The soldier talks of battle, The grazier sells his cattle, While the company's lost in smoke. (Spoken.)-Upon my soul, neighbour, I had no hand in the death of your wife; it was all in the way of business. Nay, but Doctor, 'twere a cursed unneighbourly thing of you, not that the woman were any sitch great things, but to put a body to sitch an expense.-Why you don't tell me so! killed fifteen with your own hand: Fifteen, by my laurels! D'ye hear that, butcher? Hear it, yes; but I'll lay'n what he dares he has not killed so many as I have by hundreds.-Powder my whiskers.-Come, come gentlemen, says the Bellows-maker, no breezes. Let me exhort you to temperance, says the Parson.-Amen, says the Clerk.-That's right, says the Undertaker, let us bury all animosities.-That's what I like, says the Fiddler, I like to see harmony restored-D'ye tho'? you like to see harmony restored! Why, then, here's to you, Mr. Wiggins, So put the beer about, &c. ALLISTER M'ALLISTER. O Allister M'Allister, Your chanter sets us a' astir, Then to your bags, and blaw wi birr, Now Allister has tun'd his pipes, And gather on the green. O Allister M'Allister, &c. The miller, Hab, was fidgin-fain As round about the ring he whuds, O Allister M'Allister, &c. Neist rackle-handed smiddy Jock, He shook his doublet in the wund, Now wanton Willie was nae blate, O Allister M'Allister, &c. Now Allister has done his best, Wi' dancin' sae, I ween: I true the gantrees gat a lift, And round the bicker flew like drift, And Allister, that very night, Could scarcely stan' his lane. O Allister M'Allister, &c. MOGGY ADAIR. WHAT'S all the world to me? Desert and bare! Moggy won'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 boil'd nice dumplins nine? Moggy Adair! Who, when they all were done, Eat 'em up every one, (0, cruel) Moggy Adair! But now thou'rt cold to me, False, I declare! WHEN I was at home with my father and mother, But ould father Murphy, our parish director, With your toorle lol, toorle lol, toorle lol loo, My Judy I lov'd, and oft gave her a kiss, With your toorle lol, &c. I was going, but ould father Murphy cried, Stay, BEGGARS AND BALLAD SINGERS. THERE's a diff'rence to be seen 'twixt a beggar and a queen, And I'll tell you the reason why, The queen she cannot swagger, nor get drunk like a beggar, Nor be half so happy as I, as I; Nor be half so happy as I (Spoken.)-Now, you see, I'll tell you my reason whyThe queen is obliged to support a dignified station, which I takes to be cursedly troublesome; now I can change shapes as often as I please, and when I choose to leave off being a gemman, why I can give you a touch of the blackguard; moreover, d'ye see, I'm a bit of slight-of-hand man, and deals in legerdemain, hocus pocus, and such like. To be sure, I seldom talks about honesty, and that kind of stuff, for that's nothing more than Fol lol de riddle, &c. Like a sailor from the wars, cover'd over with scars, When I choose in that character to beg, With my knuckles held so flat, and in 'tother arm my hat, And thus I contract up my leg, my leg. (Spoken.)-Look down with an eye of pity on an unfortunate seaman. I lost my precious leg with gallant Nelson, God bless him! and I value the loss of my pin no more than a bit of old mouldy biscuit. My starboard arm I lost in action soon, And my larboard leg on the glorious first of June; (Spoken.)-Fire a shot a-stern, my worthy master; spare a With a hump on my back people's charity I sack, With a snuffle in my nose, I their feelings discompose, |