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FREE £ND EASY 
 
 COMIC SONGSTER 
 
 BEING A CHOICE COLLECTION OF 
 
 Amusing, Broadly Burlesque, • Dry, Droll, 
 Humorous, and 
 
 TRULY ORIGINAL SONGS. 
 
 All Adapted to very Popular Airs. 
 
 j! 
 
 1 
 
 . ■ j ; 
 
 . I 
 
 ! 
 
 |! 
 
 NEW- YORK ; ' 
 
 ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, ' 
 
 NO. 13 FRANKFORT STREET. ; 
 
f * ♦ 
 
 •I 
 
 . . -t 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18C4, 
 BY ROBERT M. DE WITT, ^ 
 
 I 
 
 in the Clerk’s Office of the United States District Court, 
 for the' Southern District of New York. 
 
 7/ I ’;;i:7:fou 
 r /• / ;iu i,r .( 'I 
 
 I, 
 
FREE AND EASY 
 
 COMIC SONGSTER 
 
 I Never Mention It. 
 
 Parody on “ Xo. Wc Never Mention Her.” 
 
 Oh ! no, I never mention it, 
 
 The name of apple-pie ; 
 
 My lips are now forbid to taste 
 The once familiar fry. 
 
 To mush and milk they hurry me, 
 
 To ease me when I fret ; 
 
 And when they see me lift the spoon, 
 They think that I forget. 
 
 They hid me seek in crackers stale 
 The charm that doctors see ; 
 
 But should my strength and spirit fail, 
 I’ll never drink black tea. 
 
 ’Tis true a year has passed, since at 
 The table we were met, 
 
 I’ve sat me down to eat and chat. 
 
 Yet how can I forget 1 
 
 They tell me mutton now is poor. 
 
 The leanest of the lean ; 
 
 They hint that lambs are very thin. 
 But I know what they mean. 
 
 Perhaps, like me, poor Betty King 
 Her living may regret : 
 
 But if her appetite’s like mine. 
 
 She never can forget. 
 
6 Free and Easy 
 
 Reply to “ Meet Me by Moonlight Alone.’’ 
 
 [By Miss Pardoe.] 
 
 Meet you by moonlight 'I oh ! no, 
 
 I really can’t do such a thing — 
 
 For scandal, you very well know, 
 
 Is ever too swift on the wing. 
 
 I’m exceedingly subject to cold, 
 
 And I cannot be looking my best. 
 
 If to 5'ou while my heart I unfold, 
 
 I should chance have a pain in my chest. 
 
 Daylight will fully avail 
 
 For all that you have to tell. 
 
 And so you can whisper the tale 
 
 After luncheon, — it strikes me as well. 
 
 Ohf be sure not to ask me again, 
 
 For though dearly your flat’ries ‘I prize, 
 
 I am really obliged to refrain — 
 
 They say its so bad for the eyes. 
 
 My Love She has a Red, Red‘ Nose. 
 
 Parody on “ My Love’s Like a Red, Red Rose.” 
 
 Oh ! my love has got a red, red nose, 
 
 I long to see it soon; 
 
 O ! my love is like the mulberry. 
 
 All covered o’er with bloom. 
 
 As fond as thou, my bonnie lass. 
 
 Of full’ proof gin am‘I ; 
 
 For I will drink- with thee, my dear. 
 And drain the bottle dry. 
 
 I’ll drain -the bottle dry, my’ dear. 
 
 We’ll sing and dance for fun ; 
 
 And if you‘ wish for more, my dear. 
 Why, for it I will run. 
 
Comic Songster. 7 
 
 But I must cut my stick, my love, 
 
 And hop the twi^ ashore, 
 
 And we’ll get drunk again my dear, 
 
 A thousand times or more. 
 
 Will* You trust Me then as Now. 
 
 Parody on “ Will you Love Me Then as Now.” 
 
 While I^m standing at the counter, 
 
 AVith the ready in my fist, 
 
 As I take the I’m needing. 
 
 On my friendship you insist ; 
 
 Say you’ll hook me for the quarter, 
 
 Place the chair and give the how, 
 
 But my circumstances changing. 
 
 Will you trust' me then as now. 
 
 When my pockets once so bulging. 
 
 Hang as loose as loose can he, 
 
 And my outward man all over 
 Shows the weight of poverty ; 
 
 When a change is o’er me stealing. 
 
 Will no change you take, I vow, 
 
 Will the change find you unchanging. 
 
 Will you trust me then as now. 
 
 Money is King. 
 
 Air “ Things I Don’t Like to See.” 
 
 Oh! Money, sweet money is the theme of the play. 
 The poorest of beggars and rich statesmen each 
 day; 
 
 By hook or by crook they look out for the vital. 
 Through Bulwer the author, I came by the title. 
 The poor parish Doctor for his service then begs, 
 Thus money you’ll find puts us first on our legs ; 
 Then, blest with a baby whom you love we’ll sup- 
 pose. 
 
 So the ready will buy it some ready made clothes. 
 
8 Comic Songster. 
 
 Little l)05’a soon grow up to manhood’s estate, 
 Then Money’s the cause of their staj’ing out late ; 
 A word to the ladies, for I cannot do less. 
 
 They are all for the money. Money buys them their 
 dress. 
 
 While some that have consols for their husbands 
 will try. 
 
 Most ready, for ready, soon spent, then good-bye 
 Dear pleasures and frolics, and most things that are 
 rash. 
 
 Are the means to procure and to squander the cash. 
 
 Only get change for a bill, it will soon disappear. 
 You’ll be sure to find wants that will always seem 
 clear ; 
 
 One fact is quite plain, I advise you to seek it, 
 
 If money you have then endeavor to keep it. 
 
 Some doctors will tell 3 "ou, “ if no cure then no pay,” 
 ’Tis easy to promise, don’t believe what they say. 
 The good lawyer’s your friend if cash you have 
 plenty. 
 
