maida-vale, if the air you'd inhale ! Lisson-grove, if you wish to rove ; The North Bank and the South Bank, For your nabobs and folks of rank ; Connaught-place and Cornwall ter- race; And then, I'd quite forgot it, there is The Piccadilly Quadrant, where is owing a httle odd rent ; And the New Mary-bone Bazaar, though it's somewhat too far ; Besides Circles, ay, and Circuses, where half the houses are in car- cases, And have brought most of their build- ers, from the very top of the bricks and mortar, to the work- houses, down below. This is Paul Pry's, &c. Four-and-twenty exhibitions, all of a row, Four-and-twenty exhibitions, all of a row. CHANT. There's the Apollonicon and Panhar- f monicon ; \ The Cosmorama, theAncientArmour ; ! The Cigar Divan, where you may J smoke, if you can ; The Exhibition at the Royal Academy, Where many a shilling they've yearly had of me, Though Suffolk street would have been more glad of me ; COMIC SONGS. 125 Bullock's Museum, the Colliseum ; The Piccadilly's Bronze Achilles ; The Diorama, in Regency-Park, Where, as to their lights, we're quite in the dark; The Burmese state-carriage, which may the Lord Mayor's disparage; The famed Living Skeleton, who, For a fact they really tell it one, But, between you and me, (pray let it go no farther,) "Wears nothing before but a very little apron on ; The Eidoraneum, which is, partly, the work of Mr. Bartley ; The Exhibition of Water-colours, done by very clever fellows ; Miss Linwood's prime collection, too, of needle-work, There's none can say that hers is idle- work ; The Infant Lyra, all admire her ; The waxen Venus, which, between us, displays a great deal of natural genius ; The Lady Godiva, which, by the by, Makes some of our old tabbies cry out "oh, fie !" The Autwmatons, which they say, Will beat human nature any day ; All offering their attractions to Hoby and Roby, Crater and Prater, &c. down below. This is Paul Pry's, &c. Four-and-twenty prime hotels, all of a row, Four-and-twenty prime hotels, all of a row. CHANT. There's Long's -and Fladong's, Bat- son's and Matson's, White's and Wright's; Honest John Lomas's, just over West- minster-bridge, which, they say, You'll find equal to any one in Eng- land, if you like to stay, And where you may have every thing in the family -way For so moderate a pay that you'll never wish to stray ; The Clarendon, that's free for folks of every rank, That is if they have only plenty of money in the Bank ; Stevens's and Evans's, the Worcester and the Gloucester ; The Petersburg, in Dover-street, Where you must paya guinea a mouth- ful far all you eat ; Besides the famed Freemasons, where, if you take your dinner, Depend upon't you'll not grow any thinner ; The Hummums which, if you would rest your head, Is just the place to get a bath anp bed ; The London, where nothing is left undone ; Peels, where the lawyers kick their heels ; And the Sabloniere. where every thing that's there is Served up in the French fashion, quite a-la-mode de Paris, And where, between you and I, though to tell it I grieve, (I had it from the landlord,") many of the customers have lately taken French leave; All offering their attractions to Hoby and Roby, &c. This is Paul Pry's, &c. PARODY ON THE WOLF. AT the peaceful midnight hour, When by love and hunger's power I am kept from downy sleep, Nightly I to Molly creep; Whilst the cats upon the tiles Mew their loves for many miles, O'er the gutters lightly hopping, Through the garret-window dropping. Silence ! or my master wakes. Lay the cloth and broil the steaks ; Beef-steaks and onions crown our blisses, Bread and cheese and balmy ki ses. THE ASSEMBLY BALL. Air — Darby Kelly. AN assembly-ball, delight of all, The fiddlers take their places, O ; A sprighty harp, two violins, A tabor, pipe, and basses, O. The parties they all enter gay, The old, the young, the pretty ; And waddling in, with goggling grin. The warm ones from the City. Here's Mrs. Squab, from Pewt'rers' HalL And Mrs. Pipps. from Aldgate, O, And Messrs. Candlewick and Son, Full puff from Norton Folgate, O SpokenJ] Now, Ladies and gentle- men, as I am master of the ceremonies. 126 COMIC SONGS. I beg you'll all take your places. Come, little Miss Snaggle, you must obey me, I am M. C. La, ma ! what does he mean by M. C. 1 Governess told me that M. C. always stood for manuscript. There's a good girl to remember your lessons. (Gruff voice.} It's very hot ; I should like summut to drink. Fie, Mr. Blubber, what a hurry you are in to be thirsty. Well, I wish they'd hand summut round. There'll be hands four rottnd in a mi- nute, sir. Now do, my dear, wait till the first six dances are over, and then we'll have a glass of lemonade. Now, (claps hands,) Miss Pinchbeck, allow me the honour to introduce you to a partner. Thank you, sir, but I dance with papa's partner. Yes ; and he seems to be dancing attendance up- on you — he, he,_ he — excuse me : your papa's partner is, I believe, a silver- smith and pawnbroker : when the happy day arrives, as he is fond of dancing, 1 hope he'll give us three balls miss — ha, ha, ha ! he, he — now for it — start off. Thus old and young, and fair and fat, Are capering round the hall so, With jumps and lumps, and pumps and thumps, At our assembly -ball so. Thus jigging gay, and frisk away, Wives, sisters, cousins, brothers, O, All relations and all trades, Hop factors and step mothers, O. Hand in hand, delightful band, Spirits in a nutter, Till every one appeared to be Like July Cambridge butter. Says Bobby Prance " I'm just from France, To jig it I am willing, O ; 'Twas werry rum I could'nt come Their waltzing and quHdrilling,0." Spoken.'] Give me a plain English country-dance, and let me blunder through it ; none of your elegant awk- wardness, skating over the floor, with arms and legs, like the sails of a wind- mill. (Gruff.) What's to be done, my vife's dropped her ridicule in this here bowl of negus here. (Old lady.) How ver3 r silly now, every body's a laughing at us. Oh, never mind the ridicule, ma'am. No more I shouldn't, sir, but the key of the street-door is in it. M y dear miss, you don't know the. ifc-'ures. Well, perhaps the >oung lady never larnt arithmetic: come, now swing corners, now right hand and left, now pussy-cat. What? pussy- cat ; poh, nonsense: pousette, you. mean. Oh, la ! ah! that's it. (Affect* edly.) Hey, hollo ! here's a gentleman come in that seems non compos : please to take off yojjjhat, sir. (Man, stu- pidly drunhg^W see you (hiccup) hanged firsi^I paid my money, sir, and I conie to fetch Mrs. Puncheon home, sflk Mrs. Puncheon's my wife, sir, ' \d'».m her husband, sir. La ! ho iip /nuking: we asked pa to fetch us home,- and he's been at his old tricks : look, there's a coat, ma; why he's been rolling in the mud. Go it, my old one ! now who'd have thought my wife would have made such a fool of herself kicking her heels about like a young jackass. Letitia, Jane, Belinda, my dears, go and sit before your father, and don't let him expose himself That ere old woman will dance, and I know how it will be with her. For shame, pa. I know how it will be. Be quiet, pa ; ma's only going down the middle. She'll be so ill, down the middle and up again, ah ! ah ! Thus old and young, &c. JOHN BULL AT MEURICE'S. AS the guests high or low, at Meurice's With breakfast you open the day ; Tea, coffee, eggs, ham, or who pleases May swallow hot muffins in May. If cosey in company, take it With Meurice and my Lord Hob and Nob Or, if you prefer, you may drink it Alone, like yon sulky nabob. For this is John Bull at Meurice's, As seen there again and again ; W T hen England her millions re- leases, To dance on the banks of the Seine. Spoken.'] D — 'me, I might as well be at home, no attention, d — 'me. I'll ring, ring, ring, d — 'me. I'll pull the bell down, d — 'me. 1 can get nothing, d — 'me. Here, waiter, send up your master, and I'll blow him up, d — ^ine ! There, take your bell-rope, d — 'me, (throwing it at him, which be has bio- ken.) What will you take, sir ? Take, sir? any thing and every Chiug, COMIC SONGS. 127 d — 'me! send metea ? coffee, toast, ham, cold roast beet, d — 'me, ana .mutton-chops. Waiter, the Post. He's in hand, sir. Courier, waiter. He's in hand, sir. Waiter, you've brought me both papers alike, here's tvvoTimes. Two Times, that's very bad English, sir ; you should have said twice. Press tor Herald. Press, Times, Post, and Courier ! how pleasant ; one might almost fancy one's self at the Hum- mums. Waiter, bring me Planta's Guide to Paris. It's in ha.vl, sir. Colonel Calcutta, the rich E^-. -Indian nabob, has it. Colonel Calcu^j&which is he ? That's him, sir, with two ser- vants behind him, one putting in a lump of sugar and the other stirring it. Ah ! Sir Harry Rattle, how do 1 Sir Jerry Treacle, you are welcome. Don't care, have as much right to be served as any body else. I've no no- tion. I pay my money ; been to see all the sights— the Boulevards, the Tuilleries, the Palais Royal, and the Goblin's of Tapestry : done it all in a day. A pretty good day's work. But they tell me, Sir Christopher Short-dip, you went to see the Exhi- bition or Statues with the Catalogue of Paintings. Why, yes, I made ra- ther a bit of a mi take, had both cata- logues in one pocket, and when my wife wanted to look at No. 10, the Gladiator, I told her it was Susannah at the Bath. How was I to know that Tableau warn't French for pic- tures? Well, what do you think of the Statues? Why, they are very fine, but they'd be all the better for a little washing. Yes, and none the worse for a little clothing. Here, waiter, bring my breakfast, d — 'me, tea, hot rolls, muffins, beef-steaks, and a bottle of champagne. Champagne! why, my dear fellow, no .one drinks champagne for breakfast. Don't care, only come for a week, been up four nights, shall never go to bed again. Waiter, d — m'e bring me the champagne. For this is John Bull, &c. To the belles, young and sprightly, of Paris, Now let me a stanza devote ; But the bell most admired by far is For Meurice's grand Table a y Hote. AH start at the sound, and warm work is The squeeze for an English display Of beef, pudding, potatoes, and tur- keys ; In short, all is English — but pay. Spokeri.'] Aye, every thing is French here, sir, excepting the pay — catch the idea? This is the place, sir; why, it costs me two guineas in London to get what I call properly drunk. I can do it hei%, sir, for a quarter the money, and do it handsomely too. Why, yes, half-a-guinea, sir, would find aFrench- man in wine for a month. Frenchmen ! nasty beasts ! I hate 'em, the >■ never get drunk. Aye, this is what I call a high classical dinner, plenty of legs of mutton and rounds of beef ; nothing French in it : they'll dress you an egg five different ways, and make a dozen dishes out of a shilling's worth of spin- nage. Mr. Whipstich, what shall I help you to? A remnant of goose, sir, if you please. Mr. Welt, what are you for f Souls and heels, sir. Waiter, bread. — Yes, sare. Salt. — Yes, sare. Why, you are not a Frenchman, wait- er ? — Yes, sare. Hold your tongue, and let me speak to him. Gar song parte pour pong maree. Beg your par- don, madam, 1 am not an Englishman, therefore I cannot understand your French. There's a rap on the knuckles for you, sanres you right, you will be showing off when there's no occasion. Who are those two agreeable fellows in the corner ? Oh ! that's Mr. Glum and Mr. Mum, they always sit at that round table together, and always quarrel by themselves ; listen to them. Waiter, bread. There it is before you. Where ?— There. Oh, salt. There it is. Don't want it. Don't have it, then. Oh, waiter, bring some wine. There is some. Where? There. What! in that nasty black bottle? why don't they decanter it, as they do in London, eh 1 ( tastes it ;) wine's sour. Let me taste. No, it isn't. Yes, it is. No, I say. Oh, waiter, take away. I havn't done. Who said you had? Oh! ah! ah! For this is John Bull, &c. Now, amusement is here, and the best is, 'Tis a word that takes all, and it draws ; There's Talma sublime in Orestes, 128 COMIC SONGS. And Duverner's Ombres Chinois. Now, some laugh at the crowds a3 they pass, Some for melo-dram mummeries roam : While at Paris some will sip their glass, Others stick to their bottle at home. Spoken.} Well, Mr. Dowgate, what did you do with yourself last night. Oh, why I went to the Theatre h'ran- sia, 1 think they call it, to see a trage- dy — parcel of nonsense — there was nobody killed — never made me cry — to be sure, 1 don't understand the lau- fuage, that may make some difference, 'ray, Sir II any , was you at the Grand Opera last night. Yes, mem, 1 went to see the Daniedes. La ! sir, what's that 1 Why, ?nem, one gentleman's fifty sons marries another gentleman's fifty daughters. I went to the Port St. Martin, the original warehouse for maids and magpies. I went to see the Dog of Montargis, all natural, a real dog. — Will you say as much for your Maid and Magpie ! I visited the Coffee Mille Coloime, what did you do with yourself? Why, I went where you did. Where I did, where was that ? Why, where you said. Where 1 said ; "why, where was that? Why, at the Co free Mill of Colonies. Pray, Mrs. Maggots, was you at the play last night 1 No, ma'am, 1 was at Lady Sugarloafs last night ; it was her night. Her night ! what do you mean 1 Why, every Monday night she gives what the French call a Sore Eye. Indeed ! why, then, I would recommend her to rub it with what the English call rose-water, every Tuesday morning. So this is John Bull, &c. A CHAPTER OF COOKS. AIR.- ■ The Chapter of Kings. A PRIME cook, my masters and servants, am I, A good hand at roasting, a broil, or a fry; Just look through the world, and I'll warrant you'll see 'Tis crowded with cooks, who can dish-up like me ; For however they smother the truth from each other, They're all of 'em cooks in their turn. Quack doctors are cooks, but not equal to me ; Instead of strong soups they give camomile tea. Your lawyers are cooks, too, and this is their plan — To torture their clients like eels in a pan. However they smother this truth trom each other, They're all of 'em cooks in their turn. Your sweet smiling lasses they're all ot 'em cooks, Who scorch up poorde% r i!s sometimes by their looks ; They wound us with skewers, I mean Cupid's darts, And then up to cinders they frizzle our hearts. They try much to smother this truth from each other. They're all of 'em cooks in their turn. Old maids are all cooks, and brim full of conceit, Would stuff a man's heart by an ancient recipe ; They try to make mince-meat of fop, fool, and clown, But find force-meat balls very hard to get down. They smile just to smother this truth from each other, Yet still they're all cooks in their turn. Your " prime bang up" dandies, who cut a great dash, They're cooks in a bustle to settle their hash ; They first get in debt, then to France they retire, There find they've left all the fat in the fire. They gamble to smother this truth from each other, Yet still they're all cooks in their turn. You, too, my good friends, are all cooks, that I swear, You're come here to peep at our choice bill of fare ; Vauxhall's a large kitchen, where good things are placed, And we're happy cooks when we hit off your taste ; However we smother this truth from each other, Yet each one's a cook in his turu. COMIC SONGS. 129 The proprietors, too, are all cooks without sham, Supplying most delicate slices of ham ; Boiled beet and roast fowls most delicious to munch, With porter, port-wine, sherry, champagne, and punch. Thus you see, though they smother the truth from each other, They're all of them cooks in their turn, f he steam of the kitchen, some people will say, The appetite frequently takes quite away ; That is not my case, so I'm sure you'll permit I cut short my song, just to take a small bit ; For spite of all smother of truth from each other, We all are but cooks in our turn. As a dutiful cook, 'tis but right you should know, My wife's just arriv'd, and is some- where below; Her temper's so hot, and I'm always in fear, So mum, not a word that I've been singing here ; And* as you permit, a few moments I'll quit, But, to please you, I'll quickly return. MR. AND MRS. PRINGLE. AN obstinate man had a scold for his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle ; They led, you'll suppose, a queer cat and-dog life. Like tavern-bells, always at jingle. Mr. P. was a man to his word who stuck fast, He declared — when he said it, he'd said it ; Mrs. P. stuck to her word, and would have the last, So for comfort j'ou'll give them some credit. Poor souls ! To Richmond by water determined to go. Mr. and Mrs. Pringle; He wanted the sail up, but she said no ! The thoughts of it made her tingle. He insisted it should be put up, with a frown, And declared — when he'd said it he'd said it ; She vowed if it was put up she'd pull it down, So for firmness you'll give them some credit. Firm souls! For the sail then beginning to pull and to haul, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle ; Says the boatman — " You'll into the Thames both fall, With other odd fish to mingle." And into the river they sure enough roll'd As soon as the waterman said it ; So out of hot water they got into cold, For extremes then you'll give them some credit. Wet souls. Then the drags' were procur'd, in an instant, to find Mr. and Mrs. Pringle ; Mrs. P. was brought up, but her spouse left behind ; She, in tears, cried — I'm lost, I'm left single. At length the odd fish was lugg'd out, almost drown'd, Dispelling her fears as she said it : So with nursing and kissing they speedily found That perversity gain'd 'em no credit. Loving souls ! JOHN APPLEBY. JOHN APPLEBY was a man's name, and he lived near the sign of the Kettle, His wife was cal led Joan Quiet, be- cause she could scold but a little ; John to the ale-house would go, Joan the tavern would run, John would aet drunk with the women and Joan would get drunk with the men. Sing tol de rol lol, &c. John would spend his own two- pence, and Joan would spend her groat ; Joan would pawn her best jacket, and John would pawn his best coat ; John set the porridge-pot, by, Joan sent the brass kettle to sell, 130 COMIC SONGS. The money came readily in, and they merrily spent it in ale. Sing tol de rol lol, &c. Thou art a base hussey, says John, for selling my pewter and brass ; And thou art a cuckold, says Joan, for thy ears are as long as an ass. I'll bang thy back, hussey, says John, if you give me another cross word And for thy fury and vapours, 1 tell thee, I care not a Sing tol de rol lol, &c, John he was no great eater, and Joan she was no glutton, And for to tickle their maws, they bought them a shoulder of mutton. John, in an angry mood, took the mutton in his hand, And out of the window he threw it, but Joan she was at a stand. Sing tol de rol lol, &c. Joan she was at a stand, but of it she made no matter, Immediately took in her hand, and after it threw the platter ; An old woman coming by, and seeing the mutton lay, Caught up the platter and mutton, and with them she ran away. Sing tol de rol lol, &c. The neighbours came running in, and thinking to end the quarrel, But, before they had halt done, they left ne'er a drop in the barrel ; They banged the barrel about, pulled out the spiggot, too; We'll all get drunk to-night, for what have we else to do 1 Sing tol de rol lol, &c, A TRAVELLER STOPPED AT A WIDOW'S GATE. A TRAVELLER stopped at a widow's gate ; She kept an inn, and he wanted to bait, But the landlady slighted her guest: For, when Nature was making an ugly race, She certainly moulded this traveller's face, As a sample for all the rest. The chambermaid's sides they were ready to crack, When she saw his queer nose, and the hump on his back ; (A hump isn't handsome, no doubt ;) And, though 'tis confess'd that the prejudice goes Very strongly in favour of wearing a nose, A nose shouldn't look like a snout. A bag full of gold on the table he laid, 'Thad a wond'rous effect on the widow and maid,. And they quickly grew marvellous civil : The money immediately altered the case, They were charmed with his hump, and his snout, and his face, Though he still might have frighten- ed the devil. He paid like a prince, gave the wi- dow a smack, And flopped on his horse, at the door, ' like a sack ; While the lanlady touching the chink, Cried, "Sir, should you travel this country again, I heartily hope that the sweetest of men Will stop at the widow's to drink." THE BEAUTIFUL BOY. Air .—Ballinamorioro, It was one winter's day, about six in the morn, When I, little innocent creature was born; There was doctor, and nurse, and a great many more, But none of them saw such a baby before ; They all swore I was like my pa- pa; Yes, and see there's the nose of mamma, With a few alterations, oh, la ! We'll make him a beautiful boy. To make him a beauty, cried out Mrs. Sneer, We'll be troubled, without the child has a sweet leer : Then to give me this leer, Mrs. Gla- zier arose, And a piece of red putty stuck bang on my nose. This made me wink and blink so, The ladies know'd not what to think, Oh; COMIC SONGS. 131 At last it turn'd into a squint so, All to make me a beautiful boy, To make me accomplished I wanted one thing, My mouth was too small for the dear child to sing : Then to lug it, and tug it, they all of them tried, Till they stretch'd my sweet mouth near half a yard wide, Crying, pull away now, Mrs. Ryder, It must be a little bit wider, My dear mouth they split pretty nigh, sir, All to make me a beautiful boy. Now being complete I was next sent to school, And to show off my make was stuck on a high stool : When the children went home they cried with surprise, 'We've a new boy at school with such beautiful eyes, He can look any way so hand3^, Such a mouth he has got to suck candy, ' And his legs are so preciously bandy, And they call him a beautiful boy. T'other day I was ask'd in the city to dine, The ladies in raptures all thought me divine, And all, when observing my elegant grace, Neglected their dinners to gaze on my face : They cried I shall faint with sur- prise, No gas-lights can equal his eyes, And such a sweet mouth for mince pies, Oh, dear, what a beautiful boy ! Now, ladies, beware of love's power- ful darts, For fearful 1 am I shall steal all your hearts ; And then, your dear sweet little crea- tures, you'll sigh, And doat on my charms, till you lan- guish and die ; For you know 1 can't marry you all, Yet, believe me, whenever you call, M\ endeavours will be to please all, i Although such a beautiful boy. THE BEAUTIFUL MAID. A PARODY. Air. — The Beautiful Maid. MY fishmonger he swore that his soles were most dear ; I trembled to hear what he said ; For salmon and shrimps 'twas the wrong time of year, So I pitched on a beautiful maid. I brought home my beautiful 4» maid : Here, cook, dress this beautiful maid; Go boil it, — don't spoil it, But see it w r ell done, And I'll dine on my beautiful maid. But an ugly black cat, I speak it with grief. My delicate tit-bit waylaid ; The cook turned her back, and the long-whiskered thief Ran off with my beautiful maid ; She clawed up my beautiful maid. She swore o'er my beautiful maid, Oh ! pussy, you hussey, Oh ! what have you done, You've ate up my beautiful maid. LOVE IN SEASON. LOVE in season, like sneezing, Is pleasing, not teazing, It prickles and tickles _ With fanciful joys, While toying, enjoying, She sighs out, and cries out, " You devil, be civil, And don't make a noise !" Then pressing, caressing, And ranting, and chanting, They rhyme away, time away, In a love song ; Then dance it, and prance it, And thump it, and stump it, And bump it, and rump it, All the night long ! Love in season, &c Youth over, in clover, We muzzle, and guzzle, And toast it. and roast it, Like jolly old b03 T s ! Break glasses, kiss lasses, And pick up and hiccup, And swaggering, stasgenag, Finish our joys ! 132 COMIC SONGS. Then phthisic, and physic, Blue devils us levels, Till doctor and proctor Bespeak us a grave ; Then weepers, and peepers, And moaners, and groaners, And gay men cry " amen!" And chant out a stave ! Youth over, &c THE MILL; anglice, A FIGHT. Air . — Calais-!' acket. LORDS ! how bright to-day, up be- fore light to-day, Where is the fight to-day ? — Down at the Hurst. Drags from Westminster, prads in their best mixture, All were now dressed in their best or their worst — Down the road — merry load — Kingston-hill — weary load — Moulsey ! — full ferry load— not a foot still ; Crowds to see duty done — which is the beauty one '. I'll bet you two to one, down at the mill. Spoken.] ' Who's for Moselee? who's for the mill V ' How much will you take to conduct me and my wife dawn to the scratch V 'Nine pence, come, jump up.' ' Here, your honour, go- ing down V 'How much?' 'A hog a-piece.' 'You lie, it's only thrup- pence.'' ' What do you mean by giv- ing me the lie? I'll have satisfaction.' You lie. I didn't give you the lie.' 'Here, llarlekin Billy, pull up and put his nose to the corn for a trifle of time, and we'll damp our mugs a bit,' ' I say, saucy Ned, your linchpin's out.' ' Veil, never mind, its used to it, it von't come off — seven in a tax- cart von't spill easy,' ' I say, who's that in the swell tilbury and lily ben- jamin T ' Vy, that's Lord Wicount Squinneyhat.' ' Ah, Caleb, how do — what'li you take V ' Don't care, any thing wet — a drap 0' heavy drown, with a dash 0' light blue in't.' ' Ah, j'.lr. Isaacs, how are you? — going down the road, ay — how do you bet your blunt!' Vy, I'm six to four on the dead man.' ' Why, I'm all for doughey myself.' ' Vat, de baker?' ' Yes, I'm down upon the master of the rolls.' ' I saw doughey this morn- ing.' ' Veil, how vas he ?' ' O, as merry as a grig upon a gridiron.' ' Here's five to four on the Nonpareil.' ' There go the four-in-hand swells, there's a consarn — blow my smock- frock, if ever I seed such a set-out — twig the crawlers, two tumblers, & puff- er, and a blinker — three of 'em stands still while he whips the fourth — veil, if I driv four, I vould have good'uns.' ' Why, my costermonger, you're tool- ing arum' un yourself. Y"es, arum'un to look at, but a good'un to go.' ' Ah, you never has no cattle — you never gives no price, you don't — why don't you do as I does, go to Smithfield and give Jive-and-forty shillings, and have a good'un at once.' ' Come up, and so Push along, dash along, merrily chat along, As Ave all trot along, down to the Hurst. Ropes are now tight'ning, eyes are now bright'ning, No fudge or fright'ning — look at the men — Baker shows clever now — all's in a fever now — L T p goes the beaver now — answered again — Pushing now — scrambling now- Not a nag ambling now — Prigs' fingers rambling now — all are awake — Jew lads are dealing now — all are ring feeling now — Fighters are peeling, with fifty's the stake. Spoken.'] ' Sit down, will you ? if people in the front won't sit down, people behind can't see — down there, will you ?' ' I can't.' ' You'd better say you won't.' ' Veil, then, I von't.' ' Ay, you're a spoon and a half good weight, you are.' ' Sit down, you with the lily togs, will you ?' ' Hit him on his hat with your numberreller — lay down, will you V ' Vhat, Mr. James Timkins, with his new white coat on in the mud ! no, squeege me if I do.' ' They're at it, they're coming to the scratch — the castors are up.* ' Look in good order.' ' Yes they're peeling — they buff it well.' ' Yes. 1 ' They're at it already.' 'Ten to COMIC SONGS. 145 Spoken.'] Oh, my most adorable Amelia had I words sufficiently.strong to express my admiration of your beauty, you would at once believe me your devoted lover, and complete my bliss by flying to his arms who must for ever pme for the possession of that angelic form. Hey down, ho down, &x. Then the soldier, ripe for plunder, breathing slaughter, blood, and thunder, Like a cat among the mice, kicks a dust up in a trice ; Talks of nought but streaming veins. shatter'd limbs, and scattered brains, Ail to fill up the farsical scene, O ! Fight or fly, run or die, pop or pelter, heiter skelter. Spoken.'] Aye, I shall never forget the last battle I was in, such marching and countermarching. — up the hill and down the hill, — right and left, flank and rear. Bless your heart, I have fought up to my knees in blood ; and, at the very last battle I fought in, I had six horses shot under me — saw my comrades mown down like hay ; and, just as a twenty-four-pounder was coming towards me, I drew my broad sword — cut it right in two — one half went up in the air, and the other Hey down, ho down, &c. Then, the justice, in his chair, with his broad and vacant stare, His wig of formal cut, and belly like a but, Well lined with turtle hash, callipee, and callipash, All to fill up this farsical scene, O ! Bawd and trull, pimp and cull, at his nod go to quod. Spoken.] Now, sirrrah, what's your name i — John. John what ' — No, sir, not John What — John Thomas. Well, John Thomas, what right had you to take liberties with that girl I — I did nt take liberties with her ; but I think she takes a great liberty with me, when she swears a child to me. You must father it, sirrah. — I wo'n't ; let her fa- ther it herself. What do you mean, sirrah, if you are saucy here, you must go— Hey down, ho down, &c. Then the slippered pantaloon, in life's dull afternoon, With spectacles on nose, shrunk shank in youthful hose, His voice, once big and round, now whistles in the sound, All to fill up the farsical scene. O! Vigour spent, body bent, shaking noddle, widdle waddle. Spoken.] Aye, times are altered now ; old folks are laughed at, and boys alone are respected. Oh, dear me, how my cough annoys me. Ho ! ho! ho! ha! Hey down, ho down, &c. Then, to finish up the play, second childhood leads the way, And, like sheep that's got the rot, all our senses go to pot, When death amongst us pops, and down the curtain drops, All to fill up the farsical scene, O ! Then the coffin we move off in, while the bell tolls the knell. Spoken.] Aye, thus the scene fin- ishes : then, while we are here, why should' nt we enjoy life 1 And how can we do better than assem ble, as we have done — enjoy a good song, and endeavour to make each other happy, by singing — Hey down, ho down, &c, DELIGHTS OF MILLING. Air. — Oh, what a day. THIS is the time, the season for a mill, or fight, Such a time as this there surely ne- ver was ; Navigators, novices, the poor, the peer, the lily white, The single-hearted waterman, and double-fisted gas, All are so busy at it, each man gets his share of his — Next-door-neighbour's knuckles and a handsome face and pair of eyes. A man is morning, noon, and night, with Belcher, at his sporting- t house ; While sweet attractive attitudes are striking us and courting us. Oh, what a sight is a dainty bit of pugilism 1 . All mankind are tucking-up their fingers for a fight* 146 COMIC SONGS. Rings now are made at Moulsey- Hurst and Twickenham, At Crawley- Downs, at Teddington, at Shepperton, and there Skulls get of pepper-mint a dose enough to sicken 'em : Collar-bones and claret-mugs are worse for wear ; Stakes, ropes, and 'water -bottles, saw- dust, seconds, fighting-men, Tradesfolks, and showfolks, London- men, and Brighton-men, Waggons, whips, and gin, and bets, with some to lose, and some to win 'em, Nonpariels, and brandy, nuts, and carts, with two-and-twenty in 'em, Oh, what a sight is a dainty , &c. Whips are at work, sticks follow, legs and all annoys, Silence is entreated, with an oath or knock ; " Pray, who is that ?"