To tell where I've been,

Or what fair ones I've seen, In places where I my abode took, I'm sure it would fill

A chancery-bill,

Or as long be as Paterson's Road-book,
First at Acton and Ealing,
Their faces I'm peeling;

At Illchester and Dorchester,
And Chichester and Porchester,
At Woolwich and Highgate,
And Dulwich and Reigate,
At Beckingham and Oakingham,
And Buckingham and Rockingham,
At Brummagem

I rummage 'em,

At Deptford and Hampton,
And Bedford and Bampton,
At Harlow and Charmouth,
And Marlow and Yarmouth,
At Dartford and Darking,
And Hartford and Barking,
At Wor'ster and Chester,
And Glo'ster and Leicester,
At Teddington and Amersham,
And Holyhead and Riverhead,
Maidenhead and Leatherhead,

In chaise and four I've rattled off to Daventry,
And many is the time I've been sent to Coventry.

To this list let me add, and the vanity pardon,
I've made many a fair one smile in famous Govent
Garden,

Where some are smirking, some jerking,
Some crummy, some gummy,
Eves askew, noses blue,

Sallow cheek made so sleek,
'Bove all commendation my trade is;
Smiling face, prat a-pace,
Tell the news, all amuse,
Aim to show what's the go;
That's the way, now a-day,
To shine as a man for the ladies,

The Cobler and Goose.

A COBLER liv'd at York,
And a merry man was he;
His wife took in needlework,
And a good kind soul was she :
As easy as an old shoe

They spent their days together,
AH of a piece, 'tis true,

Like sole or upper-leather.

(Spoken.) Hey, they were a very happy couple, they work'd hard and never grumbled, and that's a great thing to say in our days; she applied herself nimbly with her needle, and he hammer'd away upon his lapstone, singing

Ran tan tan tantary, &c.

This cobler bought a goose,
And fatted it quite high,
Somehow the bird broke loose
The day it was to die:
"Hey! Peggs!" cried out his wife,
And thought the goose he'd win her,
The goose she ran for her life,
And the cobler for his dinner.

(Spoken.) Away he went, and all the little boys and girls in the town after him.-Now cobler; now goose!-Two to one on Peggs! Three to one the goose distance him!-He had nearly caught her once, but his foot slip'd, and headlong he went into a pigsty, where there was an old sow and a litter of pigs, and he only just sav'd his bacon by leaving the laps of his jacket in the old sow's grinders; but, however, this didn't daunt Jerry, up be starts and away he ran, singing

Ran tan tan, &c.

By the river he seiz'd her rump,
And she got loose with a scream;
He fell in the water plump,

But the goose she cross'd the stream.
So finding the chase no use,

He return'd home in a shiver,
Told his wife he'd lost the goose,
But got a fine DUCK in the river.

(Spoken.) Oh, wife, wife, I've had my morning's wet! The goose is gone a gander hunting; I've left part of my jacket in pawn in the pigery; my wild goose chase has provid a duck, but no

green pease, and as I am very cold and wet, you may as well hand me over a sup of your

Ran tan tan, &c.

The Parson and Quaker.

A JOLLY fac'd parson once happen'd to pop, Into Cymon Pure's plain-dealing every-day shop,

To look out a hat that wou'd just fit his nob,
But his Rev'rence found that a most difficult job.
Derry down, down derry down.

He look'd and he tried-still laying them down, For he had found none yet big enough for his crown; At last he squeez'd one on-it fitted him pat, "Now," says he, "Mr. Pure, what's the price of this hat?"

Cymon turn'd round the hat 'fore his cream colour'd face,

"Four and ninepence," said he, and a hum fil'd the space;

"Four and ninepence!" cried black coat, and turn'd the hat o'er,

"By my God, I ne'er gave so much money before.

The Quaker cried, "Parson, thou'rt in a bad way, We people ne'er swear but by good yea and nay;

We never make mention of God's holy name." "By God," cried the Parson," then you 're much to blame."

"Umph," said the Quaker, “art 'sure this is true? If thou speakest next sunday I'll come near thy pew,

And if thou to the people will swear plain and flat, By good yea and nay, why, I'll give thee the hat."

The Parson agreed, as for good Sunday next,
And his Quakership went, just to hear this bad text;
In the aisle's vacant centre he took up his place,
And star'd his fat Reverence full in the face.

There he stood, like a post, without moving a limb, With his vinegar face, and his great broad hat brim; For the whole congregation O this was rare fun, For he ne'er stir'd one bone till the Parson begun.

"By God," said the Parson, "we live and we

move,

By God we have feeling, and pleasure, and love." The Quaker then hearing him speak it so pat, Cried out," By the God, I have lost my good hat."

Went to Sea again.

"TWAS in the good ship Rover
I sail'd the world around,

And for three years and over
I ne'er touch'd British ground.