 For a debt of ten dollars they get you for twenty. 
 
 Some stupid old fathers are always for saving. 
 Ne’er thinking of comforts, the gold ever craving. 
 While man)'- fond mothers exist uppen tea, 
 
 And ne’er think upon self for their progeny. 
 Now mone)^’s a good thing, and the fact will be 
 found. 
 
 The road is quite easy to make happy all around. 
 The poor wretched gambler all honor subduing. 
 Would repay home and friend in plotting their ruin. 
 
 Get money if you can but abuse not its power, 
 ’Twill give joy to your life, or embitter each hour; 
 Give parties, then soon you’ll findmanj^ a friend. 
 Who will borrow )’our cash if j’ou’ve any to lend; 
 The miser, deluded, to himself quite a pest. 
 
 Still has many warm friends who wish him at rest; 
 Our real wants are but few, make all happy j’ou can. 
 Our bards say ‘^a good man is a real nobleman.” 
 
Comic Songster. 9 
 
 If a rogue buys your vote he’ll sell you in return, 
 
 For gold’s the great master for if^s use we sojourn ; 
 
 ’Twill tempt lovely women, the facts are quite cer- 
 tain. 
 
 But as I’ve been bribed I must keep down the cur- 
 tain. 
 
 This comedy. Money, will teach many a truth. 
 
 Like the “ School for Scandal,” give instruction to 
 youth ; 
 
 When 'Dame Nature and Art human nature unfold, 
 
 Then to Bulwer and Knowles, let’s repay with our 
 gold. 
 
 Courting Sarah’s Mother. 
 
 Air Umbrella Courtship* 
 
 I courted once as nice a girl. 
 
 As any man need sigh for. 
 
 With pouting lips and teeth of pearl. 
 
 That I went mad well-nigh for. 
 
 Her charms, in fact, entranced each sense, 
 I could’nt live without her ; 
 
 For bank stock in throe per cent 
 Sheds golden rays about her. 
 
 Stern relatives all stubbornly 
 Bejected Sarah’s lover; 
 
 Yet oftentimes upon the sly 
 
 We met, ’neath twilight’s cover ; 
 
 And there within that darkened room, 
 
 I swore by love and thunder, 
 
 That nothing save the crack of doom. 
 Should rend our vows asunder. 
 
 One moonless evening fully bent 
 To press my suit yet warmer. 
 
 O’er the back garden wall I went 
 To seek my precious charmer ; 
 
lo Free and Easy 
 
 The casement stood ajar — within 
 The room I dimly spied her, 
 
 Amid the gloom like harlequin, 
 
 I bounded in beside her. 
 
 Then dropping on my knees, a rush 
 Of words each wish expressing, 
 
 ’Tis folly beating round the bush. 
 
 When time and duns are pressing. 
 
 Pour’d from my lips “ Oh, dearest maid,” 
 
 I said, “ Than angel fairer ! ^ 
 
 The boon for which so oft I prayed, 
 
 Grant me this night, sweet Sarah !” 
 
 ‘‘ Your mother scolds, jmur father growls, 
 Your brother swears he’ll flay me. 
 
 But I despise their threats and scowls. 
 
 Your frowns alone would slay me. 
 
 Oh, let me hear thee say I’m thine, 
 
 In whispering tones of honey ; 
 
 I only have your love divine, 
 
 (Though added, and your money.”) 
 
 Come fly with me! and never mind 
 The old folks cruel snarling ; 
 
 They’ll soon come round when e’er they find 
 The knot’s been tied, my darling. 
 
 Just then the door flew open wide, 
 
 And in walked pa and brother ; 
 
 When lights they bore, reveal’d that I’d 
 Been courting Sarah’s mother. 
 
 The Sentimental Cobbler. 
 
 Air Derry Down. 
 
 A cobbler I am and no jobs I refuse, 
 
 I live by the mending of old boots and shoes ; 
 
 I leather my customers, stop broken holes. 
 And am always repairing some very bad soles. 
 
 chorus: — Down, Down, Derry Down. 
 
Comic Songster. 1 1 
 
 Whenever a man’s understanding is gone, 
 
 ’Tis I that can mend it, tho’ e’er so much worn. 
 Then pray good customers on me depend, 
 
 To your troubles I can very soon put an end. 
 
 ’Tis not very often my work idly lacks. 
 
 For to it I stick night and morn tight as wax ; 
 Then surely my business it never can fail. 
 
 While all sorts of jobs I continually nail. 
 
 Like all auctioneers, I’m a bit of a crammer. 
 Like them too I frequently work with the ham- 
 mer. 
 
 Insulted one day by an ill-natured clown. 
 
 Like my auctioneer brother, I knocked him flat 
 down. 
 
 Saint Monday, like others I merrily keep. 
 
 And few are the sorrows that make me weep ; 
 
 I forget all disasters, forgive all that’s past, 
 
 And swear all the day to be true to the last. 
 
 My hair often bristles to think all my life, 
 
 I have lived without taking a lass for my wife ; 
 But as I’m grown old and no chance can well fall, 
 I’ll wait for grim death, and then give up my awl. 
 
 The Perfect Cure. 
 
 [An Original Version] 
 
 Young love he plays some funny tricks 
 With us unlucky elves ; 
 
 So gentlemen I pray lookout. 
 
 And take care of j^ourselves ; 
 
 For once I met a nice young maid. 
 Looking so demure, 
 
12 
 
 Free and Easy 
 
 And all at once to me she cried, 
 
 ‘‘ You are a perfect cure.” 
 
 I wasted on her lots of cash, 
 
 In hopes her love to share, 
 
 I used with her to cut a dash. 
 
 And all things went on square ; 
 
 Until I caught another chap 
 Who on his knees did woo her, 
 
 She cried as he my face did slap, 
 
 You are a perfect cure.” 
 