— " That's Ran- dall, in the corderoys ;" " And that is Mr. Richmond, in the white smock-frock." Sights to astonish us ! there, that young man a dicer is ; Hush ! or else he'll rattle out his bones upon your ivories! White feathers waving, when courage has evaporated, Men with heads beneath their arms, like walking Charles decapitated. Oh, what a sight is a dainty, &c. Such is the rage for squaring now in rounds, that ail "Walk about in gouty gloves, in strik- ing streets ; Sparring' s grown so impudent, she knows no bounds at all, But thrusts her leathern knuckles into every face she meets ; Little ragged boys, in courts, are flushing it, and flooring it; Brothers and their sisters'^ heads are fibbing it, and boring it ; Clerks in public offices, assail with fist the first comers, — And tradesmen o'er the counter stretch and counter-hit their customers Oh, what a sight is a dainty, &c. OUR AND TWENTY LORD MAYOR'S SHOWS. FOUR-and-twenty lord mayor's shows, all of a row, Four-and-twenty lord mayor's shows, all of a row ; Spoken.'] There was the man in ar- mour, the twelve companies, sword- bearer, and common hunt, all in a bustle, with flags, banners, gowns, chains, and perriwigs, pretty girls perched in the windows, and dressed so proud, to talk so loud, above the crowd, down below, It was to see my lord mayor's show, Therefore they would be merry. Four-and-twenty aldermen, all in a row, Four-and-twenty aldermen, all in a row; Spoken.] There was, pray, Mr. Al- derman, what time do you go to the ceremony 1 have you got ever another ticket for the ball, there'll be me, and Mrs. Marrowfat, Miss Marrowfat, and Master Marrowfat, and my daugh-> ters to dance a minuet with the man in armour, &c. Four-and-twenty Serjeants, all in a row, Foui -a. id twenty Serjeants, all in a row; ' Spoken.] Make way thei e, that gen- J tleman in the black gown there be- longs to the law. — So do I, sir ; we lawyers are men of consequence. — Very true, but the devil will have you at last. — Pray, Mr. Alderman, &c. Four-and-twenty pickpockets, all of a row, Four-and-twenty pickpockets, all of a row; Spoken.] There they were at it, with fobs, watches, and pocket-books ; stop that man, he looks like a rogue. — Take care of your pockets. — That gen- tleman in the black gown, &c. Four-and-twenty tailors, all in a row, Four-and-twenty tailors, all in a row ; Spoken.] And there was a stitch in time saves nine, nine tailors make a man, and nine men may undo a tailor, and tailoro are obliged to iook very hard at cross-stitch, back-stitch COMIC SONGS. 147 — button holes, fobs, watches, and pock- et-books ; stop that man, &c. Four-and-twenty ladies, all on a row, Four-and-twenty ladies, all on a row ; Spoken.'] There was, pray, ma'am, what coloured wig do you wear at the show! — That depends on the weather, ma'am ; as my husband's in the military, perhaps I shall wear a light i ob. — What do you think of a scratch 1 — Rather be excused there, ma'am, I thank you; in that way you're at home to a hair ; besides, you know, ma'am, a stitch in time saves nine, &c. Four-and-twenty Daggerwoods, all of a row, Four-and-twenty Daggerwoods, all of a row ; Spoken.} There was Mrs. Dorinda Daggerwood, Master Apollo Dagger- wood, and all the little Daggerwoods, headed by Sylvester Dionysius Apollo Daggerwoou, of the Dunstable com- pany, whose benefit is fixed for the 11th of June, being by particular de- sire of several persons of distinction, then the unbounded liberality of his friends will never be forgotten, while memory holds a seat in this delighted brain ; brilliant boxes, powerful pit, thundering gallery, and then for ap- plause ; every thing went off swim- mingly, with, pray, ma'am, what co- loured wig do you wear, &c. THE GRAND SERAGLIO. I PEEP'D in the Grand Seraglio, Where the Turks keep their iadies so snugly O ! The ladies there Are fat and fair, But the gemmen are monstrous ugly O! A bearded bashaw twenty wives con- trols, For their law says women have no souls. Spoken.] But 1 say that's a bouncer, the Ottomy ladies only want a little hedification at Billingsgate, where the flat fish would soon become fine soles, and make it all cockles with the musselmen : as to the ladies, heaven bless them, I'm sure 1 wouldn't say a word against them for the world ; they have but one fault, and you know, gentlemen, that is. they like a little drop of — Tang, tang, &c. They make me rather tinglish O ! They strut about so kingllsh O ! And then d'ye see, Such fools they be ; Not one of them knows good English O! Like many goats such beards they sport, Anu the place they call the Sublime Grand Porte. Spoken.] Port, why I hav'n't seen a drop since I've been here; they drink no wine, because they are all rum sub- jects ; there's Mr. Mahomet let's no- body get drunk but himself, so they sit smoking cross-legged like tailors, tosticating themselves with opium, till they look as wise as an owl in a fit of perplexity. With their tang, tang, &c. Of Turkey much they boasted O ! But since I here have posted O ! No Turkey see, Says I for" me, Except it be boiled or roasted O ! The sultan here when he likes never fails To cut off their heads, but he gives them three tails. Spoken?] In Turkey, heads and tails depend on the toss up of a half- penny ; and when the sultan wants the tnopi ssss, he sends somebody to cut off the head of the first bashaw he can meet with, who dutifully sends him his head in a hand-basket, but re- serves his three tails for his own dear consolation : give me little England, where a man's head is his own free- hold property, and his house his cas- tle, and whoever touches a hair of the one, or the latch of the other, is sure to get his head in his hand, the door in his face, and a kick at his — Tang, tang, &c. THE BEADLE OF THE PARISH. I'M a very knowing prig, With my laced coat ana wig, Though they say I am surly and bear- ish. 02 148 Sure I look a mighty man, When I nourish my rattan, To fright the little boys, Who in church time make a noise, Because I'm the beadle of the parish. Here and there — every where ; Holloa, now — What's the row 1 Fine to do — Who are you ? Why, zounds ! I'm the beadle of the parish. Spoken.} Coming out of church last Sunday, there was a couple of black- fuards playing at marbles, " Knuc- le down, says one : " Let's have no funking," says another ; but they put me in a terrible funk. Turned my eye round to the right — there was a barber and chimney-sweep playing at pitch at the bob. " Pitch 'em up," says the barber ; but I played at pickings up. The barber skulked off, but the clergy wanted to show fight. Do you know who I am, sir 1 says I. " No, sir," says he. " Who are you'.'" Who ami] Why, zounds! I'm the beadle of the parish. Wherever I come nigh, How I make the beggars fly, My looks are so angry and scarish : Like other city folks, I do business in the stocks : When whate'er is lost 1 tell, For you know I bear the bell, Because I'm the beadle of the parish. Noise and clatter — What's the mat- ter? Holloa, fellow! — You are mellow : Look at me — Don't you see : Why, zounds ! I'm the beadle of the parisn. Spoken^ Crossing over Blackfriars- bridge the other day ,therewas a ma'am seated across a jack ass, dressed out in white ribbons. What's all this for ? said I. " Ax my donkey," says she : and then 1 turned my eyes to the left, and there was a couple of ma'ams with their fish baskets. Come, ma'am, sa3'S I, you must be off with your stinking fish. " By Jasus," says the other, 1 wish he'd lend me his cocked hat and laced coat and I'd not be long putting them up the spout." You put my cocked hat and laced coat up the COMIC SONGS. spout ! Do you know who you are talking to, ma'am ? ', No, sir," says she. ? ' Who are you ?" Who am 1 \ Why, zounds! I'm the beadle of the parish. I'm an officer, don't laugh, But indeed I'm on the staff; And all say I do pretty fairish : On a Sunday strut about, And keep the rabble out ; The churchwardens march before, Just to open the pew-door, Because I'm the beadle of the parish. Stuff away — Merry da3' ; Drink about — See it out ; There will be — Snacks for me, Because I'm the beadle of the parish. Spoken .] I have often been called on by the neighbours to drive away a little girl, who used to sing — " I cry my matches all round the mews," &c. Come my girL says I, you must go home. " Alas ! sir," says she, " I have none." Go to your father and mother then, says I. " Alas ! sir," says she, " I have none." What, no home ! no father nor mother. 1 put my hand in my pocket, and I lugged out a jolly tizzy. There, says I, girl, now go home. " Thank you, sir," says she, " do take some matches." No my girl, I won't. " Why won't you 1" Why won't 1 1— Because I'm the beadle of the parish. MILK, MY PRETTY MAIDS, BELOW. AT dawn of day, when other folks In slumber drown their senses, We milkmen sing, and crack, and joke, Scale stile and such -like fences : But when from milking home we're bound, A sight more pleasing than a show, The rosy lasses greet the sound Of milk, my pretty maids, below. Milk, my pretty maids, &c. Tis milkman, here, and, milkman, there, Lord, how these wenches teaze me! I'm coming, love ; how much, my fair I Cries I. — There now be easy ; So what with toying now and then, And kissing, too, as on I go ; I scarce have time, like other men, COMIC SONGS. 149 To cry— Milk, my pretty maids, below Milk, my pretty maids, &c. Though twice a-day I pay my court To those that come to meet me, I please them all, and that's your sort, There's none can ever beat me ; My walk I never will resign, A better one 1 don't know ; _ Of all the trades, let this be mine, Of milk, my pretty maids, below. Milk, my pretty maids, &c. THE TRIP TO RICHMOND BY WATER. Air.— Charley over the Water. THE tide it will serve, and the wea- ther is fine, And, as Sunday's a day we have leisure, " , If you'll think of a place to conveni- ently dine, We'll make up a party of pleasure. There's Kate and her cousin, there s Bill and his wife, And then there's old Pops and his daughter, With two or three friends, besides you my dear life, . Zooks ! you'll all go to Richmond by water. Spoken.] What, nobody come yet? this is just the way I am sarved when I want to go a pleasuring. W ell, I say, is Muggins come yet'.' No. JSo! why not? Bis wife wo'n't let him come to go. Wife wo'n't let ! phoo! folly! pitch 'em all to the devil : damn- ed nonsense! petticoat government, and all that— I wouldn't stand it. What's that you say, sir? Nothing my dear. Yes, you did, sir ; I heard you — about petticoat-government; you are not under petticoat-government, sir :— stop till I get you home, sir, I'll pay you for this. My dear, I said no- thins, only that every man ought to do what his wife tells him. Will Mr. Stave, the cooper, come ? No, sir ; he can't come. No! why not? Why, sir, his children have all got the hoop-ing cough, and his wife is all but gone, so he means to smoke his pipe at home, for once, in peace and quietness. Now, here's all our party broke up — I ne- ver saw any thing like it ; we sha'n't have any body come now. Yes, we shall, and here they all come — what a lot — well, how are you ? why haven't you brought Sally? Don't mention her ; we have sent her off : she was too much in the way of the family. What's that you say — Sally in the fa- mily-way ? My dear sir, hush ! you'll take away her character. Well, she ought to be obliged to any one to do that — I'm sure it was a very bad one. Veil, if you're going, yhy don't you come. What, are we going in that ere little jemmy thing? That, sir? why that's a real sea-boat. Aye, but we want a fresh-water boat now. Don't call it a boat — it don't sound nautical — call it a vessel. Come, are you all in I Yes, here's Bill in the mud. Is he — lend me 3'our cane, I'll give him such a lick. You'd better give him a wipe, that will be of more service to him. Pray, sir, what have you got in 3 our pocket? Half-a-pound of salt, just to relish the dinner with. Well, then, if we are not on the sea, we are on salt water. Why so ? Why, sir, your coat-pocket has been hanging in the water these ten minutes. Going down the liver, marm? Don't talk about going dozon the river, sir, or it will be ail vp with me. There's Mrs. Tomkin's bonnet fell in the water ! I've got it — dui't put it on yet, or you'll get a water3 r head. It's plain you've not got a watery head, sir. Why, ma'am? Every thing is so dry that conies out of your mouth. La, pa, are we almost there 1 Yes, my dear, I should think so, by the change of the climate, it's so very hot. Oh, what lots of boats ! where can they all be a-going to ? Go- ing to all parts, ma'am, some up, some down. Sit up, or you'll upset the boat. Take care, for, if our bdat should be upset, where should we all go to ? Go, ma'am — why, some up — some down. Sure, there is nothing so pleasant in life, As a trip up to Richmond by water. Now, mind what you're at, and don't wriggle the boat, There's a nice little breeze sprung for sailing ; Should we happen to sink, friends, instead of to lioftt, 03 150 COMIC SONGS. Our joy will be turned to bewail- ing: Now, none of your larking, she may spring a leak, Kate would have fell out, but I caught her ; All very well is a bit of a freak, Eut mind what you're at on the water. Spoken.'] La, papa, is that Rich- mond all that long way off ? Yes, my dear, it will be longer before we get there. Mrs. Brisket, will you take a little drap of summat ? No, thank'ee sir, I'm not in the cue. I beg your pardon, ma'am, you are — this is all Xew, ail along here. How very witty some folks are — a'n't they, ma'am ? Yes, sir, but I'm sorry to say you're not one on'em. How prime it is to have one's hands in the water ! I hope, Mrs. Dewsdrop, my splashing don't incommode you. No, sir, not in the least ; it did at first though, but I'm wet through now, so I don't mind it. My eye, if here 'ant a hole in the boat! la, is there, — where ? Here, where they puts up the sail. La, what's the use of haggitating one so ! Now, here we are, close a-shore, what shall we do ? Oh, let's go and ruralify a bit — I'm for dining on a highland. I don't know where we shall go — I'm for the Haycock — my husband's for the Horns. Oh ! blow the Horns ! Mind, there, take care of your scull, thick head, will you ! Bless me, how hot the water is! How do you know that, ma'am? Why, I'm up to my knees in it, sir. Well, never mind, warm water can't give you cold. Come, now, sit down in the grass. How charming ro- mantic this is — who would have thought of it? Why, I did, to be sure, or 1 shouldn't have brought the plates and dishes — you've forgot the spoons, hav'n't you ? How couM I in the pre- sent company ? There's a fat lady has brought two very fine hams. Sharp you are, sir ; you have brought your tongue with you, I perceive. Yes, mem ; you never go any where with- out yours, I presume. Come, sit down ; where's the butter ? O, gemini ! 1 put it into my coat-pocket, and for- got to take it out, and it's all melted ! Never mind, 1 like melted butter. Where'3 the eggs ? Sarah, where did +*+++++++++* *+t you lay them ? Bill put them in his pocket, and Jack hit them withhi3 stick, and smashed them all. How foolish ! you should never beat up eggs in any body's pocket! Where^ the salt? That's in the water. Where's the pepper ? Gone after the salt. O cry ! look at old Mumps — he has got his ankeens on, and he has been sitting down where the cows have been. How will you go home ? Why, by steam. Aye, to be sure, and then j^ou will have enjoyed ail Jive elements — earth, air, water, fire, and steam. Sure, there is nothing, &c. Now, all up the side, we are safe up- on deck, They have taken, I hope, care to oil her, For there'd be a pretty to-do in the _ wreck If the steam-man should once burst the boiler ; I almost now wish we had gone home by land, Which they say would have been much the shorter, But not half so romantic, could that have been planned, As returning from Richmond by water. Spoken.] Well, I think we have spent a very pleasant day. Ma'am, a day is never come till it's gone ; and, remember, you're on board a Steam- Packet. Don't frighten me, sir. Don't be alarmed, ma'am ; I don't say that any accident will occur, but for my- self I never was on board one that something unpleasant did not happen. It's very unpleasant for you to say so, sir. That safety-valve is in a very unsafe state. There is no danger from fire, I hope, sir? No, ma'am, because if the boiler bursts it will put out the fire. Yes, and put us out too, wo'n't it ? Yes. O dear ! I wish they hadn't taken us in. No, sir, people in gene- ral don't like to be taken in. Look there ! bless my stars ! did you see that funny upset ! Funny upset, sir ! I think it was a very serious upset, sir. Any accident? No; only a lady showed her ancle. Was it a large fun- ny ? No ; a very little funny. Come, ?o on with your steam-boat, will you T )on't you say so much about steam, COMIC SONGS. 151 est****************"**-** if you do they'll smoke you. No, they wo'n't — they may smoke my backy if they like — I sells it. What sort do Jou sell, sir ? Ax about. Oh ! shortcut, see. Don't be saucy, or I may chance to give you some returns. Perhaps your returns might be blackguard. Perhaps it might, and perhaps I shall pull your nose. Perhaps you might, Sir ; it will all lie in the way of bu- siness — a pinch of blackguard. You had better hold your tongue. I had better hold my nose — that seems in the greatest danger. Humph ! 1 say, Gubbins, how are you ? — where did you dine to-day ? I didn't dine any where ; I have got the tooth-ache, and couldn't eat a bit. You came out for pleasure, didn't you? Yes; and I haven't been free from pain a moment all day. Well, I am sorry I came in a steam-boat ; the company are al- ways so very low. Yes, mem, but if it were to blow up they would then be higher. Yes. sir, but that is a sort of elevation I do not wish them while I am in their company. Pray, sir, as you seem to know ever3 r thing, what is steam? Steam, ma'am — is — a sort - — of — that is. Pho, says Pompous, steam is a — I'll tell you what steam is — steam, you see, is — there, that's the boiler— that's the valve— and steam you see, pish ! steam is nothing more than — a pail of water put in a perspiration. Sure, there is nothing, &c. THE DEBATING SOCIETY. THE forum for fun and variety Is a debating society ; Such gabbling And squabbling, And humming and ha'ing ; Such thumping And jumping, Air beating and sawing ; Mouths, like cannons, ope, Charged with figure and trope, S, iitting logical straws in ' no mean- ing' digestion, With indefinite answer to a quibbling question. Spoken."] Gentlemen of the Philologi- cal Forum, the question for this even- ing's agitation is — Which is most es~ sential to the physical faculties of mo- ral economy j and the intellectual ener- +■ +*■*+■**-*»■*+■**+* *+ »+■. gies of reciprocal ratiocination, waltzes or Welsh wigs ? — C In several voices.) — Oh ! bravo ! bravo ! — Mr. President and gentlemen — hem ! — the question propounded for — hem ! — this even- ing's — hem ! — discussion is of the ut- most importance to the — hem ! — Mr. President, that gentleman's hem is but a so so business ; and if he draws the thread of his argument so slowly, he'll not get through a stitch to night. — Mr. President, I rise to the question, and I shali produce an unanswerable argument, to which I expect a catego- rical answer. — Mr. President, how can a man, that is not an Irishman, expect an answer to an unanswerable argument ? — Mr. President, if that jontleman is after making national re- flections, I've a national answer to his question, called ashellalagh, that will be after knocking down him and his argument together. — Sir, it is first necessary to inquire what moral eco- nomy and the intellectual energies are? and, to be brief, 1 shall divide the sub- ject into no more than twenty -one heads — What are you pulling out your night-cap for while the gentle- man's speaking 1 — Silence ' Mr. Lea- therlung's on his legs. — Sir, I will speak, it's my turn. — Then turn him out. Order! order! question! question! chair! chair! chair! All talkers and no hearers, till the fo- rum's like a fair. Order gain'd through the chairman's authority, Seconded by the majority. Give season Tor reason, And quaint speculation ; With ranting, And panting, And dull declamation : With fury and fuss, The case to discuss ; To twist and to twine, Perplex and define, With paradox, punning, bad grace, and worse grammar, While some squeak, and some bellow, some storm, and some stammer. Spoken, in several voices."] Mr. Pre- sident, or this question much may be said on both sides, though I am deci- 152 COMIC SONGS. sively on one side ; and, notwithstand- ing what any gentleman can say on the other side, I shall back my argu- ment with breast-work, that I shall have him on the hip, and leave him not a leg to stand upon. — Mr. Presi- dent, I am clearly in favour of waltz- es — waltzes come from Germany,with whiskers, sausages, melo-drams, and many other drams equally efficacious. A waltz is a dance, an innocent recre- ation, conducing both to health and cheerfulness ; and what can be more favourable to 1 eason and morality '{ A Welsh wig is — what is it? A mean covering for the head ; bestowing not wisdom, like a lawyer's wig, bronze like a Brutus, gravity like a tie, weight like a full bottom, or smartness like a scratch ; but is, as it were, a mere night-cap, fit only for quizzes, quid- nuncs, watchmen, and, what's all the same, old women. — Personal, person- al. — I beg pardon, sir, 1 didn't know any old woman was present — Mr. President, I maintain that waltzes are immoral. — No, no ! — Sir, the morali- ty of the subject in question depends upon one question ; and I question if that question is at all questionable — is morality an active or an inactive principle 1 If active, we must decide for waltzes ; and if inactive, for Welsh wigs : and I have no doubt but that every gentleman who is of my mind will be of the same opinion. — Sir, a learned author, whose name I have forgot, and whose words I don't recol- lect, asserts what I shall not take up your time by repeating : but, on the subject of debate, the enlightened Mr. t Dumfuzzle in his Dissertation on Dunderheads, has, in the most elegant Latin, these emphatic words — Combarabandus hum, wiggum cum \ waltzo, Describusque rum/usque, waltzum cum zoiggo. — Knock down Mr. Dumfuzzle — Order' order! question! &c. The hubbub at length being paralvz'd. The question being further on analys'd 1 move, sir, To prove, sir, That, spite of all quarrel, Welsh wigs, sir, Are gigs, sir, And waltzes are moral. Let those who can't dance, From envy advance An argument con , And thus he goes on, Till above all their voices another ex- alts his, To prove that Welsh wigs are more moral than waltzes. Spoken, in several voices.'] Mr. Pre- sident, I aver that waltzes, being more expensive than Welsh w r igs, the latter are most agreeable to moral economy ; though waltzes, by overheating people and giving them cold, are more ser- viceable to the physical faculty, who are often obliged to prescribe Welsh wigs to restore the intellectual ener- gies, for the purposes of reciprocal ratiocination. — Sir, as to the morality of waltzes, i shall prove that Welsh wigs — that is, that Welsh wigs, com- pared with waltzes, allowing for the morality of the one, and the ratioci- nation of the other Nonsense — nonsense ! — Silence ! no interrupticn ! the President speaks. — Gentlemen, to stop all this heterogeneous hurly-burly the clerk shall read some of the funda- mental rules of the society. ' It is not required that any gentle ' man should be obliged either to un- ' derstand himself or make any body ' else understand him ; for, as every ' gentleman has his opinion, if he is ' satisfied with it, that is enough ; as ' no man, who is a man, ought to give ' up his opinion to any man, for no ' man. 1 Any gentleman may go to sleep ' during a debate, provided he wakes ' time enough for hearing the question ' put, and then he is recommended to ' vote with the strongest party, ' Gentlemen who learn their speech- 1 es by heart are required to come per- ' feet ; and.for the benefit of discussion, ' incontrovertible arguments on both ' sides of the question may be had of ' the secretary, at a reasonable rate, 'ready made. ' Any gentleman wishing to speak ' the whole evening may, by paying * all the expenses, be accommodated ' with the room to himself'.' Order! order! question! &c. COMIC SONGS. 153 EPSOM RACES ! WITH spirits gay I mount the box, the tits up to their traces, My elbows squared, my wrist turned down, dash off to Epsom races ; With Buxton bit, bridoon so trim, three chesnuts and a grey, Well coupled up my leaders, then, ya hip ! we bowl away. Some push along with four-in-hand, while others drive at random, In whiskey, buggy, gig, or dog-cart, curricle, or tandem. Spoken.'] Ya, ya-hip, go along wi' i. I say, Bill, if I hadn't turned the leader neatly over the old woman, we should have dashed neck and crop in- to the china-shop. Why didn't you keep on that side of the road 1 Where are you coming, Johnny Raw ? You be d — d ! who made you a coachman 1 why didn't you let your sarvant take hold of the reins 1 Where are you go- ing to now 1 Ya-hip ! had all the Brighton flashmen in a long trot, d — e that's prime ! Push along with four-in-hand, &c. Prime of life to go it, where's a place like London ? Four-in-hand to-day, the next you may be undone ; Where belles as well as beaux, to get the whip-hand strive ; And Mrs. Snip, the tailor's wife, can teach her spouse to drive ; So Jacky Snip, his wife, and all, to Dobbin's back are strapt on, In von-horse chay, to spend the day with neighbour Stitch, at Clapton. Spoken.] Master Snip, I desire you'll not be wulgar to-day. Veil, I won't, if I can help it. Here, ostler, bring my horse a glass of gin and beer. Landlord, bring me a thimble- full of brandy. Who are you 1 Who learned you to drive '*. What do you mean by that 1 ? I'm Richard Cypher, Esq. attorney and solicitor, belong- ing to the honourable Neck or No- thing ; have gone through all the gra- dations of buggy, gig, and dog-cart, tandem, curricle, unicorn, and tour- in-hand ; neglected nothing ; dashed at every thing ; pegged at a jarvey ; tooled a mail coach; and now have attained the credit of being dang-vp. So Push along, with four-in-hand, &c Thus it is with all who in London are thriving, Both high life and low life at some- thing are driving ; A peer and a 'prentice now dress so much the same, You cannot tell the difference, ex- cepting by the name. On Epsom Downs, says Billy, ' Zounds ! that cannot be Lord Jacky, 'Egad ! but now I see it is, — I took him for his lacquey. Spoken.] Ya, ya-hip! ya-hip ! prime work ! kept the Bristol mail at long hy, these men ' Didn't I show trot. Why, these men hav'n't paid the 't I show you the ticket I What's the number f Two hundred toll. and eighty-one. Pay the man, or I'll knock your chops about. You've got no money. That's a queer half-crown : that's not what I gave you. Yes, it is. None of your smashing tricks here. Vat, sare, do you me refuse to let through the gate pike ? 1 vill get off de outside of my horse, and I vill knock you top over bottom. You'll do what 1 By gar ! I will black your nose, and break your eye. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Why, zounds ! this is a proper cross and jostle! Spoonies, sawnies, come, be off. Thus Some dash along with four-in-hand, &c. THE COBLER A LA FRAN- CA1SE. Air. — Derry Down. A COBLER there was, and he lived in a stall, Which served him for parlour, and kitchen, and every thing else ; No coin in his pocket, no care in his pate, !N o ambition had he, no, no creditors at his street-door. Derry down, &c. Contented he was, and he thought himself happy. If at night he could purchase a pot of good porter ; 154 COMIC SONGS. Oh, then, he would whistle, and sing, too, most sweet, Saying just to a hair I have made both ends come together. Derry down, &c. But love, the disturber of high and of low, He shoots at de peasant, as well as de mackeronie, And he shot de poor cobler right through de heart, I wish he had shot at some more nobler situation. Derry down, &c, 'Twas from a cellar this archer did play, A buxom young damsel was always a sleeping, Her eyes shone like dimonts, she rose every day, "Which sho de poor cobler t'other side de street-door. Derry down, &c. He sang her love-song as he sat at his work, But she was hard-hearted as a Jew or a Musselman, And, if he spoke, she would flounce and would near, Which threw the poor cobler into me- lancholy. Derry down, &c. He took up his all that he had in the world, And to make away with himself he was determined ; But he pierced through the body in- stead of the soul, The poor cobler he died and the bell went bang bang. Derry down, &c. THERE'S COMFORT I1ST A DROP OF GIN. Air. — The White Cockade, WHILE some roar out " the Dog's Meat Man," And others chant " Sweet Lovely Nan," In praise of HODGES' Best I sing, There's comfort in a drop of gin. A drop of gin, the girls they cry — A drop of gin, the lads reply ; And all who live to cry or grin, Find comfort in a drop of gin. The grave, the gay, both rich and poor, For sorrow find in gin a cure ; The stiff old maid, with pious song, In private takes Old Jolly Tom, A drop of gin, the old girl sighs, Blue ruin sparkles in her eyes, And while she prays to keep from sin, Finds comfort in a drop ot gin. By many names dear Gin is called ; " Strip me ?iaked" is by porter bawled, " Flash of lightniyig" the am'rous spark, The dandy asks for " Nancy Clark ;" " A yard of tape," and many more, Which to repeat is quite a bore ; Yet all who wake to cry or grin, Find comfort in a drop of gin, Then, while we live to laugh and sin, Drink our Old Friend in jolly gin : Care to the wind ! — another glass, Success to trade, and smiling lass. Let parsons preach and dotards scan, On all the worst of mortal man ; Yet all who lose the day or win, Find comfort in a drop of gin. HOT CODLINS. A LITTLE old woman her living got By selling hot codlins, hot! hot ! hot ! And this little old woman who codlins sold, » Though her codlins were hot, thought she felt herself cold ; So to keep herself warm, she thought it no sin, To fetch herself a quartern of Ri tol, &c. This little old woman set off in a trot, To fetch her a quartern of hot ! hot ' hot ! She swallowed one glass, and, it was so nice, She tipt off another in a trice ; The glass she filled till the bottle ; gias; shru shrunk, And this little old woman they say, got Ri tol, &c. This little old woman, while muzzy she got, Some boy s stole her codlins hot ! hot ' hot! COMIC SONGS. 155 Powder under her pan put, and in it round stones : Says the little old woman, " these ap- ples have bones:'' The powder the pan in her face did send, Which sent the old woman on her lat- ter Ri tol, &c. The little old woman then up she got, All in a fury, hot ! hot ! hot ! Says she, " such boys, sure, never were known, They never will let an old woman alone." Now here is a moral, round let it buz — If you wish to sell codlins, never get Ri tol, &c JOE OF THE BELL. AROUND the face of blue-eyed Sue Did auburn ringlets curl, Her coral lips seem'd dipped in dew, Her teeth two rows of pearl. Joe, of the Bell, whose wine, they said, Was new in cask as he in trade ; His spouse — this nonpareil. " Y"ou keep the bar," says Joe, " my dear, But be obliging. Sue, — d'ye hear? And prove to all who love good cheer I hey 're welcome to the Bell." A London rider chanced to slip Behind the bar to dine, And found sweet Susan's yielding lip Much mellower than her wine. As Joe stept in, he stampt and tore, And, for the London bean, he swore He'd dust his jacket well. " Hevdav !*' says Sue, " "What's this I trow ? You bade me be obliging, Joe ; Fra only proving to the beau He's welcome to the Bell." THE QUEER LITTLE MAN. A QUEER little man, very "how came you so,'' Went home on a dingy night ; It was past twelve o' clock — he'd a long way to go And he walked like a crab left and right. At the corner of a lane, quite a lonely retreat, He saw something tall, and as white as a sheet; He shook and he shivered, His teeth chattered and lips quivered ; And with fear, as well as raddling, he staggered to and fro, This queer little man, who'd a long way to go. This queer little man then he fell on his knees, With fright you'd suppose half- dead ; And as on it he looked it o'ertopped the trees, And had two saucer-eyes in its head : When a very death-like voice said, in a very drear tone, " With me you must go, 3*our grave's nearly done :" He shook and he shivered, His teeth chattered and lips qui- vered : When he cried, " O, good hobgoblin, I pray you mercy show A queer little man who's a long way to go." This queer little man, he fell flat as a flail, A great explosion heard he, And jumped up in a crack — for a cracker at his tail Set him capering just like a parched pea. From around the goblin's head burst some long streams of fire. And the cracker once spent left him sprawling in the mire. Some wags ('twas a whacker) Thus with" turnip, squib, and cracker Cured, through rear, of all his fud- dling, completely you must know This queer little man who'd a long way to go. KITTY MAGGS AND JOLTER GILES. KITTY MAGGS was a servant to Farmer Styles, And a buxom wench was she ; 156 COMIC SONGS. And her true lovier was Jolter Giles, A ploughman so bold was he ; Giles had wages, five pounds due at Candlemas tide, And then he told Kitty he'd make her his bride. Ding dong, bo ! Betty Blossom she wore a high-caul'd cap, Which caught fickle Jolter's eye ; And poor Kitty Maggs, O, dire mis- hap ! Mourn'd his incon-stan-cy ! And high on the bough of an apple- tree, "When they married, Kate finished her misery. Ding dong, bo ! At the supper Giles gave for Betty his bride, An apple pudding had they, And from the same bough on which poor Kitty died The apples were plucked they say ; The pudding pies on it, grew deadly cold, The death-watch ticked, and the church-bell tolled ! Ding dong, bo ! To carve the pudding was Giles's post, He cut, and from the gap Popped the head of poor Kitty Magg's fhost, in a new fashioned shroud cap \ Said Giles, " who be you t* said the ghost, " I be I, A coming to punish your par-ju-ry /" Ding dong, bo ! " O, Kitty," said Jolter, " pray alter your note!" " 1 vorti" the ghost replied ; When plump flew the pudding down Giles's throat, And on the spot he died. Now his ghos ; , once a year, bolting- pudding is seen, While blue devils sing every mouth- ful between. Ding dong, bo ! THE BACHELOR'S CATA- LOGUE. I'LL marry my sweetheart, If she will marry me ; I've a pretty stock of goods, And so has she. I've got — What? Why, a poker to stir the fire, As stout as a maid can desire ; A bellows without a nose That out of the hind part blows ; A table without any legs, That stands upon three old pegs ; A comb that has never a tooth, For I knocked them all out in my youth. A pitcher that, 'stead of an ear, Has a hole to let out the beer ; A Bible without any leaves; A halter I've left for the thieve's ; An almanack ten years old, But a very good one I'm told ; A hen that has got the roop ; A razor made out of a hoop ; A pair of old shoes and a stocking, With holes that would make you cry shocking ; A pair of old breeches, so darned The colour can scarce be discerned ; A coat, so very threadbare, Your back through it takes air ; A wig for to clean your shoes ; A frying-pan no one can use ; A hat, with a sky-light in it, Which lets the rain through in a min- ute; Some ruffles, as yellow .as gold, Embroidered with iron-mould ; Besides an old worn-out shirt, A great deal the worse for dirt , A candlestick and save-all ; And thus my goods you have all. All these were left by my granny, Who now in the church-yard lies sleeping; Then don't you think I have plenty of goods, To go into housekeeping? I'll marry my sweetheart, If she will marry me ; She has a pretty lot of goods as welt as me : She's got — What! A gold ring made of brass ; A piece of old looking-gb'ss : Some vinegar, least she should faint ; Some brick-dust, th it serves her for paint ; A large lump of fine yellow soap ;] Some onions hung up on a rope ; ] COMIC SONGS. 