Page:British humourist.pdf/5

 Oh dear! oh dear! good gentlefolks may it he said. I’m come here to learn, if any poor bairn Has keen troubled, like me, with his head. My feyther and mither they used to control Fifteen of us bairns, and all red i’ the poll; We all were pratty, and merry as punch, But I were always the pride of the bunch. Oh dear! oh dear! I’m a queer little comical soul. And if you’ll believe me, though I think you may see, I’m the lad with the carroty poll.

Oh dear! oh dear! I fear I shall never get wed; For indeed you must know, wherever I go, They laugh at my carroty head. T’other day I went up to town with young squire, They said that my head would set Lunnon a fire: I see’d pratty women, wi’ cheeks like a rose; I gave one a kiss, but she painted my nose; Oh dear! oh dear! I couldn’t I’m sure, for my soul. Like the touch of her cheek, if I rubbed for a week. Get the red from my carroty poll.

Oh dear! oh dear! a quack in our village one day, He said that he could, and I said that he should, Come and take all my carrots away. So he rubb’d and he scrubb’d till my face went awry, Wi’ some stuff that he called his new patent dye. My hair he turn’d black, and my pockets he drain’d, And I looked like the devil the first day it rain’d. Oh dear! oh dear! I war such a transmogrified soul, For my head were as bald, as a pig that is scall’d, And I longed for my carroty poll.