 I called upon her the next day, 
 Concerning that affair ? 
 
 I took a seat, and on it lay 
 A strange hat, I declare. 
 
 Whose hat is that,” says I ; says she 
 “Not yours, you may he sure. 
 
 So yourmay walk your chalks from me, 
 For you are a perfect cure.” 
 
 “ You are no cure,” I replied ; 
 i “Such insults, are not. needed,” 
 
 When a tall fellow I espied 
 
 Who nearly half killed me, did ; 
 
 . I through the window took a leap, 
 
 And fell into the sewer ; 
 
 They dragged me out and loud did shout, 
 “You are a perfect cure.” 
 
 I was laid up ill for seven months. 
 
 Indeed I’m not romancing. 
 
 Which brought on old Tantany’s dance 
 And then I kept on dancing. 
 
 One day a^ peeler called on me, 
 
 I felt ashamed you’r sure, 
 
 “ Along with me, come on,” says he, 
 “You are a, perfect cure.” 
 
Comic Songster. 13 
 
 He took me to the magistrate, 
 And there stood faithless she,* 
 An artful tale she did relate. 
 
 And then swore against me. 
 
 The case created lots of fun 
 At my expense to be sure. 
 
 So I pay for what I never done 
 Aint I a perfect cure. 
 
 A cure the neighbors now call me. 
 My friends all say the same, 
 They try to cure me of my love. 
 And rob me of my name. 
 
 I’ve told you all, m}'- song is done, 
 You’ll pity me I’m sure. 
 
 And say, as I away^ does run. 
 There goes the perfect cure. 
 
 I Stood on the Shore. 
 
 As sung by E. T. Thorne. 
 
 I stood on the shore ’midst the weeping and wailing, 
 
 ; Of friends that were parting it might be forever; 
 They gave a loud cheer when the good ship was 
 sailing. 
 
 And wept while the echoes were dying away. 
 
 One bright face was laughing while tears chased 
 each other. 
 
 It was but an infant whose smile I saw there ; 
 
 The babe had its home on the breast of ifs mother. 
 But little it knew of its mother’s despair. 
 
 That morn to the wars went, the husband and father. 
 The tears of the mother fell fast on the child ; 
 
 I wept, for the drops in my own eyes would gather, 
 
 I spoke and the infant looked upward and smiled ; 
 I talked of old homes and the deeds of proud story. 
 The wife thought of battles that still were to 
 come ; 
 
14 Free and Easy 
 
 I said in my mind, they who fight for our glory, 
 Shall never have fear for the loved ones at home. 
 
 And spoke I not the truth, where’s the freeman who 
 falters, 
 
 To hear out the promise a nation has made? 
 
 If dear to our hearts are our homes and our altars, 
 Then those that defend them shall loose not our 
 aid. 
 
 ' Humanity needs it, her pealings are holy. 
 
 And justice demands that each man plays his part, 
 We may not all fight, hut the high and the lowly. 
 Like freemen can aid the cause we have at heart. 
 
 The Tea ! The Tea ! * 
 
 Parody on “ The Sea ! The Sea !” 
 
 The tea ! the tea ! the toast and tea ! 
 
 The hlack, the green, the four and three ! 
 Without the milk, with all its grounds, 
 
 It filleth my heart with joyous hounds. 
 
 This praises ale aloud — that Mocha tries — 
 
 Or for a deep drop of the creature sighs. 
 
 I’m one for t6a ! I’m one for tea ! 
 
 I am a stunner for hohea ! 
 
 With the hrew I love, with the hrew of sloe, 
 Without all liquid else I’ll go. 
 
 Tho* the milk don’t come, or the sugar sweet, 
 What matter ? I can drink it neat ! 
 
 The cloth was white, the tea was drawn 
 At the breakfast hour when I was horn; 
 
 Tho kettle whistled, so gossips told. 
 
 And the tea-pot was as full as it could hold ; 
 And never was known such a cup of tea. 
 
 As welcomed to life the hahe, ( that’s me.) 
 
 I have lived since then on the hest Souchong 
 Well, just exactly my whole life long. 
 
 With wealth to spend and a power to range. 
 But never have thought or tried to change ; 
 For Pm death — no matter what sort it he — 
 On China, or ‘‘or any other man’s” tea ! 
 
Comic Songster. 15 
 
 Charlotte My Darling. 
 
 Parody on “ Kathleen Mavourneen.” 
 
 Charlotte my darling, the dinner is waiting, 
 
 The voice of the waiter is heard on the stair ; 
 
 The guests on their hosoms their napkins are pin- 
 ning, 
 
 Charlotte, my darling! why lingering there'? 
 
 Oh, hast thou forgotten how early was breakfast '? 
 Or hast thou forgotten how late shall he tea? 
 
 We may be too late, and we shall not get any, 
 Charlotte, my darling 1 have pity on me. 
 
 Charlotte, my darling come down from your toilet, 
 The fair capon’s gleam in the jelly’s mild light ; 
 
 Oh where is the spell that once lay in plum-pudding7 
 Come down as you are, or I shan’t get a bite. 
 Charlotte, my Charlotte! my faint voice is calling, 
 Ere long will be vanished both pudding and tart ; 
 
 I shall be too late, and they wont give me any, 
 
 O, why dost thou loiter when they must depart '? 
 
 Take Care of Your Head in the Morning. 
 
 Air “ Over the Water with Charley.” 
 
 What a pity it is that a man while he’s out. 
 
 Can’t take a small drop, and rest quiet ; 
 
 Not swig till he doesn’t know what he’s about, 
 
 And reel home without making a riot ; 
 
 My grandfather, Bottlenose, often would say, 
 
 (And his caution I took as a warning,) 
 
 My boy, if your out to-night soaking your clay. 
 Take care of your head in the morning.” 
 