157 <*er+r J* + ***+r*r***r*r*,* A song-book bound in grease; Two gowns, worth a farthing a-piece ; Three shifts, but some one so tore 'em, They'd be put to their shifts who wore 'em; Some aprons as black as a cinder ; Two caps would serve nicely for tin- der; A neat piece of rope for a girdle ; A pig that's as thin a hurdle ; Some dancing-shoes, though they are wooden ; With three or four yards of black pud- ding; A bench, though split in four quarters, Is nicely tied up with her garters ; A ricketty three-legged stool ; A pipkin for gooseberry fool ; A pot with a hole in its bottom, Was made by the tinkers, 'od rot 'em ; A tea-pot without any lid, Which wo'n't pour out though it's bid ; A battered old deal bedstead, With a log of wood for your head ; A silver penny in cotton. A keepsake from one dead and rotten, Some physic that never was taken ; With a fat piece of rusty old bacon. All these were left by her granny, Who now in the church-yard lies sleeping; Then don't you think she's got plenty of goods To go into housekeeping ? I'll marry my sweetheart, If she like me would kiss ; We've a pretty stock of goods, We want but this. We've not — What? Why, a ladle — a cradle, A skewer — a ewer, A garden, well barred in, An old tree — some poultry, A barrel — apparel, A bonnet, bow on it, An apron, with tape run, A jerkin, to work in, Best coat — waistcoat, Cocked hat, mocked at, Locket — pocket, Rich es — breeches, A cat — a mat, A clock — a lock, Grates — plates, Jugs — mugs, Pails— flails, Nails — rails, Box for backey, Glass for jackey. When we've these, as light as a feather. We'll laugh at care and sorrow; Put our little alls together, And we'll be married to-morrow. ORIGINAL MEDLEY. MRS. WADDLE was a widow, and she got no little gain ; She kept a tripe and trotter shop in Chickabiddy-lane ; Her next door neighbour, Tommy Tick, a tallyman was he, And he ax'd Mrs. Waddle just to take a — Long-tailed pig, or a short-tailed pig, or a pig without — A flaxen-headed cow-boy, As simple as can be, And next a merry plough-boy, I Mend pottles and cans, Hoop j ugs, patch kettles and pans, And over the country trudge it, I — Sing green grow the rushes O ! What signifies the life of man, If he was not for — O love is the soul of a nate Irishman. He loves all that's lovely, does all that he can, — With, don't 1 look spruce on my Neddy, In spite of his kicking and pranc- ing? Come a ther, gee up, gee wo — Wo, Ball, wo ; so I whistles, whistles, and cries — m The last dying speech and confes- sion, both parentage and education, life, character, and behaviour, of — Sir Solomon Simons, when he did wed, blushed black as a crow ; His fair lady did blush light; The clock struck twelve, they were both tucked in bed, — And they Sung fal de ral tit, tit fal de re, tit fal de ro ; And they sung — Dear, dear, what can the matter be ? Oh ! dear what can the matter be 1 — with Dorothy Dump, who would mutter and mump, and cry — Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell ; 158 COMIC SONGS. If I'd as much money as I could tell,— I— Did not much like for to be on board a ship, "When in danger there's no door to creep out, — I liked — an old woman clothed in gray, "Whose daughter was charming and young, Ana she was deluded away, by — The mark seven! — by the mark seven ! The lead once more the seaman flung, And to the pilot cheerly sung — God save great George our King, Long live our noble King ; God seve the King ; send him — To Anacreon, in heaven, where he sat in full glee, A few sons of harmony sent a pe- tition, That he their inspirer and patron would be, "When this answer arrived from the jolly old Grecian — Come, lads and lasses, round me throng, I'se tell you where I've been, And if you do not flout my song, l'se tell you — what Care I for mam or dad, Why let them roar and bel- low, For while I live, I'll — Keep a snug little shop, None beat me at selling or buy- ing can, In merry customer hop, — 'tis — At the dead of the night, when by whiskey inspired, And pretty Katty Flanagan my senses had fired, I tapped at her window, when out came — Four-and- twenty tailors all on a row., There was one caught a 1 — se, another let him loose, and a third cries, knock him down with — Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves, Britons never will be slaves. MAJOR MACPHERSON AND MISS SCOUT MAJOR MACPHERSON heaved a sigh, Tol de diddle dol, &c. And Major Macpherson didn't know why; Tol de, &c. But Major Macpherson soon found out, Tol de, 5rc. It was all for Miss Lavinia Scout, Tol de, &c. Says Major Macpherson, I've no doubt, Tol de, Sec. I'm scorned by Miss Lavinia Scout : Tol de, &c. And, since on her I still must doat, Tol de, &c. I'll make it a point to cut my throat. Tol de, &c. Then Major Macpherson took a razor. Tol de, &c. And, says he, d — n me but I'll amaze her! Tol de, &c. My fate's decreed — my hour is come : Tol de, &c. Then he drew the edge — across his thumb; Tol de, &c. And still on his woes did the Major harp, Tol de, &c. But the Major was young, and the razor was sharp ; Tol de, etc. No, says he, to kill himself a brave man scorns ; Tol de, &c. So, instead of his throat, he cut his corns. Tol de, &c. THE CLOWN'S ADVENTURES. I'M a clown, you may tell by my phiz, I love to be busy and gay, I will sing, only say 3 7 ou won't quiz, For that quizzing is out of my way. When a boy, light, your honour, 1 cried, COMIC SONGS. 159 When a youth, was a waxy shoe- maker, As tailor, the bucks I supplied, Quack doctor, and then undertaker. Spoken.] Aye, but as undertaker I could never bury any thing but meat, drink, fruit, or pastry — over a good dinner I was always a grave subject, and was devilish deep when I'd a dead neighbour to deal with; till, one day, being caught with a pig, in my pocket, I was committed to Bridewell as a body-snatcher. Sing — Hey iiddle ho, faddle di dee. As a soldier, I next went to France, But in Spain my respect first did pay, And, while others made Frenchmen to prance, What did I do — why, I ran away. But my officer, knowing me brave, Made me presents, but not very large, First, he whipt me tor being a knave, Then the reg'ment gave me my discharge. Spoke7i.~\ Yes, they drumm'd me out — and what for ? because I blew the general's wig off. One soldier tried me for running away with his wife — the gunner blew me up, be- cause he said his wife run away with me — indicted me for crim. con. — when I proved it impossible for his wife to run away with me, because she had no legs ; so the judges shook their wigs, and the court sang — Hey fiddle no, &c. For the last, as a footman went I, Where my wages so nicely were paid, But, egad, you must know that my eye Was placed on the cook and house- maid. Then the larder I used as my own, The wine I would drink too when dry, But to master the secret was blown, Then 1 thought 'twas the time for good bye. Spokeri.'] Away I went, and the servants after me, bawling, ' Stop him with the wine !' Says I, * ' Twill be rum if you do.' — So, being in good spirits, I got clear off, and if ever I go as footman again may I be splitted and served up to Lord Scratch as a tat goose, singing — Hey fiddle ho,&c TJNFOURTNATE MISS BAILEY A CAPTAIN bold in Halifax, that lived in country quarters Seduced a maid, who hanged herself, one morning, in her garters ; His wicked conscience smited him j he lost his stomach daily. He took to drinking ratafia, and thought upon Miss Bailey. Oh, Miss Bailey ! unfortunate Miss Bailey ! He took to drinking ratafia, and thought upon Miss Bailey. One night betimes he went to rest, for he had caught a fever, Says he " I am a handsome man, but I'm a gay deceiver." His candle, just at twelve o'clock, began to burn quite palely ; A ghost stepped up to his bed-side, and said " Behold Miss Bailey !" Oh, Miss Bailey ! &c. " Avaunt, Miss Bailey !" then he cried " your face looks white and mealy !" " Dear Captain Smith, the ghost re- plied, "you've used me ungen- teelly ; The Croivnefs ''quest goes hard with me, because I've acted frailly, And parson Biggs wo'n't bury me, though I am dead Miss Bailey." Oh, Miss Bailey ! &c. " Dear corpse," says he, " since you and I accounts must, once for all, close, I've got a one pound note in my regi mental small-clothes, 'Twill bribe the sexton for your grave" The ghost then vanished gaily, Crying, *' Bless you, wicked Ca Smith ! Remember poor Miss Bailey." Oh, Miss Bailey ! &c. I Captain MUTTON-CHOPS ; A SOLDIER and a sailor once By Cupid were betrayed ; Both fell in love — oh, dire mm* chance P2 160 With the same black-eyed maid. The sailor by a cannon-shot, Was of a leg bereft, And, from that time, it was his lot To have but one leg left Tol lol de rol, de rol, dol lol, dol lol, tol de rol. Dol dol de rol, de rol, dol lol. 'Twas Molly Cook their love pos- COMIC SONGS. For she was plump and young ; And then such nice roast beef she drest. With chickens, ham, and tongue. Oh, thou enchanting Molly Cook, Too lovely, charming fair, Who on thy bill of fare could look, And yet to love forbear ? Tol lol de rol, &c. One day the sailor he came there, Rigged out in clothes quite new ; His trousers of striped cotton were, His jacket old true blue. '* Oh, charming Molly Cook," he cried, " My love," — then made a stop. — "What would you have?" Molly replied. Quoth he, " a mutton-chop" Tol lol de rol, &c. Poor Molly, as you all will guess, Expected something more ; And, moping, went (how could she less ?) The larder to explore. Says she, " how will you have them drest, My hero of the navy V Quoth he, " Dear Moll, I like 'em best Fried— and full of gravy." Tol lol de rol, &c. To cook 'em straight she did begin, And o'er the mutton sighed ; When lo ! the soldier he marched in, Just as the chops were fried. Enraged — quoth he, " I treason smell, Your precious limb I'll lop." " My eyes," says Jack, " what lies you tell You only smell — a chop" Tol lol de rol, &c. A smart engagement did ensue Between these men of war : But mutton did the rage subdue Of soldier and of tar. On Molly's chops these warlike men Fell foul, like heroes bold; What happened else — before — or then, Why — Molly never told. Tol lol de rol, &c POOR OLD MAIDENS. FOUR score and ten of us Poor old maidens \ Four score and ten of us Without a penny in our purse, Lame and blind, and what is worse, Poor old maidens ! We are of a sickly kin, Poor old maidens ! Wearing flannel next our skin, To keep the cold from coming in, Poor old maidens.' We are of a willing mind, Poor old maidens ! We are of a willing mind, Would young men but be so kind. As to wed the lame and blind Poor old maidens We'll address his Majesty, Poor old maidens From leading apes to set us free, And Parliament will all agree To pity us — Poor old maidens ! THE FREE AND EASY. Air. — Mail Coach, COME ! you are all invited, Where you may be delighted, If you'll only take a walk ; There is lots or pipes and backey, With brandy, rum, and jackey, At the Bull and the Cabbage Stalk. There's Mr. Johnny Stringer, A very famous singer, And the waiter from the Thistle, He is coming down to whistle, And old Wastebutt takes the chair. Spoken.'] Gemmen! I'll give you ° the King!" and then I'll thank you to give your orders. — Waiter ! when you go in, bring me a go ot gin ; and reach me some water before you go out. — " I'll wait upon you, sir, when I have served the gentlemen." — (Chairman speaks.) — What do you mean, Mr t Waiter, by insinuating COMIC SONCiS. 161 that my friend is not a gentleman? he is as respectable a master chimney- sweep as any in the metropolitan country. — (Chimneysweeper ) — "Yes; and never was considered as a black- leg yet, although I've seen many games in my time." — (Gentleman af- fectedly,) — " What do you mean, sir, when you say black-leg, and look at me '.'" — "(Chimney sweeper.) — "Why, I meant black-leg, to be sure !" — (Gentleman) — " Kepeat the word, and I'll shew j t ou a game you know nothing about, and that's Rouge et Ntdr" — (sweep.)" What's that?" — (Gentleman.)— " Why, red and black ! — I'll black your eye, and cut your nose ; and if that's not red and black, I'm no judge of colours!" — Order! order ! for the chair. Then sing, boys, and be merry, With derry, hey down deny, At the Bull and the Cabbage Stalk. Then the gin is very handy, Likewise the rum and brandy, And the songs and the toasts go round ; There are bakers, soldiers, sailors, Tinkers, barbers, cobblers, tailors, And for mirth they're ne'er aground. Now, the landlord is a sticker, And because he sells his liquor, He's the butt of the company made ; Still, he hears and blows his cloud, sirs, And then he laughs aloud, sirs, Because it serves his trade. Spoken.] — " Go it," he cries: let those laugh that wins. Ben, take that gemmen's orders !" — (Ben speaks) — " He's a theatrical man, and says there are no orders admitted." — (Landlord) " Well, I'm not surprised at that, for, though he plays light comedy, he has been in the heavy line all the after- noon, and I dare say he's quite full." — Order ! for the Chairman ! — (Chair- man) — " Gentlemen, I propose the health of Mr. Augustus Jeremiah Adolphus Truncheon the actor, and thanks to him for the honour of his company!" Order! for Mr. Trunche- on's speech ! — (Truncheon speaks.) — " Gentlemen, you can't conceive how much I'm elevated ; so much so, that I feel myself quite in the clouds." — (Chimney-sweey.) — "Well, so you are ; a'nt we all blowing our clouds ?" Silence! silence! (Truncheon.) — " Gentlemen, really I would thank you, but I can't speak '" Then, smg, boys, &c. Since the night was spent in clover, It is time Ave should give over, For the cash is nearly out ; So each forsake his quart, sir, To get a drap of short, sir, Then goes home, or elsewhere, no doubt. But, when the chairman starts, sir, A set of jolly hearts, sir, Will keep the fun agog ; There's one with laughter screeches, To hear another's speeches, And they are ail chuck full of groa-. Spoken.] ft Now, gentlemen, who's for starting?" — (Drunken man} — " Where's the use of stalling — there's your wile at the door !" — (Drunkard.) That alters the case ; a scolding wife would make any man start ; and as for mine, she's a complete ruffian; for whenever 1 goes home "with a drop in my e3 T e, she always tries to choatc me ! It was but the other night, when I was picking a mutton-bone, that she plunged it into my throat : and that accounts for my drinking ; for I've been trying to wash it down ever since ; but come, by way of a finisher, we'll say — Then sing, boys, and be merry, With a derry, hey down derry, At the Bull and the Cabbage Stalk. I'VE BEEN SHOPPING. AIR. — Tve been roaming. I'VE been shopping — I've been shop- ping To John Brown's in Begent Street, And I'm hopping — and I'm hopping With his shoes upon my feet. I've been roaming — I've been roam- ing For rose oil and lily rare, And I'm coming — and I'm coming With a bottle for my hair. P3 162 I've been roaming — I've been roam- ing To the pastrycook's, old Phipps, And I'm coming — and I'm coming With some kisses for my lips. I've been roaming — I've been roam- ing Up Bond Street and down Park Lane, And I'm coming — and I'm coming To my own house back again. LOVE AND THE TREAD MILL AIR. — Mr. Simpkins. NED Cleaver was a slaughterman, with such a killing way, He did Miss Flare the tripeman's daughter, into love betray, His rival, Tuck, the Butcher, a wily tongue had he, Could coax old Nick, no wonder, for he came from Carnaby Spoken.'] (Market.) Tol de rol, &c. Tuck made Miss Flare to Cleaver false, and play'd a motor's part, For with each love-letter he always sent her a large heart, Ned found it out, for she his dog call'd cur and kick d away, And sigh'd " she's false, " for don't the song say, love me love my Tray. (Pompey.) Tolderol,&c. Now with a candle in his cap, and melancholy phiz, He stalk'd about while neighbours cried, "poor Ned light headed is :" Ned challenged Tuck, but didn't load his pops with shot or Lall, Says he they've lead enough, for they've just come from Leaden Hall Market.) Tol de rol, &c. Cried Tuck, Ned sticks at nought but sheep, but I'll soon make him feel, And then he fell a sharpening his sword upon his steel, He march'd to meet the slaughter- man, and lest some blood might drop, He took a sack of saw dust that he d got from nis own shop. (Nibbled it.) . ■ Tol de rol, &c. COMIC SONGS. + *****+»+ + + *++* + ■£ **+ + ++*■* Tuck didn't want for pluck, and in the greatness of his heart. Swore though a butcher, Ned should find him quite a Boney part, Miss was a cag mag article, with her no more he'd deal, And Cleaver such a calf, that he would cut him up like veal (Cutlets) Tol de rol, &c. But, ere they fought, as they'd ex- press'd their bloodiness of mind, To take them both to Worship Street came constables behind, Where his Worship, as they loud ex- press'd their wish to tight and kill, To cure them of their milling, sent them to the Treading-Mill. (Brixton.) Tol de rol, &c. THE LOVING QUAKER. Air. — O, dear what can the matter be. VERILY, ah, how my heart keepeth bumping, A pendulum 'gainst my tough ribs loudly thumping, Or a mouse in a rat trap, that's too and fro jumping, Tis truth now, by yea, and by nay, And it's umph ! umph ! what can the matter be, Umph ! umph, what can the matter te, Mov'd by the spirit so, what can the matter be, Ephraim, thou'rt going astray. Yea, marvellous 'twas, when mine eyes first went roving, From meek sister Sarah towards vani- ty moving, I found a prophane one, it was I was loving, 'Tis truth, &c. Twas folly's vain garment, the maid smil'd so good in, Yea, silk hose, and pumps, on the pavement she stood in, Which stirr'd up my zeal, as you'd stir up a pudding. 'Tis truth, &c. When I, yea and nay ever pronounce to deceive her, May I bow down my body, to take off my beaver, COMIC SONGS. 163 I would cherish the maiden for ever and ever. By yea, and nay, this much I own, And 'tis umph, umph, what can the matter be, Umph, umph, what can the matter I verily long to know what can the matter be, When she is bone of my bone. SAM SNATCH. MY name's Sam Snatch a grab d'ye see, Never vas a bolder, Vith high and low 1 can make free, And tap 'em on the shoulder, Vene'er I call they're not at home, Such shy cocks, only mind 'em ; But ven to lodge vith me they come, Then I know vere to find 'em ; Spoken.] Sometimes though I meets vith a troublesome customer. T'other day, ven I vent to grab Snip, the tai- lor, as 1 vas running after him into the cock-loft, his vife tore the skirt of my coat off. I axed him to come down and sew it on for me, but he bolted the trap-door, and said he'd see me d d first ; so I vas obliged to valk home vith only half a coat, and sing— Fol de dol, de diddle dol, fol de dol, de diddle dol, fol de dol de da. To quod I never makes 'em trip, Vile they can come it freely ; And, if they stand a handsome tip, I uses 'em genteely. Your singers and musicianers I sometimes catch afloat, sirs, They say they do not like my bars. And I vont take their notes, sirs. Spoken.'] Von day, too, I nabbed a poet ; he talked about pig-asses, and a mews on fire ; he said something, too, about Homer and Wirgil. As to Homer and Wirgil, says I, if they're respectable housekeepers, I don't mind taking their bail, if not, you must go to quod, and sing — Fol de dol, de diddle dol, &c. 'Mong bucks of fashion I have plied, They found me sly and cunning. And often ven my nibbs they spied, Lord, how I'd set 'em running ! 'Mong dashing whips some sport I've made, Vith Benjamins, and slouches, For vine and tailors' bills unpaid Their tits and their barouches. ^ Spoken."] Yes, I nabbed one of 'em t'other day ; that was prime ! I took him to a genteel lodging in Chancery- lane. There, says I, now you're bang up, and if you can't come down you must stay here and sing — Fol de dol, de diddle dol, &c. THE ADVENTURES OF PAUL PRY. I'VE just dropped in to make a call, I hope 1 don't intrude now, 'Tis but Paul Pry, how are you all ? praj 7 do not think me rude now : They say that I've gone out of town, but that indeed's a story, Or how could I appear to make my handsome bow before ye. Poor Paul Prv. Ev'ry body laughs when they behold Paul Pry. Because I take an interest in other people's business, I'm bumped and thumped, and snub- bed and drubbed until I feel a dizziness. Which makes me vow I'll never do a kind and worthy action, For whatsoe'er 1 meddle in, — I ne'er give satisfaction. Poor Paul Pry. Every body fleers and jeers at poor Paul Pry. One night as next the wall I walked, my way in caution groping, I spied a ladder next a window pla- ced there for eloping, 1 knew this was not Quite Correct, so to the top did clamber, And just as I dropt in, I saw a man hide in a chamber. Poor Paul Pry. What a situation 'twas for poor Paul Pry. Who should the lady's father be but my friend Colonel Hardy, I pointed to his daughter's room, and bid him not be tardy ; 164 COMIC SONGS He quickly kicked me out of doors, and called me lying fellow ; But I came back, because I had forgot my umbrella. Poor Paul Pry, Every body's mischief falls on poor Paul Pry, This umbrella cost me one-and-nine- pence in the city ; To lose an article so useful would be shame and pity. I often too forget my gloves, affairs my mind distract so, While the people can't forbear from laughing" when they see me act so, Poor Paul Pry, Every body laughs when they behold Paul Pry. One lucky act has crowned my life, I saved a man from marrying, By fishing up some letters that down the stream were hurrying. A housekeeper she tried to hook her gudgeon of a master, But I saved the old bachelor from such a sad disaster. Poor Paul Pry, Every body laughs when they behold Paul Pry. They've got me in the picture-shops, "they have upon my honour ; I'm next to Venus, which they say, is quite a libel on her. No matter, if my friends still smile, their plaudits ne'er denying, To yield them more amusement, why I'll still continue Pry-ing. Pry, Pry, Pry, Every body laughs when they behold Paul Pry. SIR GOOSEBERRY GIM- CRACK AND MISS SQUASH. SIR Gooseberry Gimcrack was thin, Like one of your neat dapper mas- ters ; Miss Squash was fat up to her chin, Like a fillet of veal upon casters ; Her eyes through his heart such darts sent, Made whimsies in his little nob stir, And he looked, when a-courting he went Like a shrimp making love to a lobster. Flumme-y, mummery, heigholLmn ! This pair went a-walking one day. Arm in arm, like a firkin and fea- ther, Some posts chanced to stand in the way, And monstrously close, too, toge- ther; Sir Gooseberry whipped through, you're sure, But Miss Squash, the dear darling of toastes, As she wasn't made much like a skewer, In try ings tuck fast 'tween the Posies ! Squaliery, bawlery, heig-ho ! hum ! A TRIP TO BRIGHTON. Air.-— Songs of Shepherds. WHO'S for Brighton, the Coach is just starting, Come, take your places, or you'll be too late ; Drink up your tea, and prepare for departing ; Honest Simcock, the Coachman, for no one will wait. His new Safety Coach does the jour- ney in one day, For your luggage, the Porter stands making his bow, It's only like driving to Hampstead on Sunday, So swift and so easy the ride is I vow. Spoken.'] Now, Bill, have we got all our fare ? — No ; there's two La- dies to come yet. — Two Ladies wait- ing to complete our fare — come that's very fair of you. — La, Pa! is this the Safety Coach? — Vy, I declare if the front part isn't behind, and the top of the stage at the bottom — and then if it hasn't got two bodies? Yes; but there's nobody in it yet. Oh, here's somebody coming now. — How many do you carry, Coachman ? — Twelve outsides, and four in. — Have you got all your luggage ? No ; here's the live luggage to come yet. Now, ma'am, tumble up. Tumble up — I think I shall tumble down, fellow, if you push me in that way. — N o fear of making a false step with me, ma'am — I'll take steps to prevent that. You'd better give me the steps, youn? man, than take them away.— Come, COMIC SONGS 165 **+*»■»*■+*■*+■»»■■»» • who's for Brighton, here ?— Brighton j —Brighton, Sir? Oh, its only like driving to Hamp- I stead on Sunday, ! So smooth and so pleasant the ride is I vow. Of breaking your neck there is not the least tear now, Or jolting your bones, you so safely go down — For a crown very lately, 'tis true what you hear now, They Brighton have brought two miles nearer to Town. Then come along — we'll whisk you all down in one day, Don't you see now, how the Coach- man stands making his bow, *Tis only like driving to Hampstead on Sunday, So safe and so easy the ride is I vow. Spoken.'] "Now. Sir; Morning Paper — Times — Chronicle — Post. — A post ! pray take care of the post, or we shall be overtum'd. — Terrible ac- count of a great massacre in Nova Scotia — a thousand people killed. Dreadful massacre — that's stale : — we had that a week ago. Ah, but these are fresh killed, sir. — Fresh kill- ed, that fellow's a carcase-butcher. — Is that the News? No, ma'am it's the Advertiser. — Come, fallow, we don't want none of 3-our imperence ! — No, I see you've got enough of your own : you can spare some from your over- stock. — Remember the Porter, your Honour. — No, fellow: I can't bear imposition. — But you made me bear your box, though. — I'm sure I want- ed no porter, not I. — But, however, here's some beer for you.- -Thankee : your health; and may you live to grow generous. — Now, then ! off we go— Ya, hip!— Ya, hip!— Stz— Stz — Whew — Eh, Zounds! there's the fore-horse down. — What ! the four horses down 1 ? No, ma'am, only the leader — We must drive unicorn now. — Ah, I like to drive uniform — Yes, you uniformly drive me, Mrs. Wit- tall. — Drive unicorn! I said, your Honour. — Unicorn ! Vy, that's the strange beast with the horns in his forehead — Yes ; but there's stranger beasts about here, my dear, that have two horns in their Sorehead ! — Where's my wife? — Whispering behind to the Captain. — Is she; Oh, then, go on for— It's only like driving, &c. Of magical boxes we've read in ro- mances, That flew thro' the air, when far realms you'd approach — Of Horses of wood too, that went thro' strange dances, But what are they all to the New Safety Coach? "Why, psha ! modern travelling, mere wonders have soon done, That's magic, enchantment, if I don't mistake, If 3011'd take a small nap, just asleep fall in London, And egad, in five hours you in Brighton may wake. Spoken.] Now, Sir, change horses here 2 Please to remember the Driver — I leave you now. — Change horses, why, zounds we're changing Coach- man, too! No, no, fellow, you don't ring the changes on us in this manner : I've got no change. What's the name of this place, pray 1 — Ryegate, your Honour ! Damme, rascal, get off my toe, or you'll give me a Wry Gait. — Stay dinner, here, Sir— fifteen minutes allowed — two of them gone already ? Dinner's on table — here's the beef, Sir — Yes, but where's a plate? — Fetch you one directly — here's a plate — A plate — ah, but where's a knife and fork. — You shall have one directly, Sir. — Now, Sir, there you are all right. — Well, then, now thank heaven, I can get a bit in peace. — Time's out, Sir, coach is just ready to start! — Ah, but 1 shan't be ready to start this half hour. — Can't wait, you ought to have done before this — Done ! zounds, I've not begun ; I wish you'd let me enjoy my mutton, without giving me so much of your sauce along with it. — Three-and-sixpence a-head, Sir; trouble you for the money. — Three-and-sixpence ! why, I have scarcely had a bite. — No fault of ours. Sir — it was there for you. — A bite ! by the powers, its a bite al- together — but come along ! — If you'd take a short nap, &c 166 COMIC SONGS. ACTORS AND EARTHEN- WARE. Air. — Bow, wow, wow. WE'VE chang'd with pantomimic art and think it not a mockery, A playhouse to a china-shop, and ac- tors into crockery. And is it less than likelihood, although it may seem droll, sirs, If dancers into tumblers turn, and Punch into a bowl, sirs. Crack ! crack ! crack ! Mortals are But earthenware, That crack ! crack ! crack ! Fat Falstaff, as a butter-boat, may in his place be seen, sirs, And Quin, that jolly epicure, a tur- tle-soup tureen, sirs ; Some rum ones chang'd to rummers ; and many a funny elf, sirs, Where once he acted Matthew Mug, is now a mug himself, sirs. Crack ! crack ! &c, The tragic arm that formed a spout, while t'other was the handle, May join to form a tea-pot warm, and aid the School for Scandal ! Discordant singers turn'd to jars, and some delightful man, sir, Who warbled like Apollo, may have now become a Pan. sirs. Crack ! crack ! &c. So mecrack-brained Lear may still be here, forgetting all his care, sirs, Some dozen Milwoods, and Jane Shores, all made of brittle ware, sirs ; And Juliet's sweets, which Romeo once did fondly in a dream hug, May now a sugar-basin be, her milk- sop love a cream jug. Crack ! crack ! &c. Our actors sometimes will complain, and think, no doubt, with reason, Of being placed upon the shelf for more than half a season. Kind Jatfier Belvidera prized, and did with love bewitch her ! But here he's shelv'd, 'twixt Pierre and her, changed to his Friend and Pitcher. Crack, crack, &c. Behold Macbeth, at breakfast set, no more with horror sups, sirs, Othello mad, with saucer eyes, sees Cassio in his cups, sirs ; But let 'em still be what they will, while our frail clay endures, sirs, Whatever form you mould us to, we always shall be Ewers, sirs. Crack, crack, &c. THE CRIES OF LONDON. Fruitwoman. — Cherries ripe, cherries ripe, ripe I cry, Broom girl. — Puy a Proom, puy a proom. Jew. — Cloathes sale clow. Fruitwoman. — Cherries ripe, cherries ripe, come and buy. Broom Girl. — Long proom, short proom. Milk Woman. — Milk below. F'ruit Woman. — Cherries ripe, cher- ries ripe, taste and try. Match Girl. — Make me or break me, 'ere I go. Fruitwoman. — Cherries ripe, cherries ripe, here am I. Dust Man. — Dust oh, dust oh, Sweep. — Sweep soot oh. Ballad Singer.—What equals in life the delights of the Huntsman. Fish-woman. — Ya, Mackeral, macke- ral. Broom Girl. — Puy a proom. Ballad Singer. — For whom do life's cups most enchantingly flow. Poulterer. — Hare skins or rabbit skins. Singing Beggar. — There's no place like home. Lavender Girl. — Two bunches a pen- ny sweet lavender, as long as there's any. Ballad Singer. — Hark follow, hark follow. Broom Girl. — Puy a proom. Lavender Girl. — Sweet and pretty bow pots two a penny. 2nd Ballad Singer. — For there's no place like home. A BATCH OF BENEFITS. ' ALL the world's a stage,' says the poet, Mankind are all actor-folks too, And have, observation will show it, With benefits something to do ; Even bankrupts are benefit-tickets Of an act that will smooth all their rubs; COMIC SONGS. 