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 Ah! would she hang herself—bless’d thought!— I’d rev’rence not her frown— She’d die ere I assistance brought, I’d fear to cut her down.

Not long ago fra’ Yorkshire town I comed up by the waggon; And soon in Lunnon war set down At sign o’ George and Dragons But soon fra’ thence I steer’d, d’ye see, O’d uncle’s house to pry out. When a chap corned up and said to me— ‘ Oh !—there you go with your eye out.

Of this, d’ye mind, I took no heed, But to o’d uncle’s past on; When another chap to me, indeed. Comed up just like the last one; He stared at me—I stared at him— Good humour then was nigh out, For wi’ a face he bawled so grim, Oh!—there you go with your eye out.'

If one eye’s out, says I, it’s droll. And to me is unknown, sirs; Put up my hand to find the hole. But found it war not flown, sirs. When a third chap cam wi’ grinning face My patience quite to try out. And bellow’d out wi’ strange grimace, ‘Oh!—there you go with your eye out.’