 My old friend Tom Tipple could drink like a horse. 
 And we lived in the same house to-gether, 
 
1 6 Free and Easy 
 
 One word with each other we never had cross, 
 
 But were thick as young birds of a feather, 
 
 Now Tom’s was a failing — a sad one, ’tis clear, 
 He’d swig till the daylight was dawning, 
 
 Tho’ I never ceased whispering into his ear, 
 
 “ Take care of your head in the morning.” 
 
 To a party one night he was going out to sup, 
 When his wife kissed his cheek rather fawning, 
 
 “ At six, my dear Tommy, you’ll have to get up, 
 
 So take care of your head in the morning 
 He vow’d that no liquor should tempt him on earth 
 After one glass, the rest he’d be scorning ; 
 
 I’ll be home soon,” said he, ‘‘dear, and snug in 
 my bed. 
 
 Because of my head in the morning/* 
 
 Away to the party he went very spruce. 
 
 Of his head in the morning was thinking. 
 
 But glass after glass of the dear luscious juice! 
 
 He pour’d down in his throttle like winking! 
 
 He took some old rum, then brandy and gin 
 (For he’d not forgot his wife’s warning,) 
 
 “ I’m not going to mix it,” says he with a grin, 
 “'Cause it muddles one’s head in the morning.” 
 
 Then he pick’d up his legs, and towards home he 
 did stump. 
 
 Took the gas for a rushlight or candle, 
 
 Attempted to light his cigar at a pump, 
 
 And friendly shook hands with the handle! 
 Swore the lamp-posts were dancing an Irish qua* 
 drille. 
 
 When a straw tripp’d him up without warning; 
 Bang into the gutter be roll’d — “ what a gill,’* 
 
 He exclaimed, “ I shall look in the morning. 
 
 With the curb-stone for a pillow, contented he lay, 
 Singing songs till daylight was dawning. 
 
 Says he “ won’t my wife be delighted, I say 1 
 
Comic Songster. 17 
 
 I’ve took care of my head in the morning !’* 
 
 Then into a plug-hole he popp’d his latch-key, 
 And kept twisting it, cursing and yawning ; 
 
 “ My fool of a wife’s lock’d the street door,” says 
 be, 
 
 Quite forgetting my head in the morning.” 
 
 The police coming by draggedhim out of the mire, 
 While he left and right began podging, 
 
 On a shutter they laid him against his desire. 
 
 And found him a soberly lodging. 
 
 For assaulting the peelers and getting drunk too, 
 He was fined ten bob, as a warning; 
 
 ‘‘Next time,” says his honor, “ I’d just advise you. 
 To take care of your head in the morning.” 
 
 Now friends, young and old, pray don’t slight my 
 advice, 
 
 (I wish it well known in each quarter,) 
 Whenever your taking your grog snug and nice. 
 Always mix it with plenty of water ; 
 
 Or if you prefer a drop neat, which you might, 
 More than one thimble full pray be scorning. 
 For if you dive deep in the glass of a night, 
 
 You’ll find your head swim in the morning! 
 
 Disertation upon Noses. 
 
 [An old fashioned Coraic Song.] 
 
 I forget what Sterne says in his chapter on noses. 
 With laughter to make our sides ache : 
 
 But I think like Lavater he arguing supposes 
 Good or ill from their shapes or their make ; 
 
 But I’ll let both alone with each skit or reflection, 
 As they spar or together agree. 
 
 And explain the eflects in my own recollection. 
 These same noses have had upon me. 
 
I 
 
 1 8 Free and Easy 
 
 Cocked up noses are pert, and some say not too civil 
 Some have none, like a bear when a cub, 
 
 A fine stately nose may sometimes hide a devil, 
 And an angel may beam in a snub. 
 
 The flat nose, like a platter, is scarcely worth nam- 
 
 The sharp nose is a pretty good sort ; 
 
 I The mulberry nose that like Randolph’s is flaming, 
 Makes one think of good claret or port. 
 
 Your fine Grecian nose, about whidh they so teaze us, 
 Is admired, but from this some will swerve ; 
 
 For a nose should be beautiful if it would please us, 
 And the true line of beauty’s a curve. « 
 
 The old Roman hook’d noses were guards to their 
 peepers. 
 
 They, therefore, were men of renown ;• 
 
 For the sickle-like noses, armed them all so like 
 reapers. 
 
 They cut all their enemies down. 
 
 After all a good nose is a generous feature. 
 
 To the face gives an elegant air ; 
 
 It lends grace to men, is the type of good nature. 
 And is not much disliked by the fair. 
 
 But the mind is the thihg for though noses ’ be 
 hooked. 
 
 Pale, ruby, depressed or elate. 
 
 As a razor’s as sharp, as a bill hook as crooked. 
 Never mind, so the heart be but straight. 
 
 Dublin Sights, 
 
 Air Limerick Races. 
 
 When at home with dad, I never had no fun, sirs ; 
 Which made me so mad, I swore away I’d run, sirs. 
 I packed up my clothes so smart, ribb’d stockings, 
 vest so pretty, 
 
 : ! With money and a light heart, tript ofi* for Dub- 
 ( ! lin City . 
 
 I I CHORUS. — Tu ral, In ral, la. 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 19 
 
 As soon as I got there about the streets I ran, sirs, 
 
 At all the shows to stare, my ramhiing I began, sirs ; 
 
 0 such charming sights ! Music grinding women, 
 
 Water lifting lights, crocodiles and yeomen. 
 
 ^ Tu ral, lu &c. 
 
 The next sight I did see, was wonderful, good lack, 
 sirs, 
 
 A coach drawn by a flea, and two men made of 
 wax, sirs ; 
 
 There were Kings and Queens, and lawyers with- 
 out lungs, sirs, 
 
 Circassians, Gulotines, and women without tongues, 
 sirs. 
 
 Tu ral, lu, &c. 
 