167 And you'd take all the town for card- makers, It abounds so with benefit-clubs. Tol, lol &c. Tradesmen's cards are but benefit- tickets- To lead you to purchase their stocks ; But if credit by chance gets the rickets, Each ticket leads to the wrong box. All callings some benefit lean to ; The chandler to fatten must melt, The glazier is easily seen through, And the hatter's most certainly felt. Tol, lol, &c. Who gets better bread than the ba- - ker? In his steak too the butcher will put; And when he straps to, the shoema- ker. He will get the length of your foot. The tailor/by trimming your jacket, , To his beef gets some cabbage may- hap; While the publican, with all his racket, Has a benefit always on tap. Tol, lol, &c. The doctor to benefit bodies, To death physics phthisicky elves, While the lawyers get hold of Tom Noddies, And benefit none but themselves ; The miller of grist will retrench men, The grazier depends upon growth, And the farmer's like one of 3'our Frenchmen, A good thrashing best benefits both. Tol, lol, &c. SCHOOL ORATORY. Air. — Mrs. Casey ; 1 WENT to school with Joel Squint, In Yorkshire he did dwell, sir; I got a book, and 1 look'd m't, And soon I learnt to spell, sir : But growing older, he did say He never would forsake me, Nor throw my mighty sense away, So an orator he'd make me. Spoken.'] Aye, one day he called all the boys up — Come here, Char- ley says he, I want you — and so he did ; it was to pull my ear, till he made me roar out the fifteenth let- ter of the alphabet, bimon . Sprigs ! (faint voice.) Here. — (Master. J Why don't you speak 1 — (Boy.) Be cause 1 can't ; and mother tells me a still tongue shows a wise head. — ( Master.) Then your mother shouldn't send you here to learn oratory : but, come, sirrah, recite me Monsieur Tonson. (Boy.~) There liv'd, as fame reports, in days of yore, At least some fifty or sixty years, or more, A famous — (Master.} Why, sir! what, sir? eh, sir ! — (Boy. J Why, sir ! what, sir ? eh, sir! Give me your hand, sir — Sol did, when he beat it with his cane, and I sang — If this be their school oratory, Thay have properly sickened me, sir. Then he would make me tear my voice, Till I thought my lungs were bro- ken ; But 'gad, he never gave me a choice Of all the speeches I've spoken ; There's Brutus, Hannibal, d'ye see, With other rigmaroles, sir, With speeches from Marc Antony, And a thousand more, by goies, sir . Spoken.] Aye, I was just like a parrot, chattering away from morning till night ; and it may not be amiss to show the manner in which 1 learnt. First, in the morning I began — my name is Norval ; on the Grampian hills my father feeds — a lowly man — of parentage obscure did they re- port him ; the cold earth his bed, wa- ter his drink — -and yet within a month, a little month, or ere these shoes were old — I do remember an apothecary — round as my shield, had not yet tilled its horns — For there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune — To be, or not to be, that's the question — For I am arm'd so strong in honesty — that I can smile and smile, and murder while I smile ! So thus I was taught to expect talent, without ever enjoy- ing it, and sung — If this be their school oratory, &c. 168 COMIC SONGS. Now Isaac Meek could bawl aloud, While Johnny Loud was squeaking. And the master he took snuff i' th crowd. While all the boys were speaking ; But Jemmy Twist, a tailor's son, One day, with book so red, sir, Was speaking a speech, and when he was done, Threw the book at his master's head, sir. Spoken.'] It was only an accident. But Jemmy was famed for his ac- tion ; and one day, being told that Buckingham was taken, ne exclaim- ed, " Off with his head f" Away the book flew, hit the schoolmaster, knocked off his wig, broke his specta- cles, and upset a dozen flower-pots on the sky-light, which made me laugh and sing — If this be their school oratory, &c. THE LITTLE FARTHING RUSHLIGHT. SIR Solomon Simons, when he first did wed, Blushed black as a crow, his lady did blush light ; The clock it struck twelve, they were both tucked in bed, In the chimney a rushlight — a little farthing rushlight. Fal de diddle de, a little farthing rushlight. Sir Solomon then gave his lady a nudge, And cries he, " Lady Simon, there's vastly too much light," "Then, Sir Solomon," says she, "to get up you can't grudge, And blow out the rushlight, the lit- tle farthing rushlight." Fal de diddle de, &c. Sir Solomon, then, out of bed pops his toes, And vastly he swore, and very much aid curse light, And then to the chimney, Sir Solo- mon, he goes, And he puffed at the rushlight, the little farthing rushlight. Fal de diddle de, &c. Lady Simons then got up in her night- cap so neat, And over the carpet my lady she did brush light, And there Sir Solomon she found in a heat, A puffing at the rushlight, — then she puffed at the rushlight : But neither of them both could blow out the rushlight. Fal de diddle de, &c. Sir Solomon and Lady, with their breath quite gone, Rung the bell, in a rage, they de- termined to crush light ; Half asleep, in his shirt, then, up came John, And he puffed at the rushlight, the little farthing rushlight, But neither of the three could blow out the rushlight. Fal de diddle de, &c. Cook, Coachee, men, and maids, very near, all in buff, Came, and swore that in their lives they ne'er met with such light ; And each of the family, by turns, had a puff Of the little farthing rushlight,— the cursed farthing rushlight. Spoken.'] First, the old cook said let me try it, — wind does wonders — > I'll try and blow it out. (puff.) Then Sir Solomon said — let me try it ; I'll do it, I'll warrant, (puff.) Then Lady Simon said — Sir Solomon, you can t do it, please let me try it, I'm long- winded, I'll do it presently, (puff, it, (puff.) But neither of the family could blow out the rushlight. Fal de diddle de, &c. The watchman, at last, went by, cry- ing one ; — Here, vatchmans, come up, than you we might on vorse light ! Then up came the watchman, — the business was done, For he turned down the rushlight, the little farthing rushlight, Fal de diddle de, and he put out the rushlight. COMIC SONGS. 169 *,***r*++++v*+*»*i MOGGY ADAIR. WHAT'S all the world to me! Desert and bare ! Moggy wo'n't go with me To Dundee-fair. There it was limping Ned Gave her a ribbon red, For which I broke his head — (All for) Moggy Adair! Who made the saucepan shine ? Moggy Adair ! Who boiled nice dumplings nine 1 Moggy Adair! Who, when they all were done, Because I didn't run, Eat 'em up every one ? (O, cruel) Moggy Adair ! But now thou rt cold to me. False, I declare ! Lett me for Timothy, At the Brown Bear ! Now in my garters twined, I'll dangle in the wind, Oh ! — no, I'll change my mind. (So a fig for) Moggy Adair ! MEMORANDA IN CONFU- SION. FOUR-and-twenty actors all of a row, Four-and-twenty actors ail of a row, There was the great immortal Kemble, who made the mob in Juli- us Caesar tremble ; and after him came George Ccoke, who, too soon, the stage forsook; then the famous Edmund Kean, so great in Over- reach I ween ; also his Majesty King- El liston, so great in apologies and other fun ; with Dowton in Doctor Cantwell, and Pope's Ghost that can rant well ; and Joe Munden who made us laugh in Crack, and Terry that didn't, when he played Old Jack ; there was also Blanchard's Polonius and Frances, with a long list of whim which enhances ; Fawcett's Captain Copp and Caleb Quotem, with others, if you'll note 'em ; Young's Prospero, a better where will you seek? nor must we forget Sam Russell's Jerry Sneak ; also Jones's Tom ShufBeton and Flutter, and Connor's Doctor O'Toole and Captain O'Cutter ; with Macready's Virginius and Rob Roy, and Jack Johnstone, the Irish Boy : Farren, who is so fine in Teazle and Old Mirabel, and Farley, who always blusters and looks so terrible ; Charles Kemble, who plays to the mind and to the heart, and George Smith, who always says he likes a good part; Taylor and Charley Horn, both sing- ers born, as also was Cooke, d'y see. 1 don't mean him they call T. P. This is my Memorandum-Book, And these my memorandums. Four-and-twenty authors all of a row, Four-and-twenty authors all of a row, There was Morton, who wrote Speed the Plough, I wonder why he don't write now ; Coleman, who wrote the Heir at law and Broad Grins, now sets up to correct all our sins ; then there is Mr. Birch, of Com- hill, who lives there still, and yet looks sufficiently mild to write ano- ther Adopted Child ; also Mr. Shee, that the Deputy Licenser would not let us see, the more pity for he ; How- ard Paine, who wrote and will write again ; Mr. Poole of the French school ; the great little Moncrieff, and its my belief, his wit is very brief ; and Mr. Keep, who wrote the Turret Clock, long since turned out of the stock ; with the pragmatic little Knight who thinks (but he s mistaken) that he can write ; he manufactured the Ve- teran, may his next piece have a bet- ter run ; Mr. Walker, who wrote Wal- lace and a melo-drama, pity they were not knocked down by the ham- mer ; Mr. Beazley , who writes very easily ; Mr. Peake, who wrote a farce in a week ; George Soane, who wrote the Falls of Clyde, and several other pieces beside ; and there was, &c. This is my Memorandum- Book, And these my memorandums Four-and-twenty managers all of a row, Four-and-twenty managers all of a row, There was Mr. Harris, of Covent- garden, who paid his actors every farden ; Elliston, of Drury-lane, who never paid any one over and over Q 170 COMIC SONGS. again ; there was of the Haj^market, lame Foote, if it had not been for his wit and wooden leg, he could not do't ; Mr. Arnold, of the English Opera, no man could behave more properer ; with Mr. Ilodweil, of the Adelphi, a very clever elf he ; Wil- liams, who sold ham and beef, and took the Surry, then let it to a Honey- man in a hurry ; Mr. Davis, whose Amphitheatre succeeds vastly, al- though it once belonged to Astley ; Messrs Davidge, Bengough, and _Le Clerq, who has each of the Cobourg a share ; . and there was Mr. Morton, &c. This is my Memorandum-Book, And these my memorandums. Four-and-twenty critics all of a row, Four-and-twenty critics all of a row, There was the Times, which cuts up the actors like malefactors, if they don't look after their private charac- ters ; the Chronicle, quite ironical ; the British Press and Morning Ad- vertiser, all to make the people wiser ; the British Traveller and Courier, which make actors and authors fear ; the Observer and Common Sense, both sold for sevenpence ; the Exa- miner and Dispatch give a critical scratch ; Egan's Life in London and Sunday limes come pat to my rhymes ; and the paper written by Mr. Bell, and the John Bull by whom we can't tell ; the Monthly Magazine and Literary Gazette, with the Lon- don, Edinburgh, and a whole pro- vincial set ; with Thomas's small Ob- server, the stage adorning, only it went and murdered Mr. Young one morning ; and there was Mr. Harris, &c. This is my Memorandum-Book, And these my memorandums. THE NIGHT-COACH. Air. — Dear Creatures, %c. COME, lads the night-coach is ready, So let us make haste, and begin we to jog, You, Jack, hold the leaders more steady, Whilst I light the lantern, in case of a fog ; Call the passengers out, Mrs. Popps and her daughter, The lusty old gentleman, in a brown coat, And, likewise, just bring me some brandy-and-water, To dislodge the tough cold that is fixed in my throat. Spoken.'] Come, ma'am we are all ready to start. Jack, mind that horse ; don't you see he's got his leg in that lady's bonnet-box? Never mind, ma'am, lie's a gentle creature, and would not hurt nothing, especially a lady. Hallo ! now, what are you ar- ter? Why, I'm arter my time. Come, ma'am, wo'n't you get in ? I should feel particularly obliged, Mr. Coach- man, by your assistance. Certainly, ma'am. Now, are you ready 1 — hold fast, ma'am, there you are, pitched in to a nicety. — I warrant to throw in all my lady-passengers with sugar- loaf precision. Sugar-loaf precision ? there's a sweet compliment for the ladies. My eyes! what a fat 'un, a'n't she ? Yes ; what legs ! bushel legs in a peck shoe, full measure. Now, Mr. Frost, are you ready? Why, ye-e-e-s, I'm quite ready, but I'm so so so ter- ribly cold. Sorry for that, sir, hav'n't you got a great coat? No, I have not got a great coat. Hav'n't you got any gloves, sir? N-o-o no gloves — ye-e-es, I have one glove. Hav'n't you got a handkerchief, sir? Y-e-es, I have a handkerchief. Hadn't you better tie it round your neck ? Y-e-es ; but suppose I want to blow my nose ? Oh ! Mr. Coachman, I wish you would step up to Betty Chambermaid, and ask her for my dear husband's picture, I wouldn't lose it for the world; 1 al ways have my husband hanging about my neck, and make a rule to have him on my bosom all night. Why, I declare if you stand here much long- er, Mr. Coachman, your horses will be like Captain Parry's ships. How's that ? Why, frozen to the pole. Will they ? why, then, here goes. — Smack flies the whip, the horses are trying To distance an arrow, or outfly the wind, COMIC SONGS. 171 Still, still, they are snorting and flying, As they leave the coach-office, in dust, far behind. Sleep fain would silence the prattle Of mothers and daughters now stowed safe inside, But bumps on the road keep the tattle Alive, and full going the whole of the ride, Now flies a joke, and now wake peals of jesting, And now are some quizzing, whilst others sit still, Some join in the fun, whilst others protesting That some people's manners were wondrous ill. Spoken.] Well, for my part, I wish you would be quiet with your sing- ing, sir ; a stage-coach isn't a place for demi-semi-quavers. I wish I had a glass of brandy-and-water. Brandy- and- water ! [Sings'] Friend of ?ny soul, this goblet sip. Well I wish 1 could go to sleep, 1 could slumber. [Sings] Slumber, my darling. Sir, you are very- disagreeable ; I certainly wish you would mount the coach-box. Yes, or suppose it was all dickey with him. Excuse me, sir, but as I am a lady of weak health, any irregularity in my repose might be prejudicial to my health ; therefore, would it be at ail troublesome to beg the loan of your shoulder for a pillow ? You may do as you like, ma'am ; but when 1 tra- vel in a night-coach I alway T s carry a pin between my lingers. What a sa- vage ! A savage ! [Sings] Where nought but savage monsters roar, zohere nought but brutes do dwell. Mamma, how long will it be before we get home ? I wish I was there. [Sings] Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home. Why, we are nearly there, my dear ; we hay'n't above a mile to go. [Sings] Within a mile of Edinborough town. Will you be quiet, sir! you will wake even the mill-stone. [Sings] Peruvians, awake to glory. Sir, I should not like to hit you a blow. [Sings] Blow, blow, thou winter's wind. I think it very unkind — [sings] Thou art not so unkind. Hollo ! hah ! {Sings] Hollo ! hark ! hollo ! hark ! If there were not ladies in the coach, you should pay for this dearly, [Sings] Dearly, dearly, whilst truth and ho- nest love are thine. Well, thank hea- ven, we are at our journey's end. [Sings] Our journey's happy e?ided. Now, sir, I'll certainly knock you down. [Sings] Dozen, dozen, down der- ry down. There's no righting amongst the passengers. Stop, coachman, will you take this letter to the Nine-Elms ? Have you brought a shilling with it? No. Then I can't take it : it's contra- ry to act of parliament to carry letters. The journey is finished, relations are meeting, Rejoiced to escape the fatigues of the coach ; Hands, arms, and lips now are greeting. Farewell all our troubles, for com- forts approach. THE DIGGER. COME, measter, I be's going to sing, At least be's going to try 7 , Some folks can chant like any thing, And some like you and I, Some sing to please your volk of taste, And some to please themselves, And so I sing the time to waste, As on I digs and delves. And sometimes as I work away, Strange thoughts come cross my head, As how most volks, as I may say, ^ For pastime dig, or bread ; The rake he nightly digs his grave, Your over crafty elf Digs deep, and most times just to have, A pit to cateh himself. ■ The lawyer digs a cunning snare, To catch the client's fee, And then, by way of neighbours fare, The devil digs for he. So now I've spoke my meaning flat, We're del vers great and small, Some dig for this thing, some foi that, But sexton digs for all. Q2 172 COMIC SONGS. MUNDEN'S CHAPTER OF BENEFITS. MANY chapters I've read, of folks fashions, and kings, Sights, pockets, and other like every day things ; But of chapters there's none half so proper, that's clear, As to read o'er my Chapter of Bene- fits here. Derry down, &c. My first, was, when long in the coun- try I'd stump'd, Up to town, with "The Farmer" brisk Jemmy I jump'd ; And strait through " i he Turnpike Gate" merrily past, Where still I've remained your Crack man to the last. Derry down, &c. " Sprigs of Laurels" I gather'd in JSipperkin next, Nor felt in the high " Road to Ruin" perplex'd ; As Old Dornton the banker, I urg'd nature's cause, And drew immense drafts on the pub- lic applause. Derry down, &c. We very well know " Every One has his Fault," But as Harmony often I made anger halt; I have met with my " Rivals," but say what they .will, In Sir Anthony, taith, I was absolute still. Derry down, &c. The brisk "Busy Body" my fame next advances ; I gave public favor a Gripe in Sir Francis , And in serving the public I truly can say, 1 a great busy body have prov'd to this day. Derry down, &c. In " Speed the Plough" able and han- dy I prov'd, As from project to project I merrily rov'd ; I invented a new plan to pleasure the town, And reap'd a rich Harvest of wealth and renown. Derry down, &c. In a " Cure for the Heart Ache" I rapidly rose, And cufd many sad hearts, I trust, of their woes ; As Old Rapid the Tailor, I made a new suit For the public, and gain'd cash and custom to boot. Derry down, &c. All Watchful in " Past Ten o'Clock" for your ease, As Old Dozey I prov'd I awake was to please ; Yes, night after night to my post I was true, Till at last in Sam Dabbs you found out " Who was Who." Derry down, &c. But though I've through so many characters past, There's one that will stick by me still to the last, It is, as I hope many here fully know, Your obliged, your devoted, your constant friend Joe. Derry down, &c. FAITHLESS SALLY BROWN. Air —Nae luck about the house. YO UNG Ben he was a nice young man, A Carpenter by trade : He fell in love with Sally Brown, That was a lady's maid. And as they fetched a walk one day, They met a press-gang crew : So Sally she did faint away. Whilst Ben he was brought to. Tol lol, &c. The boatswain swore with wicked words, Enough to shock a saint, That, tho' she did seem in a fit; 'Twas nothing but a. feint Come girl, said he, hold up your head, He'll be as good as me ; For when your swain is in our boat, A boatswain he will be. Tol lol &c. So when they d made their game of her, And taken off her elf, She rous'd, and found she only was A coming to herself, COMIC SONGS. 173 And is he gone 1 and is he gone ? I She cried and wept outright, Then I will to the water side, And see him out of sight. Tol lol, &zc. A waterman came up to her, Now, young woman, said he, If you weep on so, you will make Eve-water in the sea. Alas! they've taken my beau Ben To sail with old Benbow : And her woe began to run afresh, As if she said gee-woe. Tol lol, &c Says he, they've only taken him To the Tender ship, you see ! The Tender! cried poor Sally Brown, What a hardship mat must be. Now Ben, he sail'd to many a place Thaf s underneath the world; ' But in two years the ship came home And all the sails were furi'd Tol lol, &c. But when he call'd on Sally Brown, To see how she went on, He found she'd got another Ben, Whose Christian name was John. Oh ! Sally Brown, oh ! Sally Brown How could you serve me so 1 I've met with many a breeze before, But never such a blow! Tol lol, &c. Then, pondering o'er his 'bacco box, He heav'd a heavy sigh, And then began his eye to pipe, And then to pipe his eye ! And then he tried to sing " All's Well," But could not, tho' he tried ; His head was turnd, and so he chew'd His pig-tail, till he died. Tol lol, die. His death, which hsppen'd in his birth! At forty odd he fell :— They went and told the sexton, and The Sexton tolVd the bell. Now Sal his funeral did attend With fearful anxious look, She waited in the cold church-yard Till the parson shut his book. Tol lol, &c GREENWICH IN AN UPROAR Air. — The Country Club. AWAY with melancholy, Come, let us ail be jolly, And Care drive far away : To Greenwich we'l. repair, sirs, Where hundreds of the fair, sirs, Are seen so spruce and gay : Now up the London- road, sirs, We join the merry crowd, sirs, And reach the Bricklayers' Arms : We make no longer stay, sirs, But hasten to the fair, sirs, Where noise and tumult reigns. Spoken.] ValTc up, ladies andgem- ?nen, here's the vonderful learned dog, the most hut if idlest little haniinal that never was seen ; he possesses more knowledge than ever Sheakspur or Wirgil did ; this is the last time you may ever see him again — only the small charge of one penny. (Another voice.) Now's the time; here's the vonderful man that lives upon fire, and yet he is always as cool as a cow cumber ; he keeps aveaiifig manu- factory in his mouth sufficient to sup- ply all the girls in the fair with rib- bins; he's one of the vonderfullest men that ever vas seen : — make vay therefor that ere young lady; this vay, ma'am : — show 'em in there — just a-going to begin. And these are, I declare, O ! The rigs and humours rare, O ! Of famous Greenwich fair. Now, to behold the fair, sirs, And all the wonders there, sirs, A motley group arrive ; In their best Sunday clothes, sirs, Come lasses with their beaux, sirs, And through the crowd they drive : Cries one, " O ! that's the griffin, And that ere is Miss Biffin. O Lord ! what sights are those 1 We shall be squeezed to death, sirs, O ! I'm quite out of breath, sirs, Let's get into the shows** Spoken.] This way for the players — this is none of your paltry con- juration-shows, for, without exaggera- tion, they are ail botheration, and Q3 174 COMIC SONGS. you cannot gain from them the least information or edification. The name of our piece is " The Fall of the Userper!" It's the true representation of the events of a nation which long- has been held in high estimation, who sent a deputation to the head of the nation, but his power, you must know, v/as through usurpation. When he saw the deputation, he was in great consternation, much agitation, and vast tribulation, and his eye-balls swelled with high indignation : so, without procrastination, or cool de- liberation, he ordered the deputation to be sent to a dungeon and die by starvation ; but a bold determination was made by the nation to resist the usurpation, and set the tyrant's habi- tation in a state of conflagration ! which was instantly done, without hesitation ; the sword and the pistol made great devastation ; the usurper was slain, and all his relations, then followed the liberation of the brave deputation. 1 assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that our performers are all of the first reputation, they use their endeavours to gain approbation, and the piece is adorned with superb decorations — so now is your time, or you'll lose the gratification of seeing The rigs and humours rare, O ! Of famous Greenwich fair, O ! Of famous Greenwich fair Now all the merry throng, sirs, Fly swift the Park along, sirs, And hail the welcome day ; While up the hills so high, sirs, In haste are seen to fly, sirs, The lads and lasses gay : And, if they chance to fall, sirs, The boys they loudly bawl, sirs, And all the merry trains ! And thus they all give birth, sirs, To joy and harmless mirth, sirs, And pleasure solely reigns. Spoken, in different voices occasion- ally.] Veil, 1 declare this is rare vorks, I'm almost choked with the dust. Veil, my duck, don't put your- selves in a f antique y if ve goes avay now, ve shall lose all the fun — up and vin 'em, up and vin 'em ; here's some o' th' right sort here — now my pihbles, knock one down, have 'em all. Oh, Billy, look'e there on the vater, at that ere large ship ; I really thinks as how it's a man ot var. A man of war ! why it's only a fishing-smack. Veil, how did I know. O, what a charming landskip! don't you see that ere house top o' th' hill % that's the observingtory . where the 'stronomers make constellations. " Never mind the observatory," cries a loyal citizen, emphatically ; " look at yonder build- ing, where every true British sea- man, disabled in the service of his king and country, receives the reward of his courage and loyal ty." And these are, I declare, O ! The rigs and humours rare, O Of famous Greenwich fair. ADVENTURES IN A STEAM- BOAT. Air. — Tortoises hell Tom. Cat. OH, what a row, wliat a rumpus and a rioting, Those endu-ie, you may be sure, who go to sea, A ship is a thing that you never can be quiet in, By wind or steam 'tis all the same, 'twas so with me. Wife and daughter on the water said they'd like to sail a bit, I consented, soon repented, and be- gan to rail a bit ; Papa, now pray do go to day, the weather's so inviting, lauk ! I'm sure 'twill do such good to you, they feed you like a fighting- cock. Oh, what a row, &c. In a boat I got afloat as clumsy as an elephant, So spruce and gay to spend the day and make a splash, Indeed it's true, I did it too for step- ping in I fell off on't, And overboard, upon my word, I went slap dash. Wife squalling, daughter bawling, every thing provoking me, Called a hog or poodle-dog, all the sailors joking me, Dripping wet, in a pet, with many more distressibles, A fellow took the long boat-hook and caught my inexpressibles. Oh, what a row, &c. COMIC SONGS. 175 Such a gig without a wig on deck I was exhibited. Laughed at by the passengers, and quizzed by the crew, Raved and swore that on shore I'd rather have been gibbeted, Than thus half drowned by all around be roasted too. Danger past, and dry at last indulg- ing curiosity, I stared to see the vessel flee v. ith such a strange velocity. Pray, said 1, to one hard by, what power can impel us so f The smokey devil goes by steam, at least the sailors tell us so. Oh, what a row, &c. Not a sail to catch a gale, yet magi- cally on I went, 'Gainst wind and tide, and all be- side, in wonder quite, Cast my eye to the sky, and tall as London's monument I saw the kitchen-chimney smoke as black as ink. People toiling, roasting, boiling, bless us such a rookery, They'd soup, and fish, and fowl, and flesh, a London-Tavern cookery, Then the noise of men and boys, a din to rival an hubbub, I thought the crew were devils too, the Master captain Belzebub. Oh, what -a row, &c. Wife to me so lovingly says now's your time to pick a bit, The dinner's serving up below, and we must fly. Says I, my dear, I'm very queer, I'm going to be sick a bit, I'm seized with a dizziness, I faint, Idie; I cannot eat, I loathe my meat, I feel my stomach failing me, Steward, hasten, bring a basin, what the deuce is ailing me ; If 'tis handy get some brandy, the malady to quench unable, Down 1 lay for half a day, in pickle quite unmentionable. Oh, what a row, &c. As to dinner I'm a sinner if I touched a bit of it ; But anchor cast and home at last, I'm safe once more, In a packet such a racket, crowding to get qait of it ; Like cattle on a coaster we're hail- ed on shore : With how d'ye do, and how are you, I see you're better physically, Zounds, be still, I'm very ill, you're always talking quizzically ; Some with glee may go to sea, but I shall not be willing, sirs, For such a day again to pay just two pounds fifteen shillings, sir;. Oh, what a row, &c. THE MISFORTUNES OF MR. GEOFFRY MUFFINCAP. ONE morn, whilst I was brewing, My thoughts each thought pursuing, First malt and hops, next Molly Popps, Thinks 1, I'll go a wooing. Indeed I will, O yes, I will, Tol lol lol, tol lol lol, toi lol lol, lol lol li do. Chance in my brewhouse brought her; Dame Popps, I love your daughter ; And feel inclined to tell my mind, And cut my longing shorter. Indeed I do, O yes, I do, &c. Says she, refrain your twitters, If your mind does not, fit hers — As like the beer would be your dear — She sometimes smacks of bitters. Indeed she does, O yes, she does, &c. My daughter's fair to view, sir, But she may mischief brew, sir, And few can vie with her black eye, But yours may be so too, sir. Indeed it may, O yes, it may, &c. My Molly dear now came in, Whilst love my heart inflaming ; Her mother said, the lad's afraid His passion you'll be blaming. I'm sure you will, O yes, you will, &c Cried Moll, you stupid rash cub, Do you think I'd marry such a scrub ? Your hopes desist — and with her fist, She rolled me in the mash-tub ! Indeed she did ! O lord ! she did, &c 176 COMIC SONGS •++++*+++ ++*» THE PUBLICAN. Air. — Bartlemy Fair. IN a busy public-house, Where the customers I chouse, The merry landlord I, . Keep 'em drinking sly and dry, And, with jorums pushed about, I rub the short score out, And chalks another in, long and rare, O. Spoken.] Yes, I manages to give every goose a long bill, but, lord ! what customers attends my house : — Tom Dry drinks like a fish; Tim Dismal's always crying for spirits, and Joe Brandyface for Rum, though I must own I have more rum custo- mers than him too. With my glass of gin, What a din ! Black is white, Mustn't fight. Hey down, ho down, derry der- ry down, What a whimsical house is the Bear, O ! On club-night what a row, While the members in we show, Bowing, scraping, and all that, While I know well who's the flat, To drink and cut a dash, While I laugh and take the cash, Because I am the host so spruce and rare, O ! Spoken.} Dick Smith always gives me the money with an oath, but that is nothing, for every one costs a shil- ling, The Irishman's an odd fish, and swears by his soul that he will have more than enough; the Scotchman never pays till he's quite drunk ! and the Welshman goes skipping home, as merry as a goat, with my Glass of gin, &c. I doctor well the beer, Though good it may appear, And the spirits, too, likewise, For fear that they should lise Too soon into the head, Which would make my custom dead, Though, egad, I well can drive away care, O ! Spoken.] What's the news, Mr. Landlord 1 says a customer. Nothing, sir, says 1, only an impudent fellow has taken my house off in a song. By my soul, then, says an Irishman, he must have a devilish heavy load ; but I think you are making a bit of a bull ; for, from what 1 see, your house is where it was before. Well, says I, that's all I want, so he may sing his song, as long as my house stands ; and I don't care how many people take me off, so long as they take off my stock-in trade, with my Gla ass of gin, &c. A BUNDLE OF TRUTHS. Air. — When Tve Money lam merry. BARNEY Bodkin broke his nose, Want of money makes us sad, Without feet we can't have toes, Crazy folks are always mad ; A farthing rushlight's very small, Doctors wear large bushy wigs, One that's dumb can never bawl, Pickled pork is made of pigs. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding's not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor's goose can never fly. Patriots say they'll mend the nation, Pigeons will make pretty pies, Lawyers deal in botheration, A gun's too big for shooting flies, Irish whiskey's very good, . Lundy Foot will make you sneeze, A barber's block is made of wood, Pepper's good with buttered peas. Right fol de riddle, &c. Times will grow better, never fear, Old maids in scandal take delight, Candles now are very dear, Roguery will come to light ; Chicken gloves a'n't made for pigs, Very seldom asses die, Plum-pudtiing should be stuffed with figs, The Monument is very high. Right fol de riddle, &c. Puppet-shows young folks amuse, Christmas comes but once a year, Wooden legs wear out no shoes, Sixpence is a quart of beer, COMIC SONGS. 