Page:That's the real dandy.pdf/3

 For she, the child, had lost her feet,

To every person she did meet,

Cry'd that s the real Dandy.

A chimney sweeper heard the fnn

As he through the street for foot did ran,

Crying, fire and smoke, we’re all undone,

By drinking stout at Brandy.

A Beggar l am, of low degree,

For I’m of a begging family,

I'm lame, but when in a fighting 'bout

I whip off my leg and fight it out;

In running I leav: the beadle behind

And a laſe I can ſee, tho'alas! I am blind

Through town and village I gaily jog,

My music, the bell of my little clog.

I’m cloth’d in rags,

I’m hung with bags,

That around me wags;

I’ve a bag for my salt

A bag for my malt

A bag for the eg of a goose

For my oats a bag.

For my groats a bag. And a bottle to hold my booze:

It's now heaven bleſs you for your charity,

And then puſh the can about, fol de roldere.

Bleſs your noble honor, and your good lady,