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SONGSTER. 91
Tware a gentleman's hand, that were dres't nation
fine,
He'd mista'en his own pocket, and got into mire.
He made a loo boo, and I made him another.
For manners, I fancied were due to each other,
I thou't Pd just look like, if ou't were to wors.
For my brass it were all in a new leather purse;
When I found it were gone, I thou't I were dead,
Sik a queer sort of dizziness coom'd e ma head.
Had I known his tricks Pd gee him a drilling,
He stole ho'f a crown, and ma Queen Anne's new
shilling.
But Lunnun's t' pleace where the devil do reign.
And that must have been him, or Pm sadly mista'en.
I got rarely bang'd up too, how I'll tell if I may.
Or sing, if you please, in my countrified way.
SONG.
Ee the north, while with fey ther and mother I dwelt
Keitlier hunger, nor hardship, nor sorrow I felt;
Cut they deed, and left poor sister and Jerry,
Now Psc cum'd here, Tse resolved to be merry;
Pll work, and PU sing, all my money I'll save,
If I please in iny pleace, 'tis all that I crave.
As I star'd e the streets, at t' pctures and sliops,
A lass ga ma a nation hard bat e the chops:
I seiz'd upon madam, by gom she was fuddled.
She'd a rare bonny face, if it had not been ruddled;
I never before had seen ou't o' this kind,
For they telTd ma as hoo shoo was bang'd up and
prim'd.
As I wandered auoot, hoo t' lasses all stare.
They titter, and whisper, and bloosh I declare,
I stood near to yan that were dres't very natty.
Shoo tell'd ma reet plump, I were devilish pretty.