177 We shall all live till we die, Barney leave the girls alone, Catsup's not good with apple-pie. Churchwardens' hearts are made of stone. Right fol de riddle, &c. Garter's keep the stockings up, Ali bakers are not honest men, When a dog's young he's called a pup, The cock is tougher than the hen ; Frenchmen can run very well. Turtle soup is very nice, Courtiers a fat lie can tell, Toasted cheese is bait for mice. Right fol de riddle, &c. Tailors cabbage all your cloth, Shins of beef are very tough, Flummery is just like froth, Lawyers all are up to snuff; Jolly tars are fond of fun u God save the king," we'll nobly shout ; . And now, good folks, my song is done, Nobody knows what 'twas about. Right fol de riddle, &c. MISS WRINKLE AND THE THATCHER. IN a village there lived an old maid, Who was ne'er known for trifles to fret, But yet she was sadly afraid That a husband she never should get. Miss Wrinkle was fifty, it can't be denied, Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, de ; Yet still to be married she constantly sighed, Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, de. She went in the garret to pray, And, hoping her prayer might be granted, She never omitted a day To name in her prayers what she wanted. For, though she was fifty, it can't be denied, Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, de ; Yet still to be married she constantly sighed, Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, da. A thatcher, one day, through the roof, «fe At her prayers did espy this old dove Then popped in his head, gave her proof Her devotions were heard from above. " Will a Thatcher do for you ? Miss Wrinkle ;" quoth he. Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, de. " For better or worse, III consent," replied she, Sing fal de ral, lal de ral, de. BARCLAY AND PERKINS'S DRAYMAN. Air. — Merry lanced the Quaker's Wife. NEAR Southw ark-Bridge, on the Surrey-side, Lived a widow, who much did lack man, Her lily-white hand she'd long denied To one John Brown, a black man ; This John Brown stuck to her tight, Her heart was another way, man ; Her thoughts by day, and dreams by night, Was on one of Barclay and Per- kins's draymen ! This drayman was more than six feet high, A proper great broad-backed man ; She thought him best, her reason why, He was twice as big as the black man ? His face was like the full moon just 'rose, More like a priest than a layman ; The eyes they sparkled, and so did the nose, Of Barclay and Perkins's drayman. The black was a footman, and wore a cocked hat. Of dressing he had the knack man ; Round his neck was a white cravat, That set off the face of the black man; At the shape of his legs he looked with pride, Though they had no shape to dis- play, man ; And he looked, when he grinned, with his mouth so wide, As if he could swallow the dray- man. 178 COMIC SONGS. This black man, Brown, did not despair, He was a decent clack man, And said, " Me know dat my face not fair, Dat's cause me such a black man ; But black nor white finger can't feel, In de dark dis all one same man ; Me tink me mush great more genteel, Dan Barglay Be'rkins's drayman." Says she, " We never can make a match, Yourself you off may pack, man, I should think I'd got in the arms of Old Scratch, If I went to bed with a black man." Says he, " O, scratch dat out of your head, Dow my colour is black, I'm a gay man." You'd fin it worser to go to bed Wid Barclay Berkins's drayman," Says she, " If truly my mind I tells, 1 don't wish your feelings to rack, man, But really there is such nasty smells, What comes from every black man, You can't think how my nose it pains, Though 1 turn it another way, man." Says Brown, " Dan't so bad as de stink of de grains From Barglay Berkins's drayman." Talk of the devil, he's sure to come ; The door at that moment flew back, man, There stood the drayman, all so glum, And he looked quite blue at the black man ; " That there lady," says he, " is free, If she likes to have you she may, man, But don't 3 r ou come here to tell lies about me," Says Barclay and Perkins's dray- man. Poor Mr. Brown was petrified, His courage went not to come back, man ; He sighed and groaned, and softly cried, " Me wish me wan'd a black man," His eyes did roll, and his teeth did grin, Says she.." You may go your way, ; And don't let me catch you here agr in" Said Barclay and Perkins's dray- man. THE CAT AND THE KITTENS. THE clock had struck one, Mr. Jones went to bed, Fal de ral lal, de ral lal, de ral de ral laddy, And strange was the vision that roam- ed in his head, Fal de ral, &c. A scratching he heard and a mighty great moan, Oh '• says he to himself, sure the devil is come — Fal de ral, &c. To be sure, what a horrible sight to behold ! Fal de ral, &c. What he saw with his eyes turned all his blood cold ; Fal de ral, &c. A great tabby cat with nine kits at her tail, J umped smack on the bed, and thus did bewail — Fal de ral, &c. Last night, oh ! you drowned us every one, Fal de ral, &c. And, pray, Mr. Jones, what have we done l Fal de ral. &c. Though each of us had nine lives, you ne'er a one spared, Then the old cat swelled her tail, and the kittens all sweared — Fal de ral, &c. Now the old cat's eyes, one black, t'other red, Fal de ral, &c. And her tail swelled three times as big as her head, Fal de ral, &c. You villain, she cried, and she cockad up her ba^ck, With her eyes flashing fire, in his face she flew smack, (swew.J Fal de ral, &c. Oh ! then for to hear how poor Mr. Jones halloed, Fal de ral, &c. COMIC SONGS. 179 When the old cat scratched his face, and the kittens all followed. Fal de ral, &c. Have mercy, have mercy, 'tis for mercy I sue, The old cat she sweared CmezvJ no, I'll be d— d if I do— Fal de ral, &c. Then there was an odd thought pop- ped into his head, Fal de ral, &c. Oh, says he to himself, I'll pretend to be dead, Fal de ral, &c. Then away went the cat and her sweet littie train, And Jones swore he'd ne'er drown any kittens again — Fal de ra!, &c. CURIOUS COINCIDENCES. Air. — Over the Water to Charley. 'TIS curious to find in this overgrown town, While through it's long streets we are dodging, That many a man is in trade settled down, Whose name don't agree with his lodging ! For instance, Jack Monday in Friday- street dwells, Mr. Pitt in Fox-court is residing ; Mr. White in Brozcn's Buildings green grocery sells, While East in West-square is abid- ing. Mr, Lamb in ~Red-Lion-street perks up his head, To Lamb's Conduit-street Lyon goes courting ; Mr. "Boxer at Battle-bridge hires a bed While Moen is in iSzm-street disport- ing; Bill B.ozvn up to Green- street to live now is gone, In Stanhope-mews Dennett keeps horses ; Doctor Lozo lives in High-street, St. Mary-le-bone, In Brown-sireet one Johnny White's door sees. But still much more curious it is, when the streets Accord with the names of their ten- ants ; And yet with such curious accordance one meets In taking a town-tour like Pennant's. For instance, iu Crozoi-street, George King you may note, To Booth, in May-lair, you go shopping; And Porter, of i>reri^; - -street, goes in a boat To Waters, of River-street, Wap- ping. Mr. Sparrow in Bird-street has fea- thered his nest, Mr. Archer in jfcfczr-street w t oos Sally; Mr. Windham, in ^zr-street gets ze- phyred to rest, Mr. Dancer resides in JB«//-alley. Mr. Fisher on Finsburp fixes his views Mrs. Foote in Shoe-lane works at carding ; Mr. Ilazcke has a residence close to the Mews, And Winter puts up in Spring gar- dens. In Orange-stret Lemon vends porter and ale, In FZar^-street, Jack Deer keeps a stable ; In Hill-street, located, j'ou'll find Mr. Dale, In Blue Anchor-row, Mr. Calle. In Knight Eider-street you've both Walker and Day, In Castle-street, Champion and Spearman ; In Blackma?i-street, Lilyzchite makes a display, In Cheapside lives sweet Mrs. Dear- man. In Paradise-row, Mr. Adam sells figs, Eve in Apple-tree-yard rooms has taken ; Mr Colt-man, in Foley-street, fits you with wigs, In Hog-lane you call upon Bzcon. Old Homer, in Greek-street, sells bar- rells and staves, While Pope, in Cross-lane, is a baker ; In Liquorpond-street, Mr. Drinkwater shaves, In Cow-lane lives A. Veal, under- taker ! My jumbles and jingles I've now written down, 180 COMIC SONGS. But if for their meaning you teaze me — That they really have none, 1 must candidly own, And silence will, therefore, best please me. If not witty or curious, they'll answer 1 ween, To get me " asked out''' by great ninnie3 — And out of the firm of some new ma- gazine Procure me a couple of gumeas. TROTTING ALONG THE ROAD, GAFFER, Grist, Gaffer's son, and his little Jack-ass, Trotting along the road, Through a gossiping straggling village must pass, Before they could reach their a- bode. Master Johnny rode Jackey, which old Gaffer led : The villagers thought the boy mon- strous ill-bred, So they made honest Gaffer get up in his stead, Trotting along the road. They didn't go far, ere they Heard people talk, Trotting along the road. As how it was stupid for either to walk, Before they could reach their a- bode, So they both rode, when, proud of his horse and his pelf, A farmer cries, " Down? would you kill the poor elf? " If you was an ass would you like it yourself?" Trotting along the road. Next they carried the Jack-ass, who never said nay, Trotting along the road, But all changes endured, like the Vi- car of Bray. Before he would quit his abode. Yet e'en this wouldn't please every ill-natured tyke, And, therefore, this moral must forci- bly strike, We should manage our Jack-asses just as we like, While trotting along the road. SAID A STEAK TO A CHOP, A PARODY. AlR. — Said a Smile to a Tear. SAID a steak to a chop, On a hook in my shop, In the dog-days and very hot wea- ther, Dear chop, it is clear, If we long tarry here, We shall certainly melt both together. Said the chop from the chump, To the steak from the rump, Unless there's a change in the wea- ther, Lovely steak, I agree, In a mess we shall be, And of kitchen stuff made both toge ther. Oh, then with a sigh, Midst sweet sound " what d'ye buy *" Said the steak to the chop, with emo- tion, A long or short six, In some saveall to fix, Will at last be our doom, I've a no- tion. I'M VERY WELL INDEED WITHOUT A WIFE, I KNOW. Air. — Pretty Peggy of Derby. SINGLE poets, at their ease, May persuade us, if they please, There's no blessing like the joys of married life below ; But for me, I freely own, I'm for letting well alone, And I'm very well indeed without a wife, I know, My nephew '11 vow and swear 1 hat your daughter's good and fair : May be so, but she's a woman, ana an evil, too : 'Tis very plain to me, That an angel she may be : But 'tis plainer still your wife's a ve- ry devil, oh ! Then take a fool's advice, And don't be over nice, But when your wife for scolding finds pretences, oh? Take the handle of a broom, Not much thicker than your thumb, And thwack her till you bring toer to her senses, oh ; 181 COMIC SONGS. THE WAGGONER. WHEN I comes to town with a load of hay, Meanly and lowly though I seem, I know pretty well how they figure away, While 1 whistles and drives my team ! Your natty sparky and flashy dames, How do I love to queer ! I run my rigs, And patters, and gigs And plays a hundred comical games To all that I comes near ; Then, in a pet, To hear 'em fret, A mobbing away they go ; — The scoundrel deserves to be horse- whip t. Who, me, ma'am \ Wo, Ball, wo ! So to mind them I ne'er seem, But whistles and drives my team. So as I seems thinking of nothing at all, And driving as fast as I can, 1 pins a queer thing against the wall, Half a monkey and half a man ! The mob came round him to put up his blood, While he's trembling from top to toe, My whip it goes spank, 1 tips Ball on the flank, Ball plunges, and paints him all over with mud, Queers his stockings, and spoils the beau ! Then, the sweet, pretty dear ! Ah, could you but hear : — " Ods, curse, I'll make you know, you infernal villain." ** Lord bless your baby face, I would not hurt 3'our spindle shanks for the world !" Wo, Ball, wo, &c. And so I gets the finest fun And frisk that ever you saw ; Of all I meets 1 can queer every one But you gemmen of the law % Though they can scarcely put me down, Says I, to their courts when I'm led, Where their tales of a pig They hide with a wig ! How many ways, in London town, They dresses up a calf's head ! Then every dunce To hear open at once, Like mill-clack their clappers go ! — " O, that's the fellow I saw grinning through the horse-collar in the country!" " I fancy, you are the fellow I saw grinning through the pillory in London 1" Wo, Ball, wo, &c. DAY AND NIGHT SCENES IN LONDON. Air. — The Bold Dragoon. SINCE Life ki London's all the go, I'll tell you, if I may, My own few scenes of bliss and wo, I've been in night and day. From public-house to coffee shop, To watch-house, free and easy ; At nothing now you'll find me stop, Since, if I can, I'll please ye ! With my comic tale, Mill and bail, The Compter and Guildhall, sirs! Since I have had some comic scenes* Egad ! I'll sing them all, sir ; With my bow, wow, what a row ! fal lal de riddy, riddy, sparkey, larkey, funny, dunny, quizzy, dizzy, O, The other morn, I rose from bed, And walked into the street, When Natty Bill, with bushy head, So swellish, I did meet : He cut along through Bishopsgate, And no poor chap felt bolder ; But, Lord ! his courage soon was cooled, For a bun split on his shoulder. With bailiff's tale, Bill and bail, Tapping, slapping, call, sirs. Since 1 have had some comic scenes, Egad ! I'll sing them all, sirs. "W ith my bow, wow, &c. Another day, I had a coach, To ride to the West End, To have a game at billiards. And dine with Dick, my friend ; But, having left the chink behind, The coachman, rude and rough, sir, Just broke my nose, and then he said, You find I'm up to snuff, sir. With his crack and smack. My nose, alack, R 182 COMIC SONGS. He broke, and my shirt did maul, sirs ; Since 1 have had some comic scenes, Egad ! I'll sing them all, sirs. With my bow, wow, &c. Now, free and easy being gay, I went one night with glee ; I drank, and all my cash did pay, Then who so drunk as me 1 But as I walked along so grand, As shop-boy folk did book me ; And the watchman must have thought the same, For he to the Compter took me ! With his swoid-stick, Cross as N ick. The Compter beds are small, sirs! Since I have had some comic scenes, Egad ! I'll sing them all, sirs. With my bow, wow, &c. Next morning, I was sent away ; But mark the climax now, — Some cruel things my wile did say, And kicked up such a row ! She says I am a wicked man, And she loses all our charms, So with her nails she claws my face, And gives me her coat of arms. With her pouting lips, "Warm tear drips, We kiss, then on necks fall, sirs. Since 1 have had some comic scenes, Egad! I'll sing them all, sirs. With my bow, wow, &c. MISS M'CANN. Air. — The bold Dragoon. A MAIDEN sure there was, she was ugby, old, and tough, But lovers she found plentiful, because she had the stuff. With her leering, sneering, Lovers queering, Och ! she could be sporting some, For, ev'ry afternoon, To her levee they would courting come, With a whack, low de dow, de dow, Fal, lal, de riddy, iddy, Whack, row de dow, de dow, Fal, de ral, de ra. An alderman came first, like a turtle^ I declare ; If she had married him, there would of turtles be a pair, With his waddle, twaddle, Empty noddle, Belly round, and wig so spruce, sir; But she told him soon, All he could do would be of no use, sir, With his whack, &c. An attorney, too, there was — with him the cash ran shy, He came to Hymen's court, he said, with her a cause to try ; With his smirks and je>k's, His flaws and quirks, She never had confuted him ; But the cause was ended soon, And Miss M'Canu non-suited him. With his whack, &c. The next that came a courting to the lovely Miss M'Cann, Was a foreign music-master, sure, but he was not her man, With his shaking, quaking, Ballad-making, His fiddle-stick, and music-paper; " Och !" says she, " you re out of tune ; So, get along, you catgut-scraper ! With your whack, &c. But the boy that won her heart, you soon shall understand, An Irishman lie was, with his shelle- lagh in his hand, With whiskey, friskey, All so brisk-e, " Gramachree" did sing so sweetly, That to church he led her soon, And her money-bags he rummaged neatly. , „ With his whack, &c. THE CAT'S SERENADE. AlR.— The young Map-Moon. THE lamps are faintly gleaming, love, '. The thief on his walk is scheming, love ! And it's sweet to crawl O'er the dead wall, While the tabbies are gently scream- ing, love, COMIC SONGS. 183 Then put out one paw so white, my dear, The house-tops are covered with light, my dear. Through the day, at our ease, "We'll sleep when we please, And we'll ramble abroad through the night, my dear. Now all the world is sleeping, love 1 But the bulky his night-watch keeping, love ! And I who wait, On this cold, cold slate, While you're at the mouse-hole peep- ing, love ! Then, awake, till rise of sun, my dear, And we'll have the devil's own fun, my dear ; For if you look shy, Faith it's all in my eye, For away with another I'll run, my dear. CHRISTMAS NUPTIALS. Air. — Old Air in the GentleShepherd. (With recitations, originally added by E. J. B. Box.) TWAS on Christmas-day Father he did wed, Three months after that My mother was brought to bed ; Father he came home, His head with liquor stored, And found in mother's room, A silver-hilted sword. Spoken.] That was a pointed thing, you know ; a pricking spur to the sides of suspicion ; and, although he was a patient man as any of his clan, fcis patience was agitated as on that point he coagitated ; and very natu- rally too ; for what could he do 1 the sight of that was quite enough to put any patient man's x^atience into a vio- lent-distressingly hurricaneous sort of a Fiddle de diddle de dum, Te dum ti deedle dee ; Tiddle de riddle de rum, Be rump ti reedie ree ; How came this sword here ''. Mother says, says she, " Lovee, 'tis a poker Auntee sent to me." Father he stamped and stared : 'Twas the first, Iween, Silver-hilted poker He had ever seen. Spoken.] Now, that being the case, and seeing it in that place, before his face, he was puzzled to trace any thing but disgrace in such a tool; for he was no fool, and 'twas always his ■rule, when he couldn't be cool, to stir up the fire of his rage till it burst out in a blaze of Fiddle de diddle de dum, &c. Father grumbled on ; But getting into bed, As the luck fell out, A man popped up his head !--[" Eh ! whafs that ?"] " That's my milk-maid," says she. Says dad, " I never heard, In all my travels yet, A milk-maid wore a beard!'* Spoken.'] Nor do I suppose he had ; for, though he was my dad, he was a clever old lad ; a man of bright parts and shining qualities, and a very great philosopher too, for he was the first who had skill and science enough in mathematics to find out and establish decisively the real right angle of the genuine geometrical Fiddle de diddle de dum. &c. Father found a whip, And very glad was he. " How came this whip here. Without the leave of me ?"— [ That whip I] " Oh ! that's my nice stay-lace My auntee sent to me. Then father he laced his stays, And out of doors went she. Spoken.'] That settled all, and brought every thing to the point : she was a good sort of woman, though she was my mother ; she knew it was her duty to love, honour, and obey ; so the de- vil a word did she say, but hopped away, as frisky and gay, and full of play, as if it had been day, in the month of May, singing- Fiddle de diddle de dum, fin*. R2 184 COMIC SONGS. THE PERPETUAL MOTION. Air. — Darby Kelly, WHEN first I went, On courtship bent, To a court a girl so witty, O ! I thought her smart, She won my heart, And was so devilish pretty, O ! We soon were wed, And put to bed, I paid her strict devotion, O ! But her tongue I found, The whole year round, Was the perpetual motion, O ! With click, click, clack, Her voice alack ! Like squalls upon the ocean, O ! Both day and night Would me affright, For I found perpetual motion, O ! If I staid out, You need not doubt, Her lungs were ripe for action, O ! She d squall and bawl, Then names she'd call, And seemed to like detraction, O ! Her voice it rose, Then, heaven knows, From words her blows would follow, She'd never tire, But vent her ire, And make me hoop and hollo, O ! With click, clack, &c. But now once more, My heart is sore, She's gone, and left me easy, O ! y But I again Have sought out pain, For another's come to teaze me, O ! I little knew The sex all through 6 Of talking had the notion, Oj But upon my life, My second wife, Keeps up perpetual motion, O ! With click, clack, &c. MR. SNIP AND MRS. O'DIP. Air.— Molly GPRigge. In the Strand lived a tailor named Snip, To Gretna he longed for a trip ; For he was in love, Head and ears far above, With the remnant of Mrs. O'Dip ; A rare beauty was Mrs. O'Dip. He a note sent to Mrs. O'Dip, Saying — " Pray, my dear ma'am, come and sip, In my parlour, your tea, For I'll give you bohea As fine as e'er touched lady's lip ; O, pray, come, my dear Mrs. Dip." At six o'clock came Mrs. Dip, (But she first took a draught of good flip;) Mr. Snip was so smart He soon cabbaged the heart Of amorous Mrs. O'Dip ; How wastly purlite was poor Snip ! To church soon away they did trip, But the bride gave the bridegroom the slip ; For, five minutes before They had reached the church-door, She eloped with a four-in-hand whip ; What a false-hearted Mrs. O'Dip ! Let her go, for who cares 1 said poor Snip, Things oft hap 'twixt the cup and the lip: I'll go home, eat my mutton, And not care a button For faithless Mrs. O'Dip : Good bye to you Mrs. 0*Dip. A HUNGRY FOX ONE DAY DID SPY. A hungry fox one did spy, Fal lal la, &c. Some nice ripe grapes, which hung so high, Fal lal la, &c. And, as they hung, they seemed to say To him who underneath did stay, If you can take me down you may. Fal lal la, &c. The fox his patience nearly lost, Fal lal la, &c. His expectations balked and crossed, Fal lal la, &c Still licked his chops for near an hour, Till he found the fruit beyond his power, Then he went, and swore the grapes were sour. Fal lal la, &c. COMIC SONGS. 185 THE FAIR. WOULD ye see the world in little, Ye curious, here repair, We'll suit you to a tittle At this our rustic fair ; We've glitt'ring baits to catch you, As tempting as at court, With whim for whim we'll catch you, And give you sport for sport. From a sceptre to a rattle, We've every thing in tops For infants that scarce prattle To men who still are boys. Cock-horses and stage-coaches In gingerbread are sold ; Cakes, parliament, gilt watches, And horns all tipt with gold. Then, if for fine parade you go, Come here, and see our puppet- show. Spoken.'] Walk in here, ladies and gentlemen, here you may see the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon, in all his glory ! You think that that figure's all alive, but he's no more alive than I am ! While the pipes and tabor rend the air, Haste, neighbours, to the fair. What's your sweepstakes and your races, And all your fighting cocks, To our horse-collar grimaces And girls that run for smocks. Our hobs can snivle noses, At single-stick who fight As well as your Mendozas, Though not quite so polite. In their deception neater Are your keen rooks allowed Than is yon fire eater, Who queers the gaping crowd. Then, boast not tricks so noxious That genteel life bespeak, Our jugglers, hixious-doxious, Shall distance every Greek. Can Pharaoh and his host be found To match our nimble merry-go-round 1 Spoken.] Put in here ! put in ! put in ! every blank a prize ! down with it, and double it, twenty can play as weld as one. While the pipes, &c. Hear yon mountebank assure ye Of diseases by the score A single dose shall cure ye ; Can Warwick-lane do more 1 Vid virligigs, tetotums, Yon Jew-imposhing faish Shall cheat you here in no times All one as in Duke's place. Hark, yonder making merry, Full many a happy clown For champagn who drinks perry As good as that in town. Then, for sights we've apes and mon- keys, Some on four legs, some on two , Tall women, dwarfs, cropt donkeys, For all the world like you. Then, would ye Ranelagh find out. What think ye of our roundabout 1 Spoken.] Walk in, ladies and gen- tlemen ! the only booth in the fair ' here ye may make the whole tour of the world ' would ye ride in the Ca- raven, the Expedition, the Land Fri- gate, or the Dilly ! fourteen miles in fifteen hours, ladies and gentlemen ! While the pipes, &c. A TRIP TO BATH WHEN winter is over, And summer brings clover, From the George and Blue Boar, Where the coach starts at four, The wits and the cits Take their pleasuring fits, And hasten to Bath in a hurry ; Crammed snug in their places, As horses in traces, While wheels loudly rattle, And passengers tattle, The ladies they handle Snuff, cordials, and scandle, And all is noise, hurry flurry. Spoken^] Now, then, are you all ready 1 No, Mr. Coachman,. I'm not. Make haste, ma'am. — I vas afraid you vas gone vithoutme. — No, ma'am 1 took steps to prevent that. — You'd better give me the steps, young mah, and leave 'em alone.— Dear me! I shan]t relish travelling in this manner, this fat lady leaning upon me wo'n't make me any cooler. — When you're quite done with my back, ma'am, I'll R3 186 COMIC SONGS. trouble you for it. — Dear me, how troublesome this gentleman's feet are, — Well, the coachman doesn't seem ready to start ; I think I shall get out and stretch my legs a little. — O, for heaven's sake, don't do that, for they're quite long enough already. — La look through the windor at that creature, how she's dished up. — what a spec- tacle ! Yes, ma'am, and if you was there, there would be a pair of spec- tacles. — Now, then, are you all right? — Why, we were all right before. — Well, are you all right behind, — ya hip. Hurry skurry, flight and flurry, rat- tle tattle, on we drive, — For Bath is the region to keep soul aud body alive. After stretching and yawning, Till twelve in the morning, The folks move their pins, And their dear joys begin ; To the pump-room we haste, The waters to taste, And to meet Messrs. Bob-tail and Tag-rag. Then the libraries at two Sport their raffles and loo, "Where we lose, all so funny, Our tempers and money ; "When, to wind up the day, The assemblies, so gay, Give their cards, cakes, their dancing, and scan-mag, Spoken.'] Well, here we are, all safe arrived at Bath. — D — n Bath, 1 was mad to come to Bath. — Then you're come to get your head shaved, I suppose. — You puppy, you've no head to shave.— No, I'm a Whig. — Ton my soul, this pump-room is an uncommon fine place. — I say, there's old Suet, the butcher, playing cards. — How are you, Suet"? — What are stakes 1 Best rump, are a shilling ; chuck, tenpence halfpenny. — I say, Tom, there's a fine girl. — I'll have a dance. — Tom, Tom, I wish you would not be so droll. — Droll ! what d'ye mean 1 I wish you'd keep your fun- ny-bone out of my ribs. — Come, strike up ; let's have the Bath waltz. Hurry skurry. &c. WHEN YOU'RE AT ROME BE A ROMAN. I WAS born one day, In the middle of May, When the lambs skip and play, And the trees look so gay, And my mother was a Sabine woman, As I lay on her lap, My mouth used to gap, So she fed me with pap, 'Till I sunk in a nap, And my daddy he called me a rum one. Then 1 grew stout and strong, Very often went wrong, The pretty girls among. Till they dragged me along. And said for a soldier you must go, man; While my comrades were slain, I a prisoner was ta'en, Which saved me much pain, So I sung the old strain, Of ' When you're at Rome be a Roman.' Spoken.] Yes, that's the best philo- sophy, put the best face upon every thing ; it's true I am but a serving man here, but then I'm better off than I was, and he that serves- to-day, may be served to-morrow. The way to obtain distinction is to be accommo- dating ; if a great man says, the north wind is south, acknowledge it — if a pretty girl says her eyes are diamonds, swear it — that's the way to get on — accomodate yourself to circumstances, and 'tis ten to one but your own cir- cumstances will feel the accommoda- tion. Yes, natter the proud, To the deaf talk loud, Let the rich be well bowed And the pretty well vowed, And when you're at Rome be a Ro- man. And now I'm in love, With as pretty a dove, As e'er came from above, And full soon we shad prove All the joys that a married pair may ; Our wedding shall bring, All our friends in a string. And we'll dance and we'll sing, And we'll fit on the ring, And we'll frolic and frisk it and play ; COMIC SONGS. 187 But e'er that takes place, We must say a little grace, For to save a wry face, Some cash in the case, Is wanted the piper to pay. But, lord, 1 don't fret, There is time enough yet, For me and my pet, Twenty children to get, t For ' Rome was not built in a day.' Spoken."] Now, " it's an ill wind that blows nobody good," the day that made my young master a mar- ried man, made me a f reed-man — there's a wide difference — however, I'm content ; and if I can but contrive to please my friends, it's all 1 hope for. and it ought to be the hope of all — down with ambition — put pride in the stocks, and let modest merit pros- per — this is philosophy. So I very seldom mope, But live in just hope, That soon without trope, With the greatest I may cope, For ' Rome was not built in a day.' A NEW LADIES' DRINKING SONG. AlB.— Nothing in Life can sadden us. OH ! ladies, these men are enough to madden us ; They teaze and perplex us with vows o'er and o'er ; And though a true lover's sweet vows may oft gladden us, Still, what do we want, pray, with near half a score 1 Come, come, are ye ready, fill out the bohea to us, Hand round the toast, and let sor- row ne'er balk The pleasure derived from a sweet cup of tea to us, Which gives a new zest as we laugh and we talk. Spoken.] Happy to see you, Miss Mumps ; may 1 be so bold as to ask the health of your intended 1 Dear me, ma'am, you really put me to the blush, for I have no intended, I assure you. Sweet susceptible creature ; then, perhaps, you are privately mar- ried'? Dear me! la, ma'am! good gracious ! no ! There, Mrs. Jaundice did you mark her? No, madam; but I remarked her. Why, when you only mentioned her intended, she blushed. Yes, and that's a most con- clusive sign of guilt, for blushing is too much out of fashion in the present day, without a very sufficient reason for it. But when you asked her whe- ther she was married, madam, really her confusion was insupportable. Very unnatural, indeed ; there's some- thing wrong in Miss Mump's case, I'll be sworn. Is your tea to your liking, Mrs. Starch? Uncommonly good, thankee, ma'am ; it's the best thing the grocer keeps in his house ; for they say, Mrs. Teadust is only a so so kind of a woman. A little milk for Mrs. Sneei . Then, between you and me, I'd advise her to get a little of the milk of human kindness. A small piece of sugar for Miss Gall. He ! he ! she certainly does want a little sweet to her bitters. Yes ; and, by-the-by, they say she's very fond of taking something else in her bitters t too. Fy ! fy ! let us leave the ladies alone, I beg, and Oh ! bothera- tion, it's impossible to leave the ladies alone, when they're in their own sweet company, Sing to the gents how we scorn them and fiont 'em ; 'Twas always the same since poor woman began : And though the dear creatures we can't do without 'em, We teaze and perplex 'em as much as w T e can. What think you of Edward ? Dear me ! he's a rover, Who swears the same thing to each female he meets ; And then Captain George is a general lover ; If a girl is quite sour, why he vows she's all sweets. And then there's vain Robert, his nonsense addressing ; If you smile at his tolly, he'll think you're in love : While Richard declares that the girls are a blessing, And still says in secret,— an evil they prove. 188 COMIC SONGS. Spoken.] How is your mother, miss 1 She enjoys a very bad state of health, I thank you, madam. No occasion to thank me, I assure you, for 1 don't envy her enjoyment. Have you heard the news f No; what is it? Why I'll tell you a great secret; Miss Bloomly, you know, that paints so abominably, says, that Mrs. Ogle, who wears the glass eye, told her that Miss Queerface, with the false hair, informed her that Mrs. Drowsy, who spends all her nights at the gaming- table, told her that her little girl saw Mrs. Eednose go out this morning with a gentleman. Dear me ! what a shame it is to scandalise so. Why, do you know, madam, that the propa- gator of the story is guilty of every vice you mention, herself, and was seen by nearly twenty people, to go out with a gentleman, and in the open night-time. Good gracious! how shameful it is to take away people's characters, to be sure. Why, what's that old lady laughing at in the cor- ner 1 Why, ma'arn, if you must know it's at your very nice nice notions of character. And pray, ma'am, what is your opinion or it, then 1 1 consi- der character as a plaything, invented to amuse a female party, where the poor creature is so mutilated, that, perhaps, she never recovers from the ill usage of one evening, and leaves many a virtuous mind to pine in misery, through the false imagina- tions of a weak heart and a jaun- diced imagination. Dear me ! why 1 think we had better Sing to the gents, &c. DOCTOR MONRO. Air. — Humours o'Glen. ' DEAR Doctor, be clever, and fling off your beaver, Come, bleed me, and blister me, do not be slow ; I'm sick, I'm exhausted, my schemes they are blasted, And all driven heels-o'er-head, Doctor Monro.' * Be patient, dear fellow, you foster your fever ; Pray, whafs the misfortune that bo- thers you so V ' O, doctor ! I'm ruined ! I'm ruined for ever ! My lass has forsaken me, Doctor Monro. • I meant to have married, and tasted the pleasures, The sweets, the enjoyments, in wed- lock that flow ; But she's ta'en another, and broken my measures, And fairly confounded me, Doctor Monro.' ' I'll bleed and I'll blister you, over and over ; I'll master your malady ere that I go; But raise up your head from below the bed-cover, And give some attention to Doctor Monro. ' If Christy had wed you, she would have misled you, And laughed at your love with some handsome young beau : Her conduct will prove it ; but how would you love it?' * I soon would have lamed her, dear Doctor Monro.' ' Each year brings a pretty young son or a daughter ; Perhaps you're the father, but how shall you know 1 You hug them — her gallant is burst- ing with laughter' — ' 1 hat thought's like to murder me, Doctor Monro.' ' The boys cost you many a penny and shilling; You breed them with pleasure, with trouble and wo : But one turns a rake, and another a villain.' — ' My heart could not bear it, dear Doctor Monro.' ' The lasses are comely, and dear to your bosom ; But virtue and beauty has many a foe! O, think what may happen ;jru>t nipt in their blossom!' — ' Ah, merciful Heaven ! cease, Doc- tor Monro. COMIC SONGS. 