 But the greatest fight I saw, from the beginning. 
 
 Was a real sham fight upon a field of linen ; 
 
 1 next saw fighting cocks, but what I thought most 
 
 rare, sirs. 
 
 Was, that up in a box, the Curragh of Kildare, sirs, 
 
 Tu ral, lu, &c. 
 
 I to the mall was led, where I my eyes did feast, sirs. 
 
 To see a man in red exhibit the wild beasts, sirs ; 
 
 Says he, ‘‘ pay and go in, I’ve apes and monkeys 
 plenty,” 
 
 Says I, ‘for one within, without I’ll show you twen- 
 ty.” 
 
 Tu ral, lu, &c. 
 
 To the Play-house then I goes where I saw merry 
 faces, 
 
 And in the lower rows were servants keeping 
 places ; 
 
 ’Mongst actors I found soon, they manage things 
 quite funny. 
 
 For they play the Honeymoon before the farce of 
 Matrimony. 
 
 Tu ral, lu, &c. 
 
20 
 
 Free and Easy 
 
 Young* Grimes. 
 
 Parody on “ Old Grimes.” 
 
 Old Grimes is dead that good old man, 
 We ne’er shall see him more ; 
 
 * But he has left a son who hears — 
 
 The name that old Grimes bore. 
 
 1 
 
 He wears a coat of latest cut, 
 
 His hat is new and gay ; 
 
 He cannot hear to view distress. 
 
 So turns from it away. 
 
 His pants are new, fitting snug 
 O’er patent leather shoes ; 
 
 His hair is by a barber curled, 
 
 He smokes cigars and chews. 
 
 A chain of massive gold is borne 
 Above his fiashy vest ; 
 
 His clothes are better every day, 
 Than were old Grimes’s best. 
 
 In fashion’s court he constant walks. 
 Where he delight doth shed. 
 
 His hands are very white and soft, 
 But softer is his head. 
 
 He’s six feet tall, no post more straight. 
 His teeth are pearly white, ^ 
 
 His habits though are sometimes loose. 
 And sometimes very tight. 
 
 His manners are^of sweetest grace, 
 
 0 His voice of softest tone ; 
 
 His diamc^id pin’s the very one 
 That old Grimes used to own. 
 
Comic Songster, 21 
 
 A dickey tall adorns his face, 
 
 His neck a scarf of blue ; 
 
 Sometimes he goes to church for change, 
 And sleeps in old Grimes’ pew. 
 
 He has drank wines of every kind. 
 
 And liquors cold and hot ; 
 
 Johnny Grimes in short, is just the sort 
 Of man. Old Grimes was not. 
 
 Der Duychman’s Serenade. 
 
 Parody on “ The Cavalier.” 
 
 ’Twas a good summer’s night and der moon shone 
 bright, 
 
 Unt I felt so sholly and gsiy, 
 
 Ven I dout I vould go,un mine avvections to show, 
 To a laty some musicks I’d blay ; 
 
 So I duned up mine vlute, and away I did poot 
 To her house vere mine love she hangs out ; 
 
 Un der air it did ring mit der zongs I did zing. 
 
 For at least half a mile round apout. 
 
 Bound apout, Bound apout. 
 
 For at least half a mile round apout. 
 
 “ It’ll be a rich dreat to hear musick zo zweet,” 
 Dus I said to menzelf as I blayed ; 
 
 I’ll enchant her by tarn, zuch a tear leetle lamb, 
 
 I ne’er saw since der tay I vas made.” 
 
 Put a sash here raised, un I velt amazed. 
 
 Ash a head from her vinder dere bops, 
 
 Uu ondop ov mine crown, mit a splash dumbling 
 down. 
 
 Came a pucket of vater and schlops. 
 
 Un schlops, un schlops, 
 
 Came a pucket of vater and schlops. 
 
jLx. 
 
 Free and Easy 
 
 A Warning to Travelers. ' 
 
 Air “ Bob and Joan.” 
 
 A 
 
 Never go to France, 
 
 Unless you know the lingo, 
 
 If you do, like me. 
 
 You will repent, by jingo ! 
 Staring like a fool. 
 
 And silent as a mummy. 
 
 There I stood, alone, 
 
 A nation with a dummy ! 
 
 CHORUS : — Never go, &c. 
 
 Chaises stand for chairs, 
 
 They christen letters, “ billies;” 
 They call their mothers mares,” 
 And their daughters* fillies.” 
 Strange it was to hear. 
 
 I’ll tell you what’s a good ’un. 
 They call their leather “ queer,” 
 And half their shoes are wooden. 
 
 * Never go, &c. 
 
 Signs I had to make. 
 
 For every little notion, 
 
 Limbs all going like 
 
 A telegraph in motion ; 1 . )< 
 
 For wine I reeled about, 
 
 To show my meaning fully, | 
 And made a pair of horns 
 To ask for “ beef and bully.” 
 
 Never go, &c. 
 
 ‘^Moo!” I cried for milk, 
 
 I got my sweet things snugger, 
 When I kiss’d Jeanette, 
 
 ’Twas understood for sugar. 
 
 If I wanted bread. 
 
Comic Songster, 23 
 
 My jaws I set a going, 
 
 And asked for new laid eggs 
 
 By clapping hands and crowing. 
 
 Never go, &c. 
 
 If I wished a ride, 
 
 I’ll tell you how I got it ; 
 
 On my stick astride 
 
 I made believe to trot it ; 
 
 Then their cash was strange, 
 
 It bored me every minute, 
 
 Now here’s a ^‘hog” to change, 
 How many sows” are in it 1 
 
 The Irish Potatoe. 
 
 Parody on the “ Old Oaken Bucket.” 
 
 How sweet to the taste is the Irish potatoe. 
 
