4
Here's the vonderful cow that can't live on the land, and dies in the water; the vonderful sun eagle, the hotter the sun, the higher he flies. Billy, run and stuff a blanket in that hole, or the little boys vill peep for nothing. Here! here! valk! valk!—Suppose you think this man's alive; he's no more alive than you are. Now’s your time to see that vonderful vooden Roscius, Mr Punch, for the small charge of one penny;—(Mimicking Punch.)
High down, O down, derry derry down,
What whirligigs of Bartlemy Fair, O.
ANDREW WI' HIS CUTTY GUN.
Blythe, blythe and merry was she,
Blythe was she butt an' ben;
Weel she lo'ed a Hawick gill.
And leugh to see a tappit hen.
She took me in, she set me down,
She hecht to keep me lawin-free;
But, wylie Carlin that she was!
She gart me birl my bawbee.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
I lo'ed the liquor weel eneugh.
But, waes my heart, my cash ran done,
Lang or I had quench'd my drouth,
And laith I was to pawn my shoon!
Blythe, blythe, &c.