189 * Dear Doctor, I'll thank you to hand me my breeches ; I'm better ; I'll drink with you ere that you go ; I'll never more sicken for women or riches, But love my relations and Doctor Monro. I plainly perceive, were I wedded to Christy, My peace and my pleasures I needs must fore-go.' He still lives a bachelor; drinks when he's thirsty ; And sings like a lark, and loves Doctor Monro. JERRY'S BATCH OF CAKES. AlR.-r-Ifi ? to Kate. HERE am I so gay, I hope to make you merry ; Here are cakes, come, buy away, en- courage little Jerry ; The world, you will agree, of things that's strange partakes, sir, "We're all one family, and all like dif- ferent cakes, sir. Spoken.'] To be sure ; there are your hot cakes and your cold cakes, your flat cakes and your sharp cakes, your dry cakes and your shy cakes, your biscuits and your any cakes — for my part, 1 recommend every one of you to Buy nice cakes 1 sell, they're genuine I'm sartin, But, if the truth I tell, it's all my eye and Peggy Martin. A coxcomb's head is chaff, like mould- crust, wo'n't bake ? sir, Too puffy he's by half, and therefore called a cake, sir ; While the miser, lack-a-day, 's a gripe- cake, you may trust, sir, And the best that you can say, he's but a mouldy crust, sir. Spoken.'] 1 met a miser the other day — Hark'e, fellow, says he, are your cakes made of the best flour 1 O, yes, upon my honour, sir, says I. D — n your honour, says he, when I was in trade I had no honour. Egad. he had me there ; however, I advised him to Buy a nice queen-cake, they're ge- nuine, I'm sartin, But, if honour is the stake, it's all my eye and Peggy Martin. A sailor, like a tea-cake, is moulded, of the best, sir ; A bailiff, like a sea-cake, is d — d hard to digest, sir ; The doctor is an ill cake, sure you will agree, sir, And, if he gives a pill-cake, he pock- ets snug his fee, sir. Spoken.] A German doctor came to attend my wife when she wasdy ing. Oh, oh ! says he, dis very bad country for de health, de people do die very fast here. Says 1, Doctor, I'll be very much obliged to you to tell me the country where the people do not die, and I'll go there and end my days. 'Gad, I had him there ! Come, said 1, Doctor, and Buy my cakes so fine, my wife's dead I'm sartin, For her to grieve or pine : is all my eye and Peggy Ma r tin ! A prude, you know's a dry cake, nei- ther bitter, sour, nor sweet ; A coquette we'll call a sly cake, that none would wish to eat ; A soldier is a rum cake, who frightens well our foes, sir, And pretty miss a plum-cake, a bnde-cake, we all know, sir .] Few females, I fancy, but what are fond of a bride-cake, though they all declare, O dear, don't talk to me about husbands, I hate the nasty men, I'm resolved I'll never be married ! — Till somebody asks you, said I. That's right, miss, take my ad- vice, and Bride-cake buy again, of this I'm sure and sartin. If you say you hate the men, it's all my eye and Peggy Martin ! A lover is a lean cake, softened by his fair, sir ; And beauty is a queen-cake, that drives him to despair, sir ; Of spices made so pat, a lawyer is a ban cake, His client is the flat, and therefore like a pancake. 190 COMIC SONGS. Spoken.'] The law always bothers me, for it puts me in mind of a coffin, if once you get in you never get out again : therefore, sooner than meddle or make, I would advise you to Buy nice cakes, and regale — of this I'm sure and sartin, If lawyers tell a tale, it's all my eye and Peggy Martin. Now, to sum up all my cakes, and make 'em in one batch, sir, May the devil, that hard cake, mono- poly, once catch, sir, In his oven, warm and deep, may he be baked secure, sir ; Whilst the wheat-cake may grow cheap, for to benefit the poor, sir. Spoken.) And there's not the least doubt of it, as we keep unanimous at home ; and, should our enemies choose to be troublesome, why, I'll tell 'em this — Our soldiers would take heart, and our seamen, t*oo, I'm sartin. Would tell our enemies it's all my eye and Peggy Martin ! JERRY'S RAMBLE TO TOWN. YOUR sarvant, I'm come to relate Of my rambles among the fine sights ; I took leave of my sweetheart Kate, And in town thought to meet with delights ; Thinks I, now I'm come to this place, I'll see all that is handsome and rare, But the folks crowd as if 'twas a race, Or at wonders was running to stare. Spoken.] Well, thinks I, I'll be darn sorry if this an't worse than being at home working, though 1 have plenty to do there, 'tis true, because i'm a kind of all-works like ; I sow the corn, go to plough or harrow, fetch the cows, clean the pig-styes out, work in the garden, thrash, chop wood, go to market along with our Mary, tetch water, help churn, and ringle the old sows, so I come here for a little pleasure ; but if they call it pleasure to be crowded and pushed, and thumpt, and bumpt, and lunipt about among all these here people, the devil take such pleasure, 1 say for 1 have had no more peace than ' toad under a harrow all day. Tol de rol, lol de rol, &c. Thinks I, I, at home or abroad, v To no one bear animosities, So I'll just see what I can learn Among wonderful fine curiosities ; I'll tell it out when I go back Among all my friends and their spouses, That the streets on both sides were bedecked With such nation kits of great houses. Spoken.] Yes, there was such a raft of great overgrown houses and fine sights, that I really thought I had got into another world, and the people came swarming down the streets like bees in a hot summer's day ; one fine cockney-looking gentleman axed me what it was o'clock ? why, sir, says I, I can't tell ; why not, says he, haven't you got a watch with you 1 Yes, sir, said I, and mean to keep it, for I have sewed it fast in my pocket. Tol de rol, lol de rol, &c. One evening I met in my way, As in the streets a musing 1 walked, A lady so handsome and gay, And most charming she chattered and talked ; She axed me if I'd see her home, Her way being lonesome and dreary, Says she, sir, I can't go alone, Odd zounds ! thinks I, now here's a query. Spoken.] I was rather queered to be sure ; but, however, thinks I, if I am to be robbed, stripped, and mur- dered, it will only be the death of me that's all, so 1 went home with her, and she kept talking so fast that I had not room to say a word all the time ; at last we came to her house and went in, so she told me to sit down, while she fetched me something to drink : so after she was gone, I looked all round the room, presently I heard a devil of a noise and fighting upstairs, so I scrambled out of the window ana ran away as fast as ever 1 could ; and as I was looking behind me, I ran COMIC SONGS. 191 slap up against an old watchman, and knocked him down sprawling. Tol de rol, lol de rol, &c. The devil, thinks I, 's in this town, And 1 must look after my stops, So I'll just take a rove up and down, To see what they sell in the shops ; Then I heard the folks talk ot the play, So I posted toward it with speed, And that night was to be, I heard say, Some devilish keen acting indeed. Spoken.'] I got carried in with the crowd, and then I paid a shilling to a man what set in a cupboard like, then I went up stairs, very near se- venteen story high, and I fancy I did look about me a little matter to think where I could have got to, for with the music, singing, dancing, and fine sights altogether, I was quite struck comical ; but I was devilish glad to get out again, for they squeezed me very near as fiat as an old shilling, and I was just a little matter glad to get home in the country again, for if 1 had staid there much longer, I should have been stilled, smothered, and smoke dried like a red herring. Tol de rol, lol de rol, &c. THE OLD MAID AND THE TOM-CAT. AlR. — A Frog he would a-xvooing go. AN old maid sat by the fire-side, Heigho ! poor Tommy ! To her nose her snuff-box she often applied, The better to think what was best to decide Eor a rumbling, grumbling, jalap- and jaundice-fit ; Heigho ! in grief for poor Tommy ! Poor Tommy was sick, she could not tell how ; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! So she gave "him some milk, quite warm from the cow, But that made him worse, and he kicked up a row. With his rumbling, grumbling, &x. While she wept from her heart, and hung down her head ; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! On the hearth, with her pillow, she made him a bed, With a napkin then b und up the poultice she made, For his rumbling, grumbling, &c. Tom* urged by his gripes to struggle and stretch, Heigho ! poor Tommy ! " Lord bless me !" cried she, " I'm an unhappy wretch ! Oh, what shall I do? I the doctor must fetch To your rumbling, grumbling,"&c. Off she went, in a fright, and soon Doctor Snob came ; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! Who, for feline disease, had acquired great fame, Cried he, " soon this bowel-commo- tion we'll tame, With my rumbling, grumbling, ja- lap-and-jaundice-pills," &c. " Don't weep, miss !" said he, " I am up to such sights ;" Heigho ! poor Tommy ! " 'Tis the jaundice he's got in the welt of his lights. The in-sole of his thorax we'll soon put to rights, With my rumbling, grumbling, &c. As Tommy • refused to swallow the pill; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! The doctor used force, and, against Tommy's will, He blew the pills down through the hole of a quill, With a rumbling, grumbling, jalap- and-jaundice puff," &c. Lest the pills should too long in the thorax lurk ; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! He took up by the ear, and gave Tom- my a jerk, That, downwards, the quicker the physic might work, With its rumbling, grumbling, ja- lap-and-jaundice-cure, &c. Then, to comfort his stomach, miss fed him with pap ; Heigho ! poor Tommy ! Till (a some-how-or-other of ill ma- naged hap) Tom's comfort and cure tell into her lap, 192 COMIC SONGS. By a rumbling, grumbling, jalap- and-jaundice-chance ; Heigho ! relief for poor Tommy ! LONDON COMFORTS. Air — Teddy Blink and Bandy Jack. OH ! London's such a charming place 80 fine and so bewitching, That country lads all hither haste, and for its joys are itching, Papa and ma, good by ! they bawl, and off for London starting, Declare they think the country's all my eye and Betty Martin. Spoken.] Come, coachee, knock 'em along, my boy. How far to Lunnun Uow ? — Only five miles. — I say, Bill, iow d'ye like it ? — Oh, wastly much. — 1 say, how we spins along, don't we 1 eh, ah ! There's Lunnun ! I say, soachee, vat's that ere place like Q)e top of a lantern 1 — O, that's St. Paul's — St. Paul's ! I say, Ben, vat a rich man St. Paul must have been to nave such a precious great house, — Bless me, vat a smoke ! — 1 say, coach- man, put me down at Mr. Brisket's, tne butcher's, in Vitechapel, will you i — Yes, ma'am. I say, coachee, vere do ve stop at 1 — The Blue Boar, sir. — Vat a bore it vill be if they can't let us have a bed, eh, Ben 1 — Ees, I thinks as how ve shall look like blue boars then ; for ve may stop in the street all night, and amuse ourselves by hearing the vatchman bawl — Ri fol, &c. Their hands in both their pockets crammed, they gape about so silly, And then from side to side are jam- med, whilst rambling Piccadilly ! But now the rain begins to fall, while some for coaches bawling, "Whilst Ben upsets an apple-stall as he is backward falling. Spoken.] There, you stupid country fellow, you shall pay for my apples — 3 r ou capsized 'em all in the mud. — There, brother Ben, you've just got into it. — No, brother Bill, I be just fot out on't. Dang that there gutter, say. Look at my white corderays ; I'm just like a mudlark. — There, there's my best umbrelly spoilt : that gentleman has run the top of his'n smack through it.— Never mind, ma'am ; 'twill let in more air. — La, sir, I'm sure my mamma had airs enough before. — There, that fellow's splashed me from head to foot, 'pon honour. — Lud, papa, I've lost my shoe. — Shoo, shoo, come along-: come child, we'll go through Exeter 'Change we can't change for the worse. — Take care, sir, you'll push your numbrella into my hye. — That's all my eye, ma'am. — Oh, I've lost my patten. — That's a bad pattern to set. — My pe- lisse is wringing wet through, I wow and purtest. — Turn it on the other side, then, my darling, and put the dry side outwards. — Tell you what, sir, if you shoves me in that ere way again I shall be for giving you what you may call a — What, sir ? Ri fol, &c. And now a heavy fog arrives, just to increase vexation, While hurry skurry each one drives, and all is consternation ! Says brother Bill, — We've lost our way ! says Ben, — We're done for sartin : And both exclaim, in town to stay's my eye and Betty Martin. fgm. Spoken.] Bless my soul, says brother Ben, what a nation smoke! there must be a large fire somewhere. — Fire ! no, no, says brother Bill, I've just hit on't ! 'tis water ! they do every thing here by steam. — Blow me, if one of the hingines isn't burst, and we'll all be scalt to death. — Scaltoh, Lord, how shocking, cries brother Ben. — Terrible, says brother Bill. — A light, a light, light, d — me. — A man that would make light of this would make light of any misfortune. — Bless me, sir. how clumsy you are, you've run up against me, and knocked all my teeth down my throat. — Beg par- don, ma'am, — very sorry, — couldn't help it, — quite accidental. — By your leave — Take care of your heads. — Take care of your pockets. — Oh, my toes, my toes. — Put them in your re- ticule, ma'am. — I'll thank you not to ridicule my wife's toes, sir, if you please.-Why, here's quite a stoppage, I declare. — Go ; will you come %— Well, I'm going to come to go as COMIC s6ngs. 193 soon as I can. — Come, lather away, my boys, cries a barber. — Skip along, says a dancing-master. — Peg- along, my lads or" wax, cries a shoe-maker. — I declare, says a dandy, those men show their avocations by their vulgar confabulations, 'pon honour, d — me. You look as iryou were just taken off a shop-board as a pattern, cries a tai- lor ; stitched up, but not finished.— By the powers, the fog's so thick, and there's such a crowd, I'll just stand here till they're all gone by, and sing— Oh London is a famous place, So pleasant altogether, ■ But don't exactly suit my taste In wet and foggy weather. SADLER'S WELLS. Air. — Chapter of Kings. YOU ask for a song, and my muse it now dwells On a short but true hist'ry of famed Sadler's Wells ; What kings bore the sceptre, what monarchs held sway, Since the days when old Sadler him- self led the way. And, barring all pother, both one and the other Shall now learn who governed in turn. Certain Monks, we are told, for their shocking misdeeds, ' Went, from Clerkenwell, thither to count o'er their beads ; Then, in process of time, sucking beaux, infant belles, Went to take their souchong and hot rolls at the Wells. Then, barring ail pother, both one and the other Went to the tea-gardens in turn. Then Rosomon arose, and extended its fame, Rope-dancers from France and from Italy came ; Burlettas succeeded, and "veil, I opine, Pleased the cits in the pit as they tossed off their wine. So, barring all pother, the one and the other Succeeded to govern in turn. Tom King next appeared, and most mildly, all own, Swayed the sceptre, and graced with his wisdom the throne ; By all parties beloved, by his foes e'en admired, The vet'ran, 'midst plaudits and ho- nours retired. And, barring all pother, not one or the other- Has governed much better in turn. Dick Wroughton came next, and with- out saying grace. Of actors imported a four-footed race, Who brought their own music, their wardrobe, and togs, An active young troop of the French dancing-dogs. And, barring all pother, yet, some- how or other, They certainly drew in their turn. Stone-eaters and jugglers, of mon- strous renown, With la belle Espagnol, next attracted the town. Next year, hell broke loose, war and mutiny raged, For the Great Little Devil himself was engaged. And, barring all pother, my friend, Paulo's mother, And Lucifer, drew in their turn. With young Satan, for seasons, none e'er dared to cope, Such wonders he nightly performed on the rope ; Till Richer appeared, like a comet so bright, When His Highness the Devil sought refuge in flight. And, barring all pother, not one or the other Has danced half so well in his turn. But who was the next in the mana- ger's shoes 1 Be tender, dear sir, it was careful old Hughes ; But, peace to his soul, for it long since has fled, Good only, we know, should be spoke of the dead. Yet, barring all pother, 'tween one and the other, Dick long ruled the stage in his turn. S 194 COMIC SONG&. Attraction was wanted, the town to engage, So they emptied the river, its seems, on the stage ; The house overflowed, and became quite the ton, And the W ells, for some seasons, went swimingiy on. So, barring all pother, they some- how or other, For seasons went swimmingly on. That merry wag, Dibdin, then, next ruled the roast, Who the family genius and talent might boast ; Of frolic and fun Nature furnished a stock. And, truly, a chip he was of the old block. For, barring all pother, not one or the other Has managed much better in turn. Charles, in council, adopted their an- cestors' plan, Allowing a pint of old port to each , man : But, not like their ancestors, (morals were shrunk) Modern dandies each night in the boxes got drunk. And, barring all pother, each ma- nager-brother, Like the audience, got drunk in their turn. Next Joey Grim, came, though a host in himself, He couldn't make head 'gainst the time's want of pelf ; And Howard Payne tried, but his reign was cut short, For management wasn't at all Yan- Kee's forte. Yet, barring all pother, both one and the other Theatrical kings were in turn. N«xt Egerton rose, and dispelled the mist, Determined fresh troops with the old to enlist ; Who approved, one and all, when he opened his plan, And swore they would triumph or fall to a man. So, barring all pother, success to our brother, He'll wish us success in return.' Tom Dibdin now governs, success to his reign, And may he of his troops have no cause to complain ; May each season conclude thus se- renely and calm, And the Wells from all Minors yet bear off the palm. Then, barring all pother, each true and tried brother Will hail every Easter's return. THE CLOWN'S ODD SWEET- HEART. A COMICAL lass I went to woo. She had a good face and a fortune, too ; She had but one eye, one arm, and one leg, But a monstrous handsome wooden peg! Spoken.'] But the leg and the harm were two to one in my favour ; and the eye, you know, enabled me to get the blind side of her Fal de ral, &g She'd one golden guinea, une silver crown. One hat, one cap, one cloak, one gown, One table, one chair, one three-legged stool, One basin for holding gooseberry- fool ! Spoken.'] And I'm monstrous fond of that ; it's the pleasantest kind of fool there is ; — I wish I had a large basin full now, I would so — Fal de ral, &c. One kettle she had, without a spout, One saucepan with one bottom out ; One knife, fork, spoon, one dish, one plale, One ladle, with which she broke my pate! Spoken.] She wasn't content with making an impression upon my heart, but she must make one on my head too; and she did give me such a — Fal de ral, &c. COMIC SONGS. 195 PRETTY DEARY. ADOWN a green valley there lived an old maid, Who being past sixty her charms be- gan to fade, She of waiting for husbands was weary ; She was monstrously rich, that for me was enough, And sadly I wanted to finger the stuff, So says I, will you marry me, deary 1 Pretty deary ! O, la, fal, &c. Says she " you embarrass me, coming to woo," And she tried how to blush, but she blushed rather blue, For her cheeks of the roses were weary ; Says she, " I am told you're a sad little man, And cheat all the dear pretty girls that you can ;" Says I, " don't believe it, my deary !" Pretty deary ! O, la, fal, &c. She consented that I for the license should go, "When across her, mean time, came a tall Irish beau, "Who like me in pocket was peery ; Out of his calf's head such a sheep's eye threw he, That a queer little hop-o'-my-thumb she called, me, And he diddled me out of my deary ! Pretty deary ! O, la, fal, &c. FATHER MACSHANE. OLD father Macshane he was holy and fat, Sing farallal, &c. He sprinkled my forehead, and christ- ened me Pat ; . Sing farallal, &x. He said to my parents, — You ugly old pair, Arrah ! now could you get such a beautiful heir? With your chi chi, Sic. Then Father Macshane he took hold of my chin, Sing farallal, &c. And drank my success in a noggin of gin ; Sing farallal, &c. Moreover, he prophesied, certain as fate, If I lived to be big, I should be mighty great. With my chi chi, &c. One day, says my mother, (sure I was her joy,) Sing farallal, &c. My darling, you now are a hobblede hoy : Singfarallal, &c. To make a big fortune, Pat, seek out the way ; So at times I made love, and at times I made hay. With my chi chi, &c. Farewell to young maids, a rich old one appears, Sing farallal, &c. I must now be in love with a lady of years, Sing farallal, &c. Though elderly beauty is apt to be tough, Let it tender the cash, then it's ten- der enough. For my chi, chi, &:e. THE LIFE OF THE FANCY. Air. — Pleasures of Brighton. THEY may talk of the pleasure of concert and ball, But in these I no sort of fun can see; For who can compare the loud Opera squall, Or a trip down a dance, to the real trip and fall You receive from a lad of the fancy : If you'd quit plodding dullness, and true life would dash on, The Fives' Court — dear Fives' Court — is always the fashion ; Like lawyers, their arguments come pat and glib in, But, instead of cross-questions — cross buttocks and fibbing, Oh ' this is the life of the fancy. S2 196 COMIC SONGS. v************* Spoken.] Directly the Commissa- ry's oa the ground, all is expectation and buzz — the ground's roped in, and the rabble flogged out — hats thrown up in the ring, hands shaked ; seconds, bottie-holders, and umpire, all ready — Kneel down there, in the front row, hats~off. D — me, there they are at it. Two to one my man draws first blood, says the butcher. My eye says the baker, there's a hit in the bread-bas- ket. — Bravo, bravo — right and left — d — me, but his head's in chancery, cries a lawyer. — Bless me, cries a surveyor, he appears to have drawn his front railing, and closed up his day-lights. So much the better for him, he'll have to pay no window-tax. — I say, Vil, vat a vit, did you hear that? — Shall I trouble you, sir, to take your horse's toe off my heel ? — Take care of your pockets, — Ulloa, young man, pray take your hand out of my pocket.— 1 ax your pardon, governor, but the crowd was so great, I took your pocket for my own. — A rump and dozen the long one gives the nrst cross-buttock. — Done — Done, there he goes, with a back summerset over the ropes. — Why don't you put the bottle to his mouth 1 1 can't get it there, for his bottle-nose. — Time, time. — Oh ! he's got his belly-fuil — can't come — D — me ! how down in the mouth he looks,^Well he may look down, when it's all up with him. Then finished the battle, Away they all rattle ; The swell and the kiddy, For London make ready ; With grinning for winning, And walking and talking : Oh ! this is the life of the fancy. In his tandem, high-mounted, and snug, side by side, With his favourite Polly or Nancy, On the race-course at .Newmarket taking a ride, While the knowing-ones envy him, this is the pride, And the joy of a lad of the fancy : Oh ! who from the sports of the turf couldarefrain, Where the flats lose the money the knowing ones gain ; Where gaiety joined with equality cheers, Dukes jostle with dustmen — pick- pockets with peers : Oh ! this is the life of the fancy. Spoken.] Clear the course, there, don't you hear the first bell ? Yes, but you needn't clear off my pigeon- pie. — Oh ! never mind, there's plenty more pigeons here ; birds of a feather, you know. — Bless me, they're rather late to-day: will you imform me what's o'clock, sir, if you please ? — Sir, with the greatest of pleasure — devil burn me, but it's gone. I've lost my elegant stop-watch, — Stop-watch, yes, but it didn't stop with you. — I suspect that gentleman in white stock- ings is a black-leg. — Two to one the favourite against the field. — Who is the favourite? — Miss O'Neil ; she has topped Juliet and Belvidera, and proved herself equal to the best feats of Melpomene. — Hallo there, clear the course — all weighed and mounted — clear the course, ring the bell — off they go. Then hustle and bustle — hurry and skurry, Beating and cheating — swearing and tearing, Horses a-running — winners a-dun- ning, Jockeys are betting — money is get- ting : Oh ! these are the joys of a lad of the fancy. JEM VEST AND MRS. VATTS. JEM Vest, a tailor, spruce and neat, Right fol de riddle lol de la, Loved Mrs. Vatts, of Vindmill-street, Right fol, &c. Mrs. Vatts was crooked, had one eye, Vhile Jem's humped back stood all awry, One six toot, t'other three foot high, Right fol, &c. At making love he was no fool, Right fol, &c. He brought with him a three-legged stool; Right fol, &c. Cried Jem, because you sha'n't stoop down, I'll get on this ; but, with a frown COMIC SONGS 197 Stead of a kiss, she cracked his crown, Right fol, &c. He cast at her a voful leer, Right fol, &c. Cried he, you've broke my heart, my dear, Right fol, &c. Poor Vatts, you've cause to curse your luck, Ven to his heart his bodkin stuck ; Cried she, you've done it now, my buck ! Right fol, &c. Now, every night, when tailors meet, Right fol, &c. At the Cauliflower, in Vindmill-street, Right fol, (Sec. His ghost appears, and, with a vhine, Cries, think of Vest, who, in his prime, Vos got bv love into a line. Right fol, &c. THE WATCHMAN OF THE PARISH. AlR. — The Beadle of the Parish. I'M an old one on the town, That cry the hour around, And make rogues and thieves rather scarish : At night I raise the cry, I protect the sleeping eye. I guard each bolt and lock, As I cry past ten o'clock, Why, because I'm the watchman of the parish Starlight night, Moon shone bright, Reeling home, Drunkards come, Move along, Come, push on. Spoken.'] Come, walk on there, ma am, you mus'n't stand picking up your gemmen here ; my orders is to clear the streets : so push on, ma'am. —La ! cries the poor unfortunate, ar'n't you good-natured, old boy ? it's a cold night : what say you to a drop of precious? — Say, why it would be very much the thing : but I have one objection against the bribe. In- deed, father, and what is that? Why, first, it would encourage vice ; second- l3* ; it would rob the distressed ; and thirdly, I should be guilty of neglect of duty . Why, old pad, who are you ? Why, zounds! I'm the watchman of the parish. I'm the man of noisy fame, Old Dozey is my name, And the girls say I'm angry and bearish : At my box I take my stand, With my lantern in my hand, And to drown all noise and prattle, I spring my -watchman's rattle, Why, because I'm the charley of the parish. Thieves about, Find 'em out, Watch the cry, Rattles fly, Such a patter, Noise and clatter, With the rattles of the charleys of the parish. Spoken.'] Watch, watch, watch! ( Imitate the rattles.) stop thief, stop thief ; hold him fast, hold him fast. What's the matter, sir? The matter, you rascal, you've stole my watch. Watchman, I give charge. And, sir, I give charge. Here's my card, 1 deny your charge, sir ; and, as a gen- tleman, will punish you for so gross a mis-statement; search me, 1 in- sist, search me. Shame, shame, cries the mob, to charge a gentleman With such an act. I'll swear he took my watch, I saw it go, when two more chaps came by, and pass was the word; I gave the alarm, and I'll make good my charge. Come along, sir, to the watch-house. Stop, I give charge of that gentleman, I give charge of that gentleman, I give charge of that fellow, I give charge of that fellow. Zounds, cries the watch, charge yourself, for the devil a charge can I make of either of you. Bravo, cries the gang. Who are you, says the gemman? Who am 1 ? Why, zounds ! I'm the watchman of the parish. I'm the guardian of the night. At whom wags take great delight, And call it Life in London so waft- arish ; S3 198 Then turn topsy turvy, clown, Our box upon our crown, And then to save long parleys. , Their cry is floor the charleys, Vhy, zounds ! he's a watchman of the parish. Go it Tom. Come push on, See they sherry, Floor 'em Jerry, Caught at last, Watch-house fast, Where they're charged by the watch- man of the parish. Spoken.} Well, Tom — Jerry, here we are at last, cooped up in the d — d strong hole of the watch-house. Oh! Tom, 1 told you what these confound- ed sprees would bring us to ; to think, Jerry, what a d d clatter them rattles kicked up, our heads being lighter than our heels. Turning the corner of that narrow street, slap I went against the old scout; down Was the word, fairly caught — and here we are two pretty dickies in the cage. And then, Tom, what will the world say of a public examination to- morrow, at the office ; 1 think you had better offer terms to purchase liberty, and make an exit at any price. Why, I think, Jerry, your advice is in very good season. I'll see what can be done. Most honourable and worthy master, keeper of the strong hold of this delightful mansion, we two, nothing but good ones, having a little too much good humour in us, to let any one else be in humour, unfor- tunately, met a trifling jar with your worthy guardians of the out-door, have thus obtained their friendly as- sistance in a lodging for the night ; being desirous of making a removal, and trusting the name of a sovereign will remove the barrier, restore liberty and heal all broken heads, we should be happy to drink in a bowl of punch to the Watchman of the parish, &c. A COMIC MEDLEY. VERY near the west end, though I must not tell where, A shoemaker married a maiden so fair, COMIC SONGS. Who, a month after wedlock, 'tis true, I declare, Fell in love with — A flaxen-headed cow-boy, As simple as may be, And next a merry ploughboy, Who— Kissed and prattled with fifty fair maids, And changed them as oft, d'ye see, But- Near Southwark-Bridge, on the Sur- rey side, Lived a widow, who much did lack— The gentlemen of England, That live at home in ease, Ah ! how little do you think That— Love's a plague by night and by day, When that post you run your skull — On this cold flinty rock — I sing, I sing, in jingling rhymes, sir, In praise of long-past, good old times, When I was a boy, in my father 8 mud edifice, Tender and bare as — Roy's wife, of Aldevaloch, Roy's wife, of Aldevaloch, Wot ye how she cheated me — On the Lake of Kiliamey — While gazing on the moon's light, A moment from her smile 1 turned, To look on — Four-and-twenty ladies, all of a row, Four-and-twenty ladies, all of a row — Oh, what a row, what a rumpus, and a rioting There was — When first in Lunnun I arrived, On a visit, on a visit, When first in Lunnun I arrived — There was an ancient fail', and she loved — The ghost of a grim scrag of mutton! PART. II. Born at sea, and my cradle a frigate, Th'j boatswain he nursed me, true blue; I soon learned to fight, drink, and jig it. And quiz — When ladies and gentlemen, without baulking, Could go into Hyde-Park out a walk- ing, And there — COMIC SONGS. 