 As memory awakens the thought of the plant ! 
 Its dark verdant vine-top, and beautiful blossom, 
 
 In pleasant transition my memory haunt ; 
 
 Ay, thought of the root in profusion once growing, 
 On the broad sunny hill-slope adjoining the mill, 
 At the homestead how many we raised there’s no 
 knowing. 
 
 For some were but small ones and few in a hill. 
 
 CHORUS^ 
 
 The mealy potatoe, the Irish potatoe. 
 
 The thin-skinned potatoe that grew on the hill. 
 
 That delectable plant I will prize while I’m able, 
 For, often at noon when returned from the field, 
 I found it superior to all on the table — 
 
 The best flavoured edible that nature could yield. 
 With what eager appetite, sharpened by labor, 
 
 I plied knife and fork with a hearty good will ! 
 Alas ! there are none of the old fashioned flavour. 
 None like the “ real simons” that grow on the hill. 
 The mealy potatoe, the Irish potatoe. 
 
 The thin-skinned potatoe that grew on the hill. 
 
24 Free and Easy 
 
 How prime from the full heapen dish to receive it> 
 
 As, poised on mj* fork,, it ascends to my mouth ! 
 
 No appeal to the palate could tempt me to leave it; 
 
 Though affected by rot on a long summer’s drouth , 
 And now far removed from that situation, 
 
 Where I used to partake of the root to my fill. 
 Fancy fain would revert to my father’s plantation, 
 And sigh for the “ kidney” that grew on the hill. ' 
 
 The mealy potatoe, the Irish potatoe, 
 
 I The thin skinned potatoe that grew on the hill. 
 
 The Charity Boy. 
 
 (As sung by the celebrated Sam Cowell.) 
 
 Air;— .“Off She Goes.” 
 
 No doubt you wonder who I is, 
 
 And at my figure you may quiz ; 
 
 At once your doubts then to destroy, 
 
 I’m Bobby Miles, the Charity Boy. 
 
 Tho’ some folks say as I’m a fool, 
 
 I’m a teacher, in a Charity School ; 
 
 And ’cause I am six feet to view, 
 
 I’m reckon’d, the head scholar too. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O, what a pleasure learning is ! 
 
 For tho’ the folks may jeer and quiz, 
 
 I’m mammy’s pet, and daddys’s joy, 
 
 O, what do you think of the Charity Boy ? 
 
 My talent I did quickly show, 
 
 At twelve years old, why you must kno.w, 
 Pot-hooks and hanger, I wrote free ; 
 Beside, I know my A. B. C. 
 
 My rising genius not to pass, 
 
 They promoted me to the fust class. 
 
 And ven the teacher the boys did whack, 
 I’d the honor to take them on my back. - 
 O, what a pleasure, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 25 
 
 I’m so accomplished, you may see, 
 
 At marbles none can play like me, 
 
 At buttons, too, I comes it stout, 
 
 I beats my playmates out and out. 
 
 At laming, too, no one denies, 
 
 And this ere proof will quite suffice ; 
 
 You bear as I can spell quite pat, 
 
 CAT dog, and DOG cat. 
 
 Ob, wbat a pleasure, &o. 
 
 Von afternoon I play’d the vag. 
 
 And to the fields my way did drag. 
 
 To get cock-sorrel ; the place I know, 
 
 And butter-cups and daises too. 
 
 Next day the teacher scolded me. 
 
 And threatened that I horsed should be ; 
 But when be made the fust attack. 
 
 Why, I wollop’d him just like a sack. 
 
 Ob, wbat a pleasure, &c. 
 
 So this you see bow blest I are : — 
 
 In laming I bang’s Byron far. 
 
 With a mind content wher’er I goes. 
 
 And dress’d in these ere handsome close, 
 
 I never bless the fate. I’m sure. 
 
 Which made me humble — made me poor ; 
 For, oh ! you can’t conceive the joy 
 It is to be a Charity Boy. 
 
 Humpy dumpy on the wall, 
 
 Humpy dumpy got a fall ; 
 
 I’m mammy’s pet and daddy’s joy. 
 
 So, wot d’ye think of the Charity Boy. 
 
 No Irish Need Apply. 
 
 [Original verpion by F. B. Philips.] 
 
 Sure, I was out the other night, on such a wild- 
 goose chase, 
 
 I saw an advertisement about a dacent place ; 
 
26 Free and Easy 
 
 It is myself it would well suit, but I cannot tell 
 you wh}’', 
 
 The man he said, “ did you not read ‘ no Irish need 
 apply.’ ” 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 If ’tis my country you dislike, I’m sure I don’t 
 know why, 
 
 Paith it’s all blarney when you say, *^No Irish 
 I need Apply.” 
 
 ' J ust take a trip to Ireland they will treat you like 
 a man. 
 
 The whiskey they’ll pour into you as long as you 
 I can stand; 
 
 I With heart and hand they’ll welcome j'ou, tell me 
 the reason why. 
 
 Our ears offend with that dainty end, *‘No Irish 
 need apply.” 
 
 So just look out, and mind yourself, for I say by 
 the by, 
 
 You lose your senses when you say, ‘‘No Irish 
 need Apply.” 
 
 You talk about your soldiers, now tell me if you 
 can, 
 
 ; If the bravest of them all are not Irish men ; 
 
 ' In America, in China, and India bye the bye, 
 i You never say when you want men, “No Irish 
 need Apply.” 
 
 You may talk about your countr}^, but you know 
 ’tis all my eye. 
 
 For the best feather in your cap, is when “ Irish do 
 apply.” 
 
 Of Generals and Statesmen, old Irel.and can boast, 
 
 ‘ Her Poets, too, ’tis well known to you, are univer- 
 sal toasts ; 
 
2? 
 
 Comic Songster, 
 
 There’s Goldsmith, Moore and Lover, and Morgan 
 bye the bye, 
 
 You could not get their equals if “No Irish need 
 Apply.” 
 
