Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 4 1886.djvu/363

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FROM STAFFORDSHIRE.
355

For peace and quietness is the best.
Enter in old Bellzebub!
Bellzebub (the Fool, carrying a club and a ladle, a bell tied at his back). Here comes one as never come yet,
With a large head and a little wit.
Although my wit it is so small,
I've got enough to please you all.
Ah, ah, ah, how funny!
All these fine new things and no money!
My name is called Old Bellzebub,
And over my left shoulder I carry a club,
And over my right shoulder a small dripping-pan,
And I call myself a jolly old man.

Sings.
My coat is all pitches and patches,
And when shall I get new?
As I find my old worthy my slaver,
Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true.

Chorus. True, true!
Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true.

I am a jovial tinker,
I've travelled both far and near,
And I never did meet with a singer
Without he could drink some beer.

We can either eat or drink,
Whilst the bells of England tingle;
But if you will give me your chink,
I'll make the ladle jingle.

So I come meddle, come mend your kettle,
I want to make you crazy;
Come double your money and thrible your money,
I want to make you easy.[1]

Open-the-door. Enter in Little Jack Dout!

Jack Dout (with a broom, sweeping).

Here comes Little Jack Dout,
With my brush I'll sweep you all out;

  1. See Folk-Lore Journal, vol. iv. p. 259. The air is No. 2 in Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 651.