199 ***■*+*+****■** frj+* *++*++*++++++++++++ As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping — An old jack-daw and a young jack- daw — On Sunday got floored, in groggy plight, Monday, quite stale, tooK — The pleasures ot" bathing — Oh— Ye lovers, behold a poor maiden for- lorn, But as pretty a creature as — E'er cracked a bottle or fathomed a bowl — In Hungerford-market — I peeped in the grand seraglio, Where the Turks keep their ladies so snugly O ; The ladies there — "Will you walk hi to my parlour, said a spider to — Old Mr. December, he lost his — Oh dear, what can the matter be 1 Oh, gramachree, what can the mat- ter be? Oh, blood and ouns — My lodging is on the cold ground, And very hard is my fare — When roast beef was eaten off plat- ters wooden, And nobody never dined — At the town ofnate Clogheen — I saw Norab, who soon understood — I was the boy for bewitching her — As down on Banna's banks I strayed, One evening — Judy, all the while, got stout, And, after that, got — A regiment of Irish dragoons — While deeds of hell deface — A fond husband, after a conjugal strife — For, by way of a finish to this vile act, The lady (depend on't) 'tis a fact, Has brought him a boy, the image Of Walker, the two-penny post- man! ;mr. pry. YOU call me Mr. Pry, And still you will be prying, To know what brought me here, — So news 1 will be aying. What news is this ? you say ; I see it in each eye : Then a'n't you Mr. Pry, I say, as much as I. Spoken ^\ To pry into other peo- ple's affairs, 1 say, I don't like. I wonder now — 1 should like to know what our neighbour Weighlight thinks of the new system of regulation ; — but I don't want to know. Why, I say, he'll have to buy all new small- beer pots and vinegar measures ; — I should like to pop in when they come home, to hear what old Nanny will say, (she's a proper old screw;) but I don't want to know ; therefore I'll La ral la, &a I hope I don't intrude, — Your healths 1 do inquire : I just stept in to see, And will, if you desire A thing or two relate ; But then you'll say I'm prying, And that is what 1 hate ; So news I wo'n't be crying. Spoken.'] I don't want : but I should like to know what our neighbour Squinny and his house-keeper was about to-day ; they were so close in chit-chat : I'm pretty sure it was about me ; but 1 don t mind ; but they were so close together- I wonder what they were about ; but 1 don't want to know; but I'm sure they were — La ral la, &e. Then call me what you please, And I will be contented ; But rumours, now a-days, Are much to be lamented. They say I want to know The business all around me ; Was I to tell you all, I'm sure it would confound ye. Spoken.] I should like to tell you what I heard the other day ; but there you'd say, I've been prying into other people's affairs ; but, I do assure you, I have not, I didn't want to know ; I only asked the foot-boy what his mas- ter and the cook were doing in the kitchen the other night ; and he said — La ral la, &c. Then there's neighbour Wise, As plain as any Quaker ; His servant's so precise, for an angel you would take her 200 COMIC SONGS. I just stepped in to see, Or rather to inquire ; And there, what's that to me ? Oh ! how her eyes did fire. Spoken.] When she saw me ; but I said nothing ; I didn't want to know; so, as 1 was saying, I just stepped in to ask the news or the morning- Oh ! Mr. Pry, says neighbour Wise, neigh- bours are very scandalous ; they say that Betty and I joined in a duet, and La ral la, &c. It's time now to withdraw, I've other fish a frying ; I hope you'll not backbite, And say I have been prying. I've one thing more to say, Before I this conclude, I wish you all long life, I hope I don't intrude. Spoken.] Now, I'll just step in to neighbour Prattle's, and hear the news of the day ; but I don't want to know. But I should like to know, too, how her neighbour, of sixty-five, gets on with his new bride of seventeen. I would not name it for the world ; no, ■ — but I am sure 1 saw her and her handsome footman very close toge- ther ; but they sha'n't say that I raise any scandal ; but 1 know that such things will happen to fehe tune of-- La rai la, &c. GOLDFINCH IN HIS GLORY. YA, hip ; for Goldfinch there, make way, I'm up to all the rigs of town ; With four-in-hand I dash away, And laugh at every hawbuck clown. For I'm the prime, the knowing lad, Not by your deep ones to be had ; I take the road, my whip I crack, On creditors I turn my back, And, as I push along I cry, Who's bang up prime 1 Eh ! dam- me I. Spoken.] Lord bless your heart! where's the use of talking to one about creditors 1 it's all fudge ; they'll get nicks from me. I know what's life, and I know what's what, I'm ilash. — I'm down on the darley ; my prads are all high-mettled, and I'm a met- tlesome blade myself; only show me. the kiddy that would attempt to start against me, and see if I don't give him a bit of a taste, in true style ; it I don't, may I never make my tits touch col- lar again, with my Dash away, splash away, spank along like mud ; Of all the knowing blades on town s sure Goldfinch is the lad. With Widow Warren, t'other day, I drove in style through Rotten- row; A blade, who passed us on our way, Thought he could give us there the go. Y a hip ! says I, it will not fit ; If you're for gig, I'm full of it ; Pooh ! fan your leaders as you please, 'Tis I can beat you out with ease, What ! you pretend to drive with me? Why you're not half the thing, I see. Spoken.] You bang up 1 no, not in a hundred years. — More bang up than you, says he. — Only try it on, then, says I. — Done! for a hundred, done ! So, says I to my tit, only twig now, how I'll serve that gill out in rum style : so 1 gives my off grey a frisk under the flank, and off we start : when his sorrels, knowing they'd got a muns for a driver, turned head, and my hind wheel coming in contact with his, over he spanks, like a green-horn as he was. Halloo ! Mr. Muggins, says I, what, you are there in all your glory, are you — eh ! a pretty muns you've made of yourself now. You attempt to drive four-in-hand ! why, I wouldn't trust you with a blind cart-horse. Don't you know, stupid, that I'm the thing, the regular, the real bang-up, the best whip on the town ; — that 1 can cut a fly's eye out from the tip of a prad's ear? Now, that there roley poley serves you just right, old blue-bottle ; don't you think it does, my nice one ? — Yes, to be sure it does, my prince — you gave him the neat caper in good style, with your Dash away, splash away, spank along, &c. COMIC SONGS. 201 ++»++++■»»■»+*+*». With upper benjamin, so neat, And togged out all in proper twig ; If chance an awkward whip I meet I bother him and run my rig. Yep! spoony Buffer, pull up do, Pray, whoa driver made of you .' Now keep your side and hold your jaw, You'll nap a fibbing Johnny Raw: Take one small taste, you'll soon take wing, For, d — me, Goldfinch is the thing. Spoken.'] The thing! I believe you, my son. — none of your stuff and non- sense with me — it won't do ; for I can accommodate your bod}" any how you like. Suppose I have not tipped the coachmaker, as vou sa}-, what's that to you, old dead wig? youwo'n't come down with the brads, will you ? Hold your slaRg, then, and sherry, morris, broom — cut the stick with four set of raw -bones and heavy drag. mean to go my lengths, and when I can go no further, why I shall go Over the water ; and then I shall have an opportunit\- of singing with some of my old pals, who have been nib- bled before me — Dash away, splash away, spank along, &c. THE KING AND THE WEST- COUN TRY-MAN. THERE was an eld chap in the West country, A flaw in his lease the lawyers had found ; It were all about a-felling some trees, And building some houses upon his own ground. Ri tooral, 5cc. Now this old chap to Lunnun had come, To tell the king a part of his wo ; Likewise, to tell him a part of his grief, In hopes King George would give him relief. Ri tooral, cvc. Now this old chap to Lunnun did go But found the king to Windsor had gone ; But if he had a known he'd not been at home, He domed his buttons if ever he'd come. Ri tooral, &c. Now this old chap to Windsor did go, But the gates were barred, and all secure, And he thumped and bumped with his oaken clump, There's room within for I, to be sure. Ri tooral, &c. Pray, Mr. Noble, show I the king ; What's that the king that 1 'see there 1 I seed a chap at Bartlemy-fair, Much more like a king than that chap there, Ri tooral, &c. Pra3 T , Mr. King, how do you do 1 I'ze gotten for you a bit on a jobb'n , And it you're so kind, to make you amends, I'ze gotten for you a sommetinmy fobb'n. Ri tooral, &c. The king he took the lease in hand, And to sign it he was likewise, willing; And the farmer, to make him a little amends, He lugged out his bag, and gi'd him a shilling. Ri tooral, &c. The king, to carry on the joke, He ordered ten pounds to be paid down, Likewise ten shillings and balf-a- crown, For year and year after, and ever- more. Ri tooral, &c. The farmer he stared, and looked very funny, But to tak' up the cash he was like- wise willing ; But if he had a known he'd had so much money, He dommed his wig if he'd give him the shilling. Ri tooral, &c. 202 THE PRESENT TIMES. AlR. — The good old Bays of Adam and Eve. IN verses new, and all in rhyme, sirs, I wish to sing of the present times, sirs, When steam-boats are going, 'mid smoke and flame, sirs. And money's gone, what a burning shame, sirs, This is the time, for those who like it, To see the soldiers and elephants fight it, While half the town they're pulling down, sirs, And the new king of France is wear- ing his crown, sirs. Bless me, bless me, what shall I do, sirs, When nothing goes down but what is new, sirs. Of all new things it's now more pro- perer To talk of that singer at the Opera ; Orpheus of old, who charmed with the flute, he Would be charmed if he heard Vel- luti; There's Hyde-Park-corner gone away, sirs, I do suppose 'twas ashamed to stay, sirs ; I wonder the Park itself now don't stir, And not be blushing at that green monster. Bless me, bless me, &c. The steam is now in such good repute, sirs, That they're going to use it to play the flute, sirs ; Half a century ago, or more, alas, sirs, There was no such thing in the world as gas, sirs. And then there's building all the rage, sirs, In this most wonderful uncommon age, sirs : And so, my friends, don't be surpris- ed, now, If you hear of St. Paul's being raised to the skies, now. Bless me, bless mc, &c. In olden times, it was the fashion For the ladies in hoops and satins to dash on ; COMIC SONGS. And, as they wore ruffs round their throats, sirs, They looked like butts in large petti coats, sirs, But now, forsooth, they are more particular About their bodies being perpendi- cular, They wear large backs, and with big sleeves strut on, And genteelly call them legs of mut- ton. Bless me, bless me, &c. New companies are so much afloat, sirs. That there shortly will be one for suckling goats, sirs ; Besides, there's one made, by Mr. Dickens, Of using steam for hatching chickens : There's the new London-bridge and the new Vauxhall, sirs, And then (that's not new) there's no trade at all, sirs ; And the dirty new roads, by Mr, M' Adam, That's made to splash each mister and madam. Bless me, bless me, &c. But the paviors, when they make the clatter, Should join to the tune of stoney-bat- ter ; And, though the Seven Wonders have left their abodes, sirs. Yet Mr. Mac's the Colossus of Rhodes, sirs. But, now I'm done, I'll away be straying, So not a word more I'm singing or saying ; And, though to you 1 bid adieu, sirs, I'll go and look for something new, sirs. Bless me, bless me, &c. WONDERFUL SIGHTS. AlR. — Drops of Brandy. THE world full of wonders is grown, And still every day they're increas- ing; When you've heard my song, you'll all own, They never are like to be ceasing. A monster of late has appeared COMIC SONGS. 203 Who beats former wonders all hollow ; The truth I can't tell, but I've heard He means all the world soon to swallow. Oh, Lord ! what a deuce of a twist ! Fal, lal, lal, &c. He a pipe of the Monument made ; Took the dome of St. Paul's for a bowl, sirs ; With Colossus, at Rhodes, too, 'tis said He walked through the streets cheek by jowl, sirs : His appetite, too, is so sharp, That, once whan he wanted a feast, sirs, The Tower he took down at a gape, And swallowed up all the wild beasts, sirs. My eye, what a deuce of a twist! Fal, lal, lal, &c. Vauxhall-Gardens he put in his boot And at foot-bail, oh dear he's so clever, With one touch of his sweet little foot He kicked London-Bridge into the river. He next took his way to the Mint, And there, sirs, he cut such a caper, He pocketed all that was in't, So now we get nothing but paper. Oh, dear, what a deuce of a chap ! Fal, lal, lal &c. The India-House, Bank, and Ex- change Were hid in his large waistcoat pocket, oh ! And what, sirs, was equally strange, He wore Carlton-House as a locket, oh! The watchmen astounded were quite, And alarmed for the good of the nation, When he told them that he every night Drank the Thames as a cooling potation. Oh, dear, what a deuce of a gulp ! Fal, lal, lal, &c. Then over the Mansion-House straight He jumped all so handsome and clever, But, oh ! what misfortunes await — He tumbled right plump in the river. He swallowed the boats in a crack, And the vessels had shared the same doom, sirs, But the devil caught hold of his back, And diving, he carried him home, sirs. My eye, what a precious good go ! Fal, fal, lal, &c. FROST FAIR. THE frost was very hard, and the coals were very dear, The days were very short, and the nights were very queer, The cattle, male and female, all were playing slippery games, When Johnny Bull set off to have a lark upon the Thames. Spoken, in different voices?^ O ! ma'am, impossible ; you can't pass here without handing over the brads, you must tip / Tip, sir, what d'ye mean 1 — Mean, why pay to be sure. Indeed, I did not imagine our lan- guage was capable of so much im- provement. — there, ma'am, keep to the left, and then to the right, then straight forward, and follow your uose or else you may slip in. — Here's my cock up, a halfpenny a throw. — Here's my cock up, three throws a penny. — Come, come, no opposition, that's what I calls smashing ; for this is the most wonderful wonder, this here pa- per was printed on the Thames, in February, 1814, and only a penny a piece ! To tumble down, crack your crown, Hodges' gin, pra3 7 walk in, I've had a slip, and broke my hip, O what a rig, I've lost my wig, Odsbobs, how my wife will" stare O! When I tell of my loss, Oh ! she'll be monstrous cross, But 'twas all on the Thames so rare O ! The women all were mad, to go and see the fun, And with their husbands' linen to the pop shop they did run ; So Mr. Tw o-to-one filled up his ticket with his names, And all the ladies went to have a lartt upon the lhames. Spoken, in different voices.'] I say, Dick, lend us a hand, here's a voman and a young un fell in this here hole here. — Veil, ma'am, how d'ye like it 1 I hope you are not vet. — O ! I am 204 COMIC SONGS. drowned to a dead certainty. — Hot ! hot ! hot ! all a penny a slice ! — Let me have two slices and a half, sir, that will be twopence-halfpenny. — Can't make half a slice, my dear, if I was to do that, I should Tumble down, &c. At reason and good argument the ladies all are clever, So to keep the fun alive they wish the frost may last for ever ; And what care I, says Sukey, should the house be all in flames, If I can only run and have a lark upon the Thames. Spoken, in different voices."] There, be a good girl, Sally, and put on a clean pin-a-fore, and you shall go on the ice to-morrow — it mayn't freeze again, and then you won't have ano- ther opportunity! La! pa, don't it always freeze in frosty weather? There's a sensible girl, Mr. Soapsuds, only sixteen the thirty -second of next month, and knows every letter in the alphabet except the W. Here's a full, true ? and most affecting, and most cutting account of all the ladies and gem'men who was drowned on the Thames this here hard frost, and the names of all those who have Tumble down, &c. To prevent all disappointment, and to do away all tear, A fair upon the river will be kept up once a year, "Where Sam and Dick, and Jack and Bill, and all such pretty names. With Sail and Moll, and Peg and Poll, may lark upon the Thames. Spoken.} O, yes ! O, yes ! O, yes ! this is to give notice, that a premium will be paid to the man or woman who brings the first waggon-load of ice towards freezing the Thames, at the beginning of January, 1827, where all persons are desired to assemble, to Tumble down, &c. THE COURT OF APOLLO. TO the muses dramatic I'm akin, For my shop is their own panorama, And with song I inspire every custo- mer's chin, As 1 drop him the scraps of the drama, All my soap I perfume from Par- nassus's mount, With such sweets as my customers swallow, And my brush, too, I dip in Castalia's fount, While 1 shave in the Court of Apollo, Spoken, in different voices.] " Up, cousin, up, your heart's up, 1 know." — Shakspear. O ! by the powers, now, 'twas up to my mouth all the time : but what have I got to pay 1 " Three thousand ducats." Shiver my timbers ! you are mad, or three sheets in the wind. " I am mad N .N.W. but when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw." Yea, friend, but 1 cannot tell thy razor from a handsaw, for it sorely moveth the flesh. " A vaunt thy blood is cold." Ah ! veil it may be ; I vish I may vonce get out of this here slaughter-house. Slaughter-house 1 ? " Off with his head." Why this is the Temple of the Muses, walk in who chooses, And all take your turns as they follow : There are no excuses for him who refuses To shave in the Court of Apollo. Both the buskin and sock 'tis my in- terest to please, And to dress in the last of the fa- shions ; Should a cut from the razor or old Shakspeare tease, Why I tip them an Ode on the Pas- sions. Thus is teasing made easy, and smooth- ly goes down With the oil of dramatic quotation, And, an actor of all work, cut out for the town, 1 thus live by the town's approba- tion. Spoken, in different voices.] There, " your chin new reaped shows like stubble-land at harvest home." Shak- speare. O, d — n Shakspeare. " Had I three ears I'd hear thee." I am sure you must have de tree ears, for you have £iot one of mine. " Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice. ' " Shake not thy gory locks at me. COMIC SONGS. 205 *********** »*** ** for here's some pomatum will "make each particular hair to stand on end, like quills upon the fretful porcu- f)ine." Blesh my shoul ! I must sure- y have got into Bedlam ! " O, Jeph- tha, judge of Israel" ! ! ! Why this is the— Temple of the Muses, &c. Thus 1 try how to rival the Roscius at home, And each actor I claim as a crony ; Just as characters come within swing of my comb, I fill up my dramatis persona ; "When I have a thin house, from the Tragical Maid A visage 1 draw full of sorrow ; "When the whole is a farce for my benefit played, A soft smile rrom Thalia I borrow. Spoken, in different voices.} Yes, f I can smile, and murder while 1 smile." The devil you can ; then pray let me go. JS ay, " sit, good cousin Hot- spur." " Art thou not ashamed to look upon this beard V 'Pon honour, I've sat here so long that I shall soon go to sleep. " To sleep ! perchance to dream - — ay' there's the rub." I'd thank you not to rub so much of your d — d soap down my throat. Then " ope thy pondrous jaws and cast it up again." Pondrous jaws ! where's the glass 1 "Shine forth, bright sun, till I can buy a glass." Well, dang me if didn't think for sartin I wur in a barber's shop. Shop ! " Oh, hateful error, Melancholy's child V — " There is no speculation in those eyes that thou dost glare with," for this is the — Temple of the Muses, &c. ELECTIONS FOR EVER. Air.— Roast Beef of Old England. COME, come, look about, there is no time to lose, The elections are now on to pick and to choose ; Dear women, make ready for favours and blisses, There are lips waiting for ye t and pregnant with kisses! Huzza ! huzza ! elections, — Elections for ever, huzza! ■***********•**+*** There are men looking upwards, and men looking down, And some on the tremble in country and town: There are candidates pliant, and turn- ing about, And some (heaven help them !) most sure to turn out ! Huzza ! huzza ! &c. There is clapping and shouting, both in doors and out, Some mouths a.-la.-Liston, and some on the pout ; There is whooping and stooping at bribery's call, Wi(h, " humbugs for ever," chalked up on each wall. Huzza! huzza! &c. There are petticoat-sergeants and petticoat-laws, With greedy committees in this and that cause ; There is breaking of windows and mak ing a?neuds, With friends turned enemies, — ent mies friends ! Huzza ! huzza ! &c. There is speeching and preaching from little and great, With butchers and bakers to botch up the state ! There is hoaxing and coaxing to bring up the votes, With pairing , and swearing, and turn- ing of coats. Huzza ! huzza ! &c. There is posting and prancing from morning to night, Some alert on the canvass, and some in a fight ! There are some for the mole-boys, and some for the crown, Some rascals knocked up, and some bullies knocked dozen ! Huzza! huzza! &c. There is flocking and knocking at this and that door, With beauty vote-begging, that ne'er begged before : There is bowing and scraping, the flats to cajole, And some without heads at the head of the poll! Huzza ! huzza ! &c. 1 206 COMIC SONGS. There are lispers and whispers of seats bought and sold, Yet selling their maker and freedom for gold! There is howling and growling 'bout taxes and ills, With psalm-si?iging saints taking per- jury's pills. Huzza ! huzza ! &c. There are worthy electors and crea- tures of note, Getting out of the way till convenient to vote : There is rolling in kennels, confusion, and noise, With noses of Hood from the liherty- boys. Huzza! huzza! &c. There are houses kept open for voters of spunk, Such eating and drinking, and times to get drunk : There is tag-rag and bob-tail, with ■ribbons arrayed, With bills running up, that will never be paid. Huzza ! huzza ! &c. In short, having run through the hub- bubbub breeze, And settled who shall and shall not be M.P.'s, The chairing will follow, with smil- ing and bowing, A little more gab and a little more rowing. Huzza! huzza! &c. At length, in the house they' 11 be tak- ing their seats, And then for their promises, virtues, and feats : But Time's telling mirror will hold up to view, What good deeds or bad ones their ho- nours will do. Huzza! huzza! &c. ASCOT RACES. WITH spirits, then, Dickey mounts, since all are in their places, So gaily drest in Sunday's best, dash off for Ascot races ; Yet, ere I go, I think I'll show we're but the fashion gracing, For high and low, and belle and beau, and all the world are racing. Some run the right road, some the wrong, Some crooked, and some level; The parson races to the sfcy, The lawyer to the devil! Young ladies race after dress, their lovers, and the fashion, Young men they race after them, and often madly dash on ; The buck runs after curricles, low waist, and high shirt-collars, The tailor races after him, and soon the bailiff follows. Some men race after health, Some after pleasures funny : While other men race after tame, But all race after money. The doctor races after fees, in very many cases, And death, and Mr. Sexton, always after doctor races. The British soldiers race the foe, who always run before them, And singers often run away for the audience to encore 'em. Then, to the races now I'll race, Zounds ! I've no brains about me ; For, while that I've been singing here, They have raced without me. THE HEAD-ACHE. Air. — Whafs a Woman like? THE head-ache, tormenting, oh, dear ; What mortal, with patience, can bear; 'Tis the devil, and all when about one; In one's ears such a ringing, Ding donging, and singing, Of our senses it strives for to rout one. Then by squallers surrounded, With their racket confounded, And no peace to be got high or low, We stamp, curse, and swear, And start from the chair, For a walk, then, for quietness go. In the street when we get, Worse misfortunes are met, Such noises around to distract you ; Coppersmiths hammering, Old women clamouring, I rom each side, with their discord at- tract you. COMIC SONGS. 207 Then the dustman, with bells, In your ear " Dust, O !" yells ; Knives, scissars to grind, With -the bagpipes behind, Your head-ache with fury increasing, Brats squalling a song, Coaches rattle along, Their rumbling never decreasing. 'Twould most drive a man out of his mind, Such numerous noises combined ; In one's ear close a bugle-horn wind- ing, Then an organ with discord set grind- ing. Still increasing the pain, The head most split in twain, "Where can we for quietness go, man 1 But discord around is heard in each sound ; My unhappy nob with anguish doth throb ; O, how shall I cure it? I cannot endure it ; "What will ease it, 1 pray, let me know, man? A deep sigh, I shall die ; Such moaning and groaning; My temples ! O, dear ! now, now, my poor ear ! My tongue at the thought, in terror stops short ! O, the head-ache's the devil to know, man. THE MILLER'S WEDDING. LEAVE, neighbours, your work, and to sport and to play, Let the tabor strike up, and the vil- lage be gay ; No day through the year shall more cheerful be seen, For Ralph of the Mill marries Sue of the Green. I love Sue, and Sue loves me, And while the wind blows, And while the mill goes, Who'll be so happy, so happy as we. Let lords and fine folks who for wealth take a bride, Be married to-day, and to-morrow be cloyed ; My body is stout, and my heart is as sound, And my love, like my courage, will never give ground. For 1 love Sue, &c. Let ladies of fashion the best join- tures wed, And prudently take the best bidders to bed, Such signing and sealing's no part of our bliss, We settle our hearts, and we seal with a kiss. For I love Sue, &c. Though Ralph is not courtly, nor one of your beaus, Nor bounces, nor flatters, nor wears your fine clothes ; In nothing he'll follow from folks of high life, Nor ne er turn his back on his friend or his wife. For I love Sue, &c. While thus I am able to work at my mill, While thus thou art kind, and my tongue but lies still, Our joys shall continue, and ever be new, And none be so happy as Ralph and his Sue. For I love Sue, &c. TIE TUM TI ; OR, RUTH AND HER TWO LOVERS. YEA, I fell in the pit of love, With a ti turn ti, The spirit then began to move, With a ti turn ti, Quoth I, " Fair maiden, ne'er deride, For, verily, when thou'rt my bride, Lo ! I will cleave unto thy side," With a ti turn ti. " Behold," said Ruth, " there is a grove, With a ti turn ti. Where birds, called turtles, coo and love." With a ti turn ti. Lo ! then I thought her truly mine ; But when of love she gave this sign, She proved a cruel Phi-lis-tine, With a ti turn ti. For she another suitor had, With a ti turn ti, Profanely called a flashy lad, With a ti turn ti. And when I reached the grove as- signed, rle came before I Ruth coujd find, And kicked me ruth-less-ly behind, With a toe turn ti. T2 208 COMIC SONGS. ****+**■**■+»+»■■*». THE DELIGHTS OF WOR- THING. Air. — Bartlemy Fair. COME, my lovey, get the cash, I mean to cut a flash ; We'll be off to Fetter-lane, And to Worthing go again, Where the sea, so wide and grand, Runs away from off the strand, And the donkeys crowd the Steyne, O! Bless my lire — look'ee, wife, Mr. Brittle— Mrs. Twittle ; How do '{ — How are you 1 ? Oh, dear ! — weather queer. Spoken.'] Ay, very queer ! it don't agree with my wife ; it makes her mumpish and ill-humoured — nobody can look at her without pouting. Ay, Alderman, now you are troubled a little by ill-humours, yet 1 defy any- body to gaze upon you without grin- ning. Do you believe it, my friend Pun-all and I were going to bathe yesterday, and he would insist upon my going into the water first. He was right; he thought your nose might warm it. La ! says Miss Timid, little boy, pull back the donkey, or it will take fright at that dirty child, and I wouldn't for the world have a — Hey down, ho down, derry derry down, At sweet little Worthing, I mean, O ! Then, for Beauty, I declare, We have all the ladies fair, And they make the place so nice, That it looks like Paradise ; But they never look so fine, So charming and divine, As when — Lord, they know where I mean, O ! There so gay — smile away ; Pay with grace — here's my place. Where's Sammy?— Here mam- my. Look at Cosey — play up Nosey. Spoken.'] I say, you sir, with the ugly face, play up the College Horn- pipe, No, give us Rule Britannia, that's fitter for a watering-place. Come, sir, I'd thank you not to be kissing my sweetheart. I'd thank that gentleman in the gallery, with the ragged jacket, to shut his mouth. Who do you call a gentleman, sir? I won't be called names by you. — I knows how to behave myself with good manners, and, if you want any- thing, be quiet, and I'll crack your canister. Lud, wife, there's Mr. Suet, the butcher, he looks quite c/wp-fallen. No wonder, for he's at his last stake, he's nothing but skin and bone, and the man's sheepish enough to fancy that sea-air will fatten him up again — but he's a bachelor, and the sooner he goes the better, unless he means to take a — Hey down, ho down, &c. Then, having met so gay, We sit and see the play, Where we so gaily rest, While the actors do their best, And I'll forsake 'em never, But applaud 'em if they're clever, And my deary shall weep at the scene, O ! Comic things — playhouse rings, Actors sigh — ladies cry, Lord, how witty — dresses pretty, Gad, I swear — they're quite fair. Spoken.] Dear me, I'm nearly as well pleased as ever I was ; 1 hav'n't felt such satisfaction since my first wife died. Satisfaction, sir ! why shouldn't you be satisfied, the manager spares no expense, the performers spare no trouble, and, though you don't hear Kemble. Kean, or Catalani, I trust you behold, with a smiling countenance, a little school that the first heroes of Thespian fame would never think unworthy of them ; for, to this day, they think with pleasure of — Hey down, ho down, &c. In the Libraries so neat, The gents and ladies meet, Where, to pass the time away, They read novel, farce, or play Then embrace the flowing tide, Or enjoy the fragrant ride. While many other pleasures intervene O! Summer's grace dies apace ; Coach is taken — beach forsaken ; Off they fly — to London hie Till winter o'er — then, once more. COMIC SONGS. 209 ++»***+-e+*+++4++ +++■»+++ ++*<*++ Spoken.] Old and young start to se- cure places at the coach-office. Office- keeper, you must only charge one fare for my husband and grandfather, because they are so little, Yes, ma'am but if they're little, you've something about you very great. What's that I Not your modesty, ma'am. (Coun- tryman.) What do you charge coach- man? Fourteen shillings for one out- side. Then there's fourteen shillings for me and my wife. What! why that's two! Noa, we spent t'other money yesterday to make us one — and now I'ze going to Worthing. Ay, where the people always are so glad to see their old friends — where they are so generous and hospitable — and where they smile to hear a — Hey down, ho down, &c. THE PLEASURES OF TRAVEL- LING. Air. — Bag of Nails. IF pleasure you voud know, then tra- vel by the mail, sir, There's nothing half so full of fun, however folks may rail, sir, You must be wery wentersome, if knowledge 3 y ou'd be gaining ; Then try, and you'll allow it's wastly entertaining. Tol lol de rol, &c. There's big and little, short and tall, the squire and the farmer, And you may be quite cosey with some sweet bewitching charmer ; With tinkers, tailors, aldermen, quack- doctors, gin or thief, sir, All tightly squeedged together as close as potted beef, sir. Tol lol de rol, &c. When to breakfast we alight, if you should be sharp set, sir, Pray don't be wery nice, but eat what you can get, sir ; They kick up such a rumpus with the coffee-pots and kettles. That if you don't look wery sharp, you'll never get no wictuals. Tol lol de rol, &c. Thus we gaily dash along, nor care about the wet, sir, And as we scamper down a hill vhy ve m?y get upset, sir ; But do not you be timbersome, for, if your neck you break, sir, With pleasure I vill undertake to find an undertaker. Tol lol de rol, &c. Then banish all your fears, and don't stand shilly shally, But mount the mail, and push along through willage, town, or walley ; And, if your journey is cut short, to guard you from all scoffing, I'll send you home quite snug in a patent iron coffin. Tol lol de rol, &c. OH ! ITS LOVE ! OH ! 