 So to conclude, toss off jout glass, I see no reason 
 why, 
 
 You should put in your advertisement “ No Irish 
 need. Apply.” 
 
 liOve and Physic. 
 
 Air “ Bow Wow.” 
 
 A clever man was Doctor Digg, 
 Misfortunes well he bore, sirs, 
 
 He never lost his patience, till 
 ^He had no patients more, sirs ; 
 
 And though his practice once was large, 
 It did not swell his gains, sirs. 
 
 The pains he labored for, were but 
 The labor for his pain, sirs. 
 
 That’s just so, 
 
 Tol lol de -riddle lol, 
 And that^s just so. 
 
 To marry seemed the only way 
 To ease his mind of trouble. 
 
 Misfortunes never singly come. 
 
 And misery makes them double. 
 
 He had a patient rich and fair. 
 
 That hearts by scores was breaking ; 
 
 And, as he once had felt her wrist. 
 
 He thought her hand of taking. 
 
 That’s just so, &Cv 
 
 And so he called ; his aching heart 
 With anxious fear was swelling. 
 
28 
 
 Free and Easy 
 
 He, half in habit took her hand, 
 
 And on her tongue was dwelling. 
 
 But thrice,* though he essayed to speak, 
 
 He stopped, and stuck, and blundered, 
 For say, what mortal could be cool, 
 
 Whose pulse was most a hundred 7 
 
 That’s just so, &c. 
 
 ** Madame,” at last he faltered out. 
 
 His love had grown courageous — 
 
 ** I have discerned a new complaint. 
 
 I hope will prove contagious ; 
 
 And when the symptoms I relate. 
 
 And show its diagnosis. 
 
 Oh, let me hope from those dear lips. 
 
 Some favorable prognosis !” 
 
 That’s just so, &c. 
 
 This done,” he cries, “ let’s try those ties 
 Which none hut death can sever ; 
 
 Since ‘ like cures like’ I do infer. 
 
 That love cures love forever.” 
 
 He paused — she blushed — however strange 
 ' It seemed on first perusal. 
 
 Although there was no promise made. 
 
 She gave him a refusal. 
 
 That’s just so, &c. 
 
 Perhaps you think, ’twixt love and rage, 
 He took some deadly potion. 
 
 Or with his lancet oped a vein. 
 
 To ease his pulse’s motion. ' / 
 
 To guess the vent of his despair, ‘ ' 
 
 The wisest one might miss it. 
 
 He reached his ofiice, — then and there — 
 
 He charged her for the visit. 
 
 That’s just so, &c. 
 
 ' • I 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 ^9 
 
 The Old Bachelor. 
 
 (A Popular Comic Song.) 
 
 When I was a school hoy, aged ten, 
 
 Oh mighty little Greek I knew ; 
 
 With my short striped trousers, and now and then, 
 With stripes on my jacket, too ! 
 
 When I saw other hoys to the playground run, 
 
 I threw my old grad us hy. 
 
 And left the task I had scarcely begun, 
 
 There’ll be time enough for that said 
 
 I was just nineteen when I fell in love. 
 
 And I scribbled a deal of rhyme. 
 
 And I talked to myself in a shady grove, 
 
 And I thought I was quite sublime. 
 
 I was torn from my love — ’twas a dreadful blow! 
 And the lady, she wiped her eye, 
 
 But I didn’t die of grief — oh, dear me, no ! 
 
 “ There’ll be time enough for that,” said I. 
 
 My next penchant was for one whose face 
 Was her fortune — she was fair ; 
 
 Oh, she spoke with an air of enchanting grace, — 
 But a man cannot live- upon air. 
 
 And when povert}^ enters the door, young love 
 Will out the casement fly ; 
 
 The truth of the proverb I’d no wish to prove. 
 There’ll be time enough for that,” said I. 
 
 My next was a lad)’- who loved romance. 
 
 And wrote verj^ splendid things. 
 
 And she said with a sneer, when I asked her to dance, 
 “ Sir, I ride upon a horse with wings.” 
 
 There was ink on her thumb when I kissed her hand. 
 And she whispered, “ If you should die, 
 
 I will write you an epitaph, gloomy and grand.” 
 
 “ There’ll be time enough for that,” said I. 
 
3© Free and Easy 
 
 I left her, and sported my figure and face 
 At opera, party and hall ; 
 
 I met pretty girls at every place. 
 
 But I found a defect in them all. 
 
 The first did not suit me, I cannot tell how, 
 
 The second I cannot say wh}’’ ; 
 
 The third — bless me, I will not marry now, 
 
 ** There’ll be time enough for that,” said I. 
 
 I looked in the glass, and I thought I could trace 
 A sort of a wrinkle or two. 
 
 So I made up my mind that I’d make up my face, 
 And come out as good as new. 
 
 To my hair I imparted a little more jet, 
 
 And I scarce could suppress a sigh. 
 
 But I cannot he quite an old, bachelor yet, — 
 
 . “ No, there’s time enough for that,” said I. 
 
 I was now fifty-one, yet I still did adopt 
 All the airs of a juvenile beau ; 
 
 But somehow, whenever a question I popp’d. 
 
 The girls, with a laugh, said Oh no !” 
 
 I am sixty to day, not a very young man. 
 
 And a bachelor doom’d to die, 
 
 So youths, he advised, and marr}' while you can, 
 
 “ There’s no time to he lost,” say I. 
 
 When We went out a Fishing! 
 
 Last night Tom Snooks, says he to me, 
 
 ‘‘If you’ve a mind some fun to see, 
 
 I’ll take 'you out with two or three, < 
 Who mean to go a fishing. 
 
 So get a rod, a can and bait. 
 
 We start from town precise at eight ; 
 
 Then, mind, friend Muggs, you’re not too late 
 To go with us a fishing.” 
 
Comic Songster. 31 
 
 Says I, ** I will,” so up I goes 
 To Mr. Spout with my best clothes, 
 
 And borrowed what you may suppose, 
 
 To rig me out for fishing. 
 
