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And the sailors all, both great and small.
 * Cries, Pat, you will go the devil.

With my, &c.

Some fell upon their bended knees,
 * The ladies fell a-fainting,

But I fell to my bread and cheese,
 * For I always mind the main thing.

Says the sailors, to the bottom you'll go,
 * Says I- I don't care a farthing,

For I paid my passage to Margate you know,
 * And be damned but I'll stick on my bargain.

With my, &c.

The wind did whistle some to sleep,
 * Till we got to the place of landing,

And those that were the most afraid,
 * Were out the ladies handing,

Says I, your clothes feel mighty droll,
 * You surely must have riches,

And for your heart, it don't lie in the right part,
 * It surely must lie in your breeches,

With my, &c.

Then for London I set out,
 * And going along the road, sir,

I met an honest gentleman,
 * Who proved to be a rogue, sir

He cocked a pistol to my head,
 * Close to my very mouth, sir,

Saying-Paddy my boy, I'd have you be smart.
 * In handing out your money, sir.

With my, &c.