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love, That makes the world go round ; Every day, beneath his sway, Fools, old and young, abound ; Love often turns young ladies' brains, At which mamma will scold, So, in revenge, Love thinks it fair * To shoot sometimes the old ; With love some folks go mad, 'Tis love makes some quite thin, Some find themselves so bad, The sea they must jump in. Oh ! 'tis love, &c. Love rules alike, both high and low, Great people, and the small ; Excepting, always, married pairs, Which love can't rule at all. Yet angels men will see, In those dear forms they wed ; What angels those must be, Who crack a husband's head ! Oh ! 'tis love, &c. In all your letters filled with love Take care no vows appear ; For if they ever go to court, You'll look a little queer : Not Hymen's court, 1 mean ■ With blooming Loves and Graces ; But where, instead, are seen, Long wigs, and longer faces Oh ! 'tis love, &c. Then, why should lover* ever pine, For any fair they see 1 If tzvetity-one your suit decline, Still sixty may agree ; Though younger maidens jeei, And say this choice is wrong, One consolation's clear, She can't live very long ! Oh ! 'tis love, &c. 210 COMIC SONGS. TANTARARARA, ROGUES ALL! COME come, my good masters,\vhat's all this about, Such grunting and groaning, within doors and out % Some mountain is bursting, or will, 'ere 'tis long, Just to keep up the tune of the old- fashioned song. Sing Tantararara, rogues all, rogues all ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all ! The Farmers — oh no ! Farming Gen- tlemen now, Who know nought about either pas- ture or plough, Tell us plain that the clodpoles for such things were born, 'Tis enough that they know when to lock up their corn ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. The Brewers (poor creatures !) mono- poly s crew, Complain of the hardships they're forc'd to go through ! And, while they buy up all they can, far and near, Deem it hard to get five pence a pot for small beer ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. The Miller (sly dog) in his way gets a pull, And, while the mill's going, keeps grinding John Bull ! Yet Bull tells the miller, in spite of mill-clack, Though his outside is whitened, his in is d — d black! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. The Grazier, who seldom does busi- ness by halves, And blood draws the Bull-breed as so many calves, With the middle man bargains to keep up the price, And thus lives to bite us, as cats bleed the mice ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. The Butcher, while cutting his mut- ton and beef, Cries — "The trade is so starving, it kills me with grief;" *++*+*++***■*■**++■**. And, while he is rolling in riches and fat, Exclaims — '* Why I don't get a far- thing by that!" Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. The Grocers, (sweet things !) are too sweet in their way To meddle with birch-twigs, or deal in foul play ; So the laws and exciseman but leave them alone, They can dish up their tea-stuff with leaves of their own ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. Cant ! cant ! is the order and hum of the day, While honesty } s kicked like a strum- pet away ; Pimps, sharps, and pickpockets join hands with defaulters, Some waiting for places, and others for halters ! Sing Tantararara, rogues all, &c. MISS FIDDLESTICK'S-END AND HER THREE LOVERS. MISS Fiddlestick's-end was a sweet pretty maid, Or r.ather a tough hump-backed dame ; But Miss Fiddlestick's-end hated mu- sic, 'tis said, Though her's was a musical name, Three lovers she had, which she thought did become her, A Scotchman, a Jew, and a tall Irish drummer, Who tried all they could into marri- age to hum her, Sweet Miss Fiddlestick's-end. With true love for her — riches their bosoms were warmed, But, not knowing the humourous jade, An unluck v intention each lover had formed, To give her a sweet serenade. Each, priding himself in his musical genius, Made sure of obtaining this copy of Venus, And all strove to please, by their words and demeanours. Charming Miss FiddlestickVend. COMIC SONGS. 211 +*r ***+*****+***+**. At the very same hour, on the very same night, They'd fixed for this grand master- stroke, The moon herself laughed as she gave them her light, And the stars seemed to wink at the joke ; "When beneath their love's window these sons of Apollo, The Jew on his harp, Sawney's bag- pipe did follow, But Pat, on his rub-a-dub, beat them all hollow. O, lovely Miss Fiddlestick's-end. Miss Fiddlestick's-end had a very bad cold, And had long since retired to bed ; She slept very sound, as her nose loudly told, But the noise might have roused up the dead. Enraged, she jumped out, in a terri- ble passion, Seized a certain utensil, in bed-cham- ber fashion, And the poor serenaders it quickly went dash on. O, cruel Miss Fiddlestick's-end. THE FOOTMAN, THE BUTLER AND THE COOKMAID. Air. — The Exciseman. IN a nobleman's family dwelt A footman, whose name it was John, He loved a fair maiden, and felt That his heart it was melted and gone, She made all the puddings and pies, Though askance with her eyes she did look, And Johnny admired the sweet eyes Of this fat little Betty the cook. One night in the winter they sat, All love, by the great kitchen fire, Cried John, by the lace on my hat, You're all that this breast can de- sire; So swear to be constant to me, Or you'll kill me, as I am a man ; If you do,straight my ghost shall make thee Nothing else but a sop in the pan. His Betty she swore, but, oh dear ! A week had not dwindled away, When a butler spruce did appear, With his wig all so powdered and gay, So Johnny was slighted, and he While cleaning his knives often sighed, Till at length he took one, d'ye see, And cut his poor throat till he died. Now Betty she cared not a pin, For, the very next Sunday, 'tis said, The butler her word he did win, And they went to St. George's to wed, Then their friends in the kitchen all met, Near the fire a young pig it did roast, But Betty she could not forget, For, oh dear, she remembered th ghost. The butler was chanting a song, When some one his singing did spoil, 'Twas the ghost in his winding-sheet long Who came this poor maiden to broil. The butler jumped into a chest, The coachman fell fiat on the floor, While the housemaids and all of the rest They flew to get out at the door. The ghost seized his love, though she ran. And never a word did he say, But plump in the hot dripping-pan Poor Betty quite meltingly lay. The butler died in the chest, And now, every year, it is said, John's ghost does the mansion infest, With a dripping-pan placed on his head. GABY GLUM AND SUSAN FRIZZLE. Air.— The Tom Cat. MY name is Gaby Glum, 1 bees turned ot one-and-twenty ; And my face, I thinks, I gum, Will get me sweethearts plenty Though my mammy cries ' O fie ! What stuff runs in your noddle V Why, thinks L myself, thinks I, A courting- 1 mun toddle. 212 • Spoken.] So, d'ye see, I contrived the other night to give mother the slip, tossed on my Sunday clothes, and hav- ing a bit or a sweetheart in my eye, I toddled along the road, singing La ral la, ral la, &c. Susy Frizzle was the name Of her I loved so dearly ; A raw -boned strapping dame, She six feet stootf, or nearly. 'Twas night, and fast asleep ' Was laid each inmate's noddle, Save Towser, who did keep Such a row, he made me toddle. Spoken."} Yes, the cross-grained cur wou'dn't be pacified at all ; I offered un a large slice of cheese, which I stole out of my mother's pantry ; and dang it, d'ye know, when I turned about to toddle home again, he boned the skirt of my coat, tore a thumping hole in my inexpressibles, and spoiled my singing La ral la, ral la, &c. So I strolled about till day, When to the field I went, sir, And found her making hay, To tell my mind was bent, sir ; I talked of Jove, but she With frowns bedecked her noddle, And, cross as cross could be, Told me I'd better toddle. Spoken.] * Oh, Susy !' cried T, ' sweeter than the haycock you're tossing over, that rennet-look of yours will turn the cream of my love into the curds and whey of despair ;' at at that moment a tall Irish haymaker jumped out of the hedge, ' Blood and turf,' says he, ' don't be after teazing the damsel, she's given herself to me for better or worse ; and bad manners to mine ownself, if you don't be after being off, why I'll tip you an Irish comforter with my bunch of fives, that will make you sing La ral la, ral la, &c. A great huge stick he raised, And looked as black as thunder, To ha' stopped I mun be crazed, So thought best to knock under ; For had I looked or spoke, He sure ha' cracked my noddle ; So, not liking much the joke, I thought it best to toddle. COMIC SONGS. Spoken.] Yes, and here I bees corned to London, in search of a wife ; ay, and I don't doubt, but as I'm a prattyish, genteel-looking sort of a young- man, 1 shall soon find one, who will teach me to sing La ral la, ral la, &c, LOVE IN THE BUILDINGS. Air. — Ballinamona or a. IN London once dwelt, near the end of Cheapside, Miss Paul — a great beauty, 'it can't be denied • So lofty her air was — her steps full of grace, And all Ludgate-hill owned she'd a very fine face ; 'Tis true that her temper was fail- ing. She never appeared without railing, Though 'twas irony all, there's no veiling That quite ,?ftw#-hearted was she. Of course, many suitors Love's doom came to meet : First, hopping on one leg along Wat- ling-street, The Monument sought his affection to show, But she soon sent him back by the way of Budge-row ; " Forcarrotty locks," says she, " rot 'em, I hate any one that has got !em, And I know you are base at the bot- tom — No Billingsgate hero for me." Next the Royal Exchange, after wash- ing his face. Came and thought of displaying a very clear case. He boasted his wealth, and the kings that he knew, And of old Gresham's lectures he read her a few ; But says she, "You are past all endurance, By your fool's cap and bells you're a poor dunce, Though your face is a badge of From off the tan-pit's side, 'Till book was burnt, and entries all, ' For now/ says he, * all's over, You next may seek, at duty's call, To exchequer honest Rover.' And thus, of all accounts bereaved, Poor Dipstick wailed his case ; For though, 'tis true, his life was saved, Alas ! he lost his place. God prosper, &c. THE SHORT MAN, Air. — The Irish Duel. SWEET gentlefolks, pray list to me, I'll not detain you long ; For as I am but short, you see, Why short shall be my song. Our joys are short, and short our life, And short should be delay. So 1 espoused a nice short wife, All on the shortest day. Fal lal lal la, &c. So short our courtship was, I vow, So soon her heart I caught, Says I, ' My dear,' and made a bow, * We'll cut the matter short ; I've known you only three short days, Will you my spousee be 1 If not, I'll shortly go my ways.' * No, don't, my love,' says she. Fal lal lal la, &c. The church was but a short way off, In short, the knot was tied, Midst many a laugh, and jeering scoff, At me and my short bride ; Our honeymoon was shortly o'er, My ears with noise soon rung, I wished my wife, like many more, Had got a shorter tongue. Fal lal lal la, &c. Short reck'i ungs will long friendships bind, Pray, note the buck, so gay, His memory's short, you'll often find, When long bills are to pay ; Their short-cake clients lawyers pose, In their queer short-hand way ; Pedestrians, with short repose, Wili walk both night and day. Fal lal lal la, &c. •Shortsighted we must all appear, If we would stylish be ; For though an object be quite near, We can't, without this, see. A s hort-cut road to fame, we know, Have Britons often found. In cutting short the daring foe, On this or foreign ground. Fal lal lal la, &c. VALENTINE'S DAY. Air. — In a Post-office bred. OH ! this is the day when, for love's mighty fray, All are armed with pens, paper, and ink ; Cook, housemaid, and John, the goose- quill seise upon, And of nothing but valentines think. Full of darts, flaming hearts, Cupids, Hymen, I shall die, man ; Doves so true, billet doux, Churches, rings, funny things ; Pretty flowers, shady bowers ; Some with fruit in, Cupid shooting, Love in roses, scratched noses ; Razor, rope, no hope ; Pop your brains for your pains ; Such variety like Noah's ark had, You would think, sir, I vow, Could you see 'em all now, The folks in this world were all stark mad. Spoken.'] This is the day for slaugh- ter ; Cupid mows 'em down by dozens: every thing in the shape of a valen- tine is in requisition, from three-pence to half-a-guinea ; from the painted heart to the gilded doves : there is as much gold-leaf consumed as would gild the cupola of St. Paul's. Stamped paper, bleeding hearts, gilded darts, and such verses ! oh ! ye gods ! such verses ! The postman wears out two or three extra pairs of shoes : and the stationer is up to his eyes in We. Mr, COMIC SONGS. 215 +B**++++0++*++**4-+++++r+++r++++*r+r++++*++++++r++++++++*+**+++*++++»+++» Foolscap, I want a valentine, a very Bretty one. Yes, ma'am, directly, [ere, John, take these six dozen of valentines to the boarding-school. Yes, sir. 1 zay, muster, I wonts a wolun- tine, an let's hae a good un, 'cause I wonts to send it down to my Doll, her wot lives at 'Squire Thingum- bob's Here's a very pretty one, sir, Ay, that ere'll do ; now you must write the connection on it for un. This ere's for Dolly Dumpling, as lives zarvant at 'Squire Tallyho's, in Dorzetshire ; ha ye put it all right now ? Quite right, sir. Are ye zure on it. Yes, sir. That's all right ; law ! law ! how Doll will grin and colour up. If you please, sir, I want a quire of gilt paper, embossed, half a hundred of pens, and a pint of ink, and then I'll send valentines to all my sweethearts. Thus you see there's each kind, and food for the mind, To be picked up on "Valentine's Day. Some folks write to quiz, and others there is Who send them their love to declare ; In hopes of an answer their hearts all day dance, sir, But if they get none, how they stare. Butchers, bakers, undertakers, Soldiers, sailors, tinkers, tailors, Grocer, hum, sir, worth a plum, sir ; Monkeys, pigs, funny rigs, Old maids, sorry jades, Devil's imp, Mr. Gimp, Clerk, dandy, drops ot brandy, Short and tall, fat, lean, and all, Oh ! dear, what a comical scene, oh ! You would lift up your eyes, And cry with surprise, "What the deuce can this nonsense all mean ? oh ! Spoken.] Oh ! laws, Sally, I'se got a woluntine from John. Has you ? Oh, my! vhat does he say? Oh! it says, sich a pretty one, it says, Dear Zally, I do luve you trew, And dosent not no wot to du, And if as how you'll marre me ; "Why then yew no I'll marre yee ; So please to send me bock a line, .From yevv're trew varth onle wol- lingtine. Well, that is pretty ; do you mean to answer it, Sally? Oh, yes to be sure. The butcher began to cut up with a vengeance. The cobbler to peg away . The fishmonger to rub his gills. The tailor burnt his fingers with his goose. The publican got in spirits. The tal- low-chandler zvaxed warm. The ba- ker burnt his own batch. The milk- man turned white. The wine-mer- chant sour. The tinker couldn't mus- ter brass enough. The cook upset the dripping pan. The housemaid a pail of water over the best carpet. The butler a dozen of wine. The footman the dinner-table, besides other mishaps and only at the rap of the postman, because it isValentine's Day. Oh, la! Miss Rosebud, have you had a valentine? Oh, yes, and such a beau- ty ; and, do you know, I think it's come from Augustus. Ah ! well, you're always lucky ; why I have not had one. (aside. J How vexing; I could tear my eyes out for spite ; but she was always forward; how- ever, she'll repent it some of these days. Have you had an answer, Mr. Finikin ? No ; 1 have not, 'pon ho nour, my dear fellow ; quite disap- pointed. Have you? Oh, yes; an execrable one, a Jack -ass, dressed in the height of the fashion. Shocking ! Thus you see some are teazed, and some they are pleased, Because it is Valentine's Day. SWEET MISTER, RIGHT! Air. — Mistress Goose. I AM an old woman, though still fond of mirth, For why should we grieve while we linger on earth ; The young girls all seek me, to talk and to write, For their sweet billet-doux I advise and indite. Spoken.'] Yes, and a pretty medley of friends I have, too ; and it's often very carious to hear the conversation. First comes one : — O my dear Goody, I think, really, if a man was to ask me to marry him that I'd tear his eyes out!— That would be a pity, my dear, for then hecou'dn't see your beauty ! Beauty, indeed, la ! if he or any of them was to call me beautiful, I should be ready to faint.— (Yes, I'll be sworn you would, said I to - 216 COMIC SONGS. myself, with vanity.) But, child, child, come to me in a few months, and then I'll tell you what to do. — Two months passed, and in comes the young lady again. — Ah! my dear Goody, says she, how d'ye do 1 ? — Well, my dear, says I, how do you get on 1 — Why, heigho ! I don't know. — Well, what's the matter?— Why, really then, to tell you the truth, I've met such a nice young man, and I do love him so. — A young man, forsooth! why I thought you told me that you hated the whole sex : — Yes, Goody, but then I had not seen Mr. Right! Mr. Right! Oh, sweet Mr. Right ! The girls find they're wrong when they find Mr. Right. There's some love the young, and the young love the old, There's some love for love, and some love for gold. Many pretty young girls get hold of a fright. And all their excuse is — I've found Mr. Right. Spoken.} Well, really, I hate boys, says a staid, elderly-looking lady, I could never countenance one in my life. — Well, that's curious, my dear miss, for you've got a pretty goou face too. — Boys, indeed, rather say young puppies ; no, Goody, give me a man of thirty, sensible, discerning ; that's the person for my money.— Well, a twelvemonth passes, and I meet this staid, elderly lady leaning on the arm of a boy of nineteen. — Aye, Goody, says she, how d'ye do? I have the pleasure of introducing my husband to you 1 — Husband ! W hat, that boy 1 why, I thought you detested boys. — A3 7 e, but, Goody, then 1 had not met Mr. Right! Mr. Right! Oh, sweet, &c. Thus they teazed and perplexed me with tales o'er and o'er, Till, finding them smoke, why, I'll hear them no more ; Though many who scoffed me now quarrel and fight, And are sorry that ever they met Mr. Right. Spoken.'] Ah ! well-a-day ! the girls, now-a-days, find beaus so scarce that they're glad to jump at the first offer ; and then are ready to jump off the Monument for accepting it; and all the excuse they can make for their folly is, Mr. Right ! Mr. Right ! Oh, sweet Mr. Right, &c. INDEX FIRST LINES. A. A prime cook, my masters and * servants am I 128 Adoo and farewell to this wile smoky town 116 A woman is like to — but stay 119 A short farewell to smoke and noise 120 At the peaceful midnight hour 325 An assembly ball delight of all ib. As the guests high or low at Meurice's 126 An obstinate man had a scold for hhiwife 129 Away with [these poor married fellows 143 A vorthy cit von Vitsunday- • • • 123 A charming girl was Peggy Tart 111 Atthe sign of the Whistle and Wig 109 At a village in Kent, as I have heard tell ■ « 134 A wanton widow old and sour 135 A master I have, and I am his man ib, A landlady of France she lov'd an officer 'tis said 115 A traveller stopped at a widow's gate 130 A cobler I am, and my name h Dick Awl 140 At Cork there lived a brazier • • • • 113 A cobler there was, and he lived in a stall, 153 A little old woman her living got 154 Around the face of blue-eyed Sue 155 A queer little man, very " how came you so," ib, A soldier and a sailor once* • • • 159 All the world's a stage, says the poet, 166 A maiden sure there was, she was ugly, old, and tough- • • -182 A captain bold in Halifax, that lived in country quarters 159 At dawn of day, when other folks 148 Away with melancholy - ■ 173 As Cupid one day, full of frolic and play 43 A beggar 1 am, and of low degree 44 A gentleman once I'd a train of my own 49 About the day I was born though it was late at night* 79 Arra.hu what a big to$e**bad the bold Captain Noraghan 83 A maiden there liv' d in a large market town . • • » 5i INDEX. Although a country clown I be 92 A hungry fox one day did spy 184 An old maid sat by the fire side 191 A comical lass I went to woo 194 Adown a green valley there lived an old maid 195 A'nt 1 the pink of the ball 46 Arrah ! now Pat, sure it's where have you been- - 100 As a poor donkey lay, on a sun- shiny day 5 At a village near London fam'd city 14 A Blacksmith you'll own is so clever 54 A story there runs of a marvelous well ib. A story I'm going to tell ye 28 A tailor who cabbaged, as tailors will do 37 A lawyer, quite famous for mak- ing a bill 22 A jolly -faced parson once hap- pened to pop ' 33 A Bachelor leads an easy life ■ -• -43 A watchman I am, and I know 54 all the round A scholar one time, tho' I can't tell you when 56 At the sign of the Horse, old Spin- text of course 64 A man was born one day 65 An actor's a comical dog! 66 At Dunmow there's a flitch of ba- con 71 A little old woman was taken ill 73 A cit much distress'd ib. An odd fellow's a fellow of whim 136 Born on shore was I, 1 Baron Donder-dronk dickdorf said one summer's day, 3 Billy Crow loved Miss Vatson a girl to his mind 7 Biddy Prim an old Maid, kept a chandlers shop 19 Ben was a hackney coachman rare 36 Billy Shakespeare told us long ago 37 Believe me, believe me, in coun- try or town 40 Barney Bodkin broke his nose 176 Be it known to all those whoso- e'er it regards 61 By trade I am a turner 2 C. Come, bustle, neighbour Sprig 114 Come l you are ail invited 160 Come lads the night-coach is _, ready, 170 Come, measter, I be's going to „ sing •. . 171 Come, come, look about, there is no time to lose, £05 Come come, my good masters, what's all this about 210 Come my lovey, get the cash 208 Come, bustle neighbours, pray 32 Come all ye blades both high and low 67 Come, Roger, and 1 isten to where I have been 45 Come young men and maidens and likewise your dads 80 Come give us thy hand, lass 88 Come listen my friends to an odd dog's new story 94 D. Dear Judy at last has gi'en the kind yes 107 Dear doctor be clever, and fling off your beaver 188 Did you ever hear of Captain Wattle 48 Deserted by declining day 3 Dicky Dolus sick of strife - • • • 36 F. Four-and -twenty lord mayor's shows, all of a row 146 Fashion's all fiddle-de-dee • • • • 139 Four-and-twenty tradesmen all of a row 12S Four score and ten of us 160 Fruit Woman. — Cherries ripe, cherries ripe, ripe I cry 166 Four-and-twenty actors all of a row 169 From noise and bustle far away hard work my time employ- ing 76 From Bank, 'Change, Mansion- house, Guildhall 82 Friends I'll tell you what is true 30 First Norman Will made Britons feel 23 For a wife 1 have tried very oft you must know 97 Farmers Marco and Pedro • • ■ • 2 G. Gaffer Grist, Gaffer's son, and his little Jack-ass 180 Good folks to Lunnun 1 be come 107 Good folks 1 have set up an ho- nest and fair house 139 God prosper long our noble selves 213 Give Isaac the nymph who no beauty can boast 41 Good morrow Miss Biddy pray how do you do 96 II. Here am I so gay, I hope to make you merry 189 Here's health to the ladies at hame 86 Hurrah ! for an Irish stew — • ^100 His worship Justice Gander sworn newly of the peace 58 I. I'll marry my sweetheart ••• • 156 I'm a clown, you may tell by my phiz, 158 I've been shopping — I've been shopping 161 It was one dusky eve 105 I sing, 1 sing of good times older 118 It was one winter's day about six in the morn 130 In a post-office bred, what a life sure 1 led 141 I peep'd in the Grand Seraglio 147 I'm a very knowing prig ib. I went to school with Joel Squint 167 In a busy public-house, 176 la a village there lived an old maid 177 I've just dropp'd in to make a call, 1 hope I don't intrude now, 163 I was born one day 186 I'm an old one on the town • • • • 197 In verses new, and all in rhyme, sirs, 202 If pleasure you vould know then travel by the mail, sir • • - • 209 In a nobleman's fami'y dwelt 211 In the Strand lived Snip 184 In London once dwelt near the end of Cheapside 212 In Dyot-street there liv'd a maid 40 1 ve often heard Will's wife declare 2 I am an old woman, though still fond of mirth S I'll tell you of a party who were going up to Twickenham I after beauty always seek I've carried arms through lands afar I'm a constable true you must know In Dublin town with great renown If the world and its measures in all things were just It chanced one. day that a Crow so black I'll sing you a song of a daring blade I'll sing you a song about wants I'm an auctioneer so natty, gay and spruce In the conjugal chains firmly tied I'll sing you a song my good friends if you'll lend an ear Ikey Moses is my name I'm a bill-sticker, so famous I suppose you ail know at the back of the Bank I knew by the smoke that so greasefully fully curled- • • • I'm parish clerk and sexton here I'm odd in my manners, and odd is my song I was called knowing Joey by the lads of our town I'm a broker by trade I'm very fond of fish If you'l! list a story to .you I'll develope If you will list I vow, sirs* ••••»■ 111 91 93 101 ib. 8 ib. 14 18 24 J. Johnny the footman a nice young blade 8 Jerry Twist was a tailor by trade 16 John Heeltap was a cordwainer 108 John Appleby was a man's name , and he lived near the sign of the Kettle i29 Jem Vest a tailor spruce and neat 196 K. Kitty Maggs was a servant to 355 , Farmer Styles, King Arthur once said to his Queen quite delighted • • • 10 IV INDEX. Leave, neighbours, your work, and to sport and to play,* • • '207 London tradesmen, 'tis plain, at no roguery stop 117 Love in season, like sneezing. • • -131 Lords? how bright to day, up be- fore light to day • • • • 132 Let bucks and let bloods to praise London agree 51 Living a bachelor is not life • • • «138 M. My name is Gaby Glum 211 My name's Sam Snateh a grab 163 d'ye see 163 Many chapters I've read, of folks fashions, and kings, 172 Mrs. Waddle was a widow, and she got no little gain;.-.' 157 Miss Fiddlestick's-end was a sweet pretty maid • « 210 My name's Levi Lyon, a good natured Jew 43 Miss Margery Muggins she was a fair maid, 49 Mister. Leary slipp'd into this world at Killarney 99 My father he lived in Limerick town 103 My name is Major Longbow* • • ♦ 11 My daddy to my mammy said 25 Men milliners, dandified beaus — • 15 'My wife she is a wonder quite 31 Mistress Runnington wore a wig 46 My fey ther kept a little farm* •_• • 105 Merry Proteus of old, as by Ovid we're told 112 Man, man, man, is for the woman made 116 Miss Bridget Adair liv'd up one pair of stairs 138 Many ladies,, they say • • 142 Mr. Fog he conducted a chandler's shop « .-..• Ill My fishmonger he swore that his soles were most dear 131 My name's Jemmy Green ; many wisits I've paid • 143 Miss Wigley her ; lovers call'd first of the fair 52 Mrs. Bridget lov'd a man, yet all cruel was he ......... -v- • 53 Mister Sim kin liv'd at Leeds, anci he had a wif*r beside 63 Mr. Dip, tallow-chandler 136 My name's Justice Quorum, I'm lord of this village 66 March ! march ! Cripplegate Horsleydown 76 Major Macpherson herv'd a sigh 158 N. No Signor Willibald 40 Now for mirth and recreation 50 Now a. bumper of wine come fill,! \ fill around 87 Ned Cleaver was a slaughterman with such a killing way • • • • 162 Near Southwark-Bridge, on the Surrey-side 177 Now l'ze a Devonshire boy • • • • 73 O. Och! Ireland the place is for Grecians and graces 95 O when I was born says old Mother Goose 96 Oh ! the greaf.Mogul call'd Babor 98 Oh, say not life is dearly bought 4 Oh, my Sukey Le Grand Ten- ducci 11 O I will get wed in a trice • • • • 16 Once on a v time when trade was bad 21 Of a nation of generals, noble and great 24 O ! I am a physical snob 27 Our immortal poet's page says that all the world s a stage 144 Oh ! 'twas Dermot O'Rowland M'Figg 109 Oh ! what a town, what a won- derful metropolis 116 Oh ! what a story the papers have been telling us 137 O, the face of brave Captain Ma- gan 44 Och ! Judy dear creature she has won my soul 77 Oh ! no, I never name my wife 86 O ! Love's such a comical thing, folks say 87 Oh, here I be a country lad • • • • 88 Oh, leave the inns, the courts of law 95 Oh ! ladies these men are enough to madden us * 187 Oh! London's such a charming place • - • 192 Old father Macshane he was holy __ and fat H**fc»# 195 INDEX. Oh ! 'tis love, 'tis love, tis love 209 Oh ! this is the day when, for love's mighty fray 214 Oh ! long life to the girls that re- vive without pother 71 Oh, what a row, what a rumpus and a rioting, 174 One morn,- whilst 1 was brewing 175 P. Poor Gaby Grub a courting went 14 Princess Helen was born of an egg 35 Poor negro say one ting you no take offence 55 S. Sickly dotage to restrain ■ • 39 Since companies daily obtain- • • • 17 Since cast-iron has got all the rage 2C Says Buttock one day to his wife 91 Since Ted o'er the bog has taken a jog 104 Smoke ! smoke ! London and Westminster 107 Sir Gooseberry Gimcrack was thin, 1(54 Sir Solomon Simons, when he first did wed, 168 Said a steak to a chop 180 Single poets, at their ease, ••• • ib. Since Life in London's all the go 181 Sweet gentlefolks, pray list to me 214 Standing one summer's day on the Tower slip 57 Says the parson of the parish, all rosy his gills 68 Tho' a barber I am not asham'd of my trade, 41 The spruce Mr. Clark 44 They call me smirking Bobby 47 'Twas on a windy night* ••."... 78 'Tis a very queer thing I am going to sing 85 There my cat'", meat lass no one can surpass 90 'Twas late one night I'm told 99 There was a very nice young wo- man 7 They're all washing, wash — wash — washing • 12 'Till I fell in love, I wur happy enow 12 'Twas Judy Shee 13 'Tis a comical ditty J sing 21 There is no peace about the house 32 To set up a village with tackle for tillage 33 'Twas on the spot where St. Giles's pound once stood 34 There was a merry widow, and she was very fat 118 The lamps are faintly gleaming, love 182 'Twas on Christmas-day 183 They may talk of their pleasures of concert and ball 195 There was an old chap in the West country 201 The world full of wonders is grown 202 The frost was very hard, and the coals were very dear 203 To the muses dramatic I'm akin 204 The head-ache, tormenting, oh, dear 206 This is the time, the season ibr a mill, or Jight 145 The tide it will serve, and the weather is fine 149 The forum for fun and variety 151 The clock had struck one, Mr. Jones went to bed, 178 'Tis curious to find in this over grown town, 179 There were two torn cats on a wall 53 There was a man tho' it's not very common 59 The Nightingale club in a village was held 62 Thinks I to myself, thinks 1 63 There was an ancient fair and she lov'd a neat young man* • - • 74 This morning very handy 71 To his sons cried old Gripe 35 V. Vat ish vomans ven you try her? 9 Very near the west end, though 1 must not tell where, 198 Verily, ah how my heart keepeth bumping, igo W. When 1 was a poy, and I did go to school 12c VI INDEX. When I was a boy, and a pretty littte.boy 42 When our Mayor, Lord bless him whose former delight 48 Walk, walk, Hyde Park and Bond street, Sir 77 Woman's eye is the meteor fling- ing 84 What an overgrown place is this London, O dear ib. Will you go to Bagnigge Wells bonnet builder, O 103 What a shocking world is this for scandal 4 When up from boyhood first I grew 22 When birds, beasts, and fishes could talk 25 When a woman looks askance ■ • • • 33 With spirits gay I mount the box the tits up to their traces 153 While some roar out " the Dog's Meat Man," 154 Who's for Brighton, the Coach is just starting, 164 We've chang'd with pantomimic art and think it not a mockery 166 What's all the world to me ! 169 When I comes to town with a load of hay 181 When first I went 184 Would you see the world in little 185 When winter is over • ib. With'spirits, then. Dickey mounts since all are in their places 206 Will you buy any tape 71 When gooseberries grow on the stem of a daisy 55 When I was a younker, says fey- ther to 1 • 67 When I was a younker and liv'd with my dad 69 Why how now, Madam flirt 71 Your sarvant, I'm come to relate 190 You ask for a song, and my muse it now dwells • - 193 You call me Mr. Pry 199 Ya, hip; for Goldfinch there make wa}', 200 Young Ben he was a nice young man, 172 Yea, 1 fell in the pit of love. ♦ • • 207 Young Bodkin was a tailor bold 4 You've heard of one Gen'ral Matbeth 19 Ye lovers behold a por maiden forlorn 29 You may talk of sweet passion, and wishing and wooing 47 You've heard Mr. Nicholas say of his Julia 78 You've heard of a frog in an opera hat 7Q Books Published by J. Fairburn ONE SHILLING EACH. THE GORDIAN KNOT, a collection of Ingenious Puzzles, Conundrums, Enigmas, Charades, Anagrams, Rebusses, &c. with a Frontispiece of 61 Puzzles. 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