Page:Black-bird songster.pdf/6

6 en Paddy found out a small error on board, The whisky, alas! was gunpowdor.

With sudden explosion he flow o'er the ocean, And high in air sported a leg; Yet instinct prevails, when philosophy fails, So he kept a tight hold of the keg, But Dermont bawled out with a terrible shout, I'm not to be choused, Mr Wiseman; If you do not come down, I'll run into the town, And by St Patrick I'll tell tho Exciseman.

A wee, wee man came to our toun en, Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee; An' lie sang sae sweet, that tho hale o' our men Lap aff their looms the carle to see.

His cap was red, an' his broeks were green, Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee; An' his jacket the shortest that ever was seen, An' tho queerest colour you ever did see.

His noso was as flat as the back o' my han', Fiddledum, faddledum, foe, fee, fee; An' his feet wad hae covered an acre o' lan', Yet his Boots cam' o'er the lid o' his knee.

His e’en were grey without ony white, Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee; An' his teeth were as black as the middle o' night, When the moon has forsaken this countrie.