Musa Pedestris - Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes [1536 - 1896] Part 34

MISS DOLLY TRULL [Notes]

[1842]

[By PIERCE EGAN in _Captain Macheath_].

I

Of all the mots in this here jug, [1]

There's none like saucy Dolly; And but to view her dimber mug [2]

Is e'er excuse for folly.

She runs such precious cranky rigs With pinching wedge and lockets [3]

Yet she's the toast of all the prigs Though stealing hearts and pockets.

II

Just twig Miss Dolly at a hop-- [4]

She tries to come the graces! [5]

To gain her end she will not stop And all the swells she chases.

She ogles, nods, and patters flash [6]

To ev'ry flatty cully [7]

Until she frisks him, at a splash [8]

Of rhino, wedge, and tully. [9]

[1: women; prison]

[2: pretty face]

[3: stealing plate]

[4: see; dance]

[5: act]

[6: talks slang]

[7: susceptible fellow]

[8: robs; entirely]

[9: money]

THE BY-BLOW OF THE JUG [Notes]

[1842]

[By PIERCE EGAN in _Captain Macheath_].

I

In Newgate jail the jolly kid was born-- [1]

Infamy he suck'd without any scorn!

His mammy his father did not know, But that's no odds--Jack was a by-blow!

Foddy, loddy, high O.

II

Scarcely had Jack got on his young pins, [2]

When his mammy put him up to some very bad sins, And she taught him soon to swear and lie, And to have a finger in every pie.

Foddy, loddy, high O.

III

His mammy was downy to every rig,-- [3]

Before he could read she made him a prig; [4]

Very soon she larn'd Jack to make a speak And he toddled out on the morning sneak [5]

Foddy, loddy, high O.

IV

Jack had a sharp-looking eye to ogle, [6]

And soon he began to nap the fogle! [7]

And ever anxious to get his whack-- When scarcely ripe, he went on the crack. [8]

Foddy, loddy, high O.

V

"Now, my chick," says she, "you must take the road 'Tis richer than the finest abode, For watches, purses, and lots of the gold-- A scampsman, you know, must always be bold." [9]

Foddy, loddy, high O.

VI

His mother then did give Jack some advice, To her son a thief, who was not o'er nice; Says she--"Fight your way, Jack, and stand the brunt, You're of no use, my child, without the blunt, [10]

Foddy, loddy, high O."

VII

"Then keep it up, Jack, with rare lots of fun.

A short life, perhaps, but a merry one; Your highway dodges may then live in fame, Cheat miss-Fortune, and be sure to die game."

Foddy, loddy, high O.

VIII

"In spite of bad luck, don't be a grumbler; If you are finished off from a tumbler! [11]

But to the end of your life, cut a s.h.i.+ne, You're not the first man got into a line."

Foddy, loddy, high O.

[1: child]

[2: feet]

[3: accomplished;]

[4: thief]

[5: round for theft]

[6: leer]