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They'll tipple like fishes, and prattle like parrots,
And gobble down cakes as a sow will do carrots,
Some with the salmon they there do regale,
But give me beef and ham, and a pot of good ale.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

There's oranges, gingerbread, ribbons and toys,
Here's dolls for your girls, & drums for your boys
Roast pork, beef and ham, they can cut very nice,
If you can find money you must not mind price.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

The ale-houses crowded, you scarce can get in,
Some calling for beer, for cyder and gin,
The landlord laughs in's sleeve, his shoulders he shrugs
He can sell off his bad beer, in's short measur'd mugs.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

Here's the big and the little, the lusty and tall,
Some with plenty of money, and some none at all;
Some diverting of others with abundance of rigs,
Some dance to the fiddles like squeaking pigs.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

When the fair is o'er then homewards they throng,
The lads and the lasses they frisk it along,
Men, women, and children, as home they repair,
They read the new songs they bought at the fair.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

So now I'll conclude this diversion and fun,
Which may be reviv'd when next ——— fair comes:
Some, I doubt, will repent they took no better care,
For perhaps in 9 months they'll remember the fair.
  To my fal de ral, these are the, etc.

GLASGOW,
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1802.