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With shillings in a merchant's shop,
He told me plainly all was stopt.
Then through spite I popped in,
Into a shop that sold good gin,
I called for a glass to cheer my spirits,
How I came off, you'd laugh to hear it;
To pay the same it was my lot,
I offered such as I had got,
But the landlord plainly told me,
He'd not accept of one babee.
I was ashamed you may be sure,
So hastily took to the door,
I promised to return and pay,
But fair he'll weary for that day.
I being hungry heard one cry,
'Tis who will buy my good warm pyes,
instead of two, was offered three,
But he would not take one babee.
Of such he told me he had plenty,
Nor would he give a pye for twenty.
O what the devil must we do
To want meat and has money too.