 ! CHORUS. 
 
 With rods and lines, and bait a store, 
 Enough for half-a-dozen more, 
 
 I never shall forget the bore 
 Of going out a fishing. 
 
 Then ofi* we trudged, thro’ dust and sun, 
 The perspiration off* me run ; 
 
 Tninks I, I hope this is’nt the fun 
 Of 'going out a fishing.” 
 
 At length we reached the river side. 
 
 And soon upon the glittering tide 
 Our floats, like little boats did ride 
 As floats do when your fishing. 
 
 I felt a tug — I tugged again. 
 
 And pulled away with might and main. 
 When up I brought a dog and chain. 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 With rods and lines, &c. 
 
 Lord, how they laughed to see the prize. 
 When Snooks (you know is such a size) 
 Soused in the stream, to our surprise. 
 
 As though to spoil our fishing. 
 
 You’ve heard about “ too many cooks,” 
 And, as we strove to land old Snooks, 
 
 We stuck him full of little hooks 
 
 With which we had been fishing. 
 
 At length our friend on shore we brought. 
 He puff’d and blow’d, you’d have thought 
 A full grown porpoise we had caught. 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 With rods and lines, &c. 
 
32 Free and Easy 
 
 We brandy’d Snooks — he soon *was well, 
 We plied away, and must I tell 
 What next to Jimm}" Hig^s befell, 
 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 The sun was hot. the grass was green, 
 
 He sat himself where cows had been. 
 
 And such a sight was his nankeen. 
 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 I warning took, and on a rail 
 
 I, like a bird in nursery tale, j 
 
 What wagged about his little tail. 
 
 Perch’d me up for fishing. 
 
 W ith rods and lines, &c. 
 But such mischance — the rail was old. 
 
 It broke, and down the bank I roll’d, 
 Look here ! I’m sure I caught a cold 
 From going out a fishing. 
 
 The mud was soft — my legs are thin — 
 And farther I kept sinking in. 
 
 Until I thought ’twould reach my chin, 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 At last, says 1, “ this will not suit,” 
 
 So out I bawls, when Higgs, the brute. 
 
 He lugged me out but left my boot 
 Where I had been a fishing. 
 
 With rods and lines, &o. 
 
 At two o’clock, the hour agreed — 
 
 We sat us down,’ ourselves to feed; 
 
 But fortune was unkind indeed, 
 
 When we were out a fishing. 
 
 For Ur abb to whom the grub did fall, 
 Forgot the pies, the beef,' and all. 
 
 And bottled up three quarts of small, 
 
 ' What stuff for us a fishing! 
 
 But thank my stars, all danger past. 
 
 I’ll make the cupboard rue my fast. 
 
 My first exploit shall be my last., 
 
 Of going out a fishing. 
 
 With rods and lines, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 33 
 
 Great Names of Antiquity. 
 
 Air : — Think of Your Head in the Morning.” 
 
 [By Eugene F. JohnstonTj 
 
 Of late years parents’ a fashion have made 
 Of givin;^ great names to their children ; 
 
 Such as Diogenes, Snooks, Hannibal, Praed, 
 
 And others e’en more bewildering. 
 
 But this custom has become almost absurd. 
 
 To prove it, a few names I’ll mention. 
 
 And though they seem queer, they are true to the 
 word. 
 
 And really none of my invention. 
 
 Horace, the ancient, in Gotham does dwell, 
 
 A.nd edits a daily paper ; 
 
 Demosthenes (snook) is a dealer in wool, 
 
 And Cicero, a black chimney scraper. 
 
 Cromwell’s a peeler in the gay Broadway squad, 
 George Law has New York in a stable ; 
 
 Michael Angelo, the German, carries the hod, 
 
 And Caesar, waits on a table. 
 
 Brutus is a butcher in Christopher street, 
 Sebastian, a pilot and coaster ; 
 
 Homer’s a cobbler that measures the feet, 
 
 Anthony, but a bill-poster. 
 
 Bacchus was ne’er known any liquor to use — 
 
 He belongs to a temperance society. 
 
 Cleopatra (though some think her morals were 
 loose). 
 
 Is considered the pink of propriety. 
 
 The Conquerer Hannibal, in chains is now bound. 
 By his master the famous Van Amburgh ; 
 
 Diana was.slaughtered at the dog-pound. 
 
 By the quack doctor, Galen, of Hamburgh. 
 Fernando holds Mozart’s great harp in his hand. 
 For “Dixie” he sweetly discourses; 
 
34 Free, and Easy 
 
 Benjamin’s chief of the policy band,” 
 
 And-deals in '‘gigs” “saddles” and “horses,” 
 
 Pompey’s a Knight of the dish-cloth and pan, 
 Israel a Chatham street tailor ; 
 
 Lafa\'ette is now Mr. Shoddy’s coachman, 
 Gustavus, is .but a nailer. 
 
 Hector who lost a leg at Bull Run, 
 
 Has been lately awarded a pension, 
 
 Napoleon the preacher, never handled a gun. 
 
 For fighting he makes no pretension. 
 
 Ulysses, still conquers as' in days of yore, 
 
 He’s the granting success of our nation ; 
 
 Croesus is ragged, and miserably poor, 
 
 Almost on the verge of starvation. 
 
 So I’ve proven to you there is nought in a name, 
 Be it ever so Grecian or Roman, 
 
 Call a man what you will, it’s all the same, 
 
 For a name I am sure^will make no man. 
 
 Tilings Not Generally Known. 
 
 Air :• — “ Green Grows the Rushes.” 
 
 [A Popular Comio Song.l 
 
 bi 
 
 r, 
 
 A tailor’s goose will never fly. 
 
 Want of money makes us sad ; 
 
 An apple dumpling’s not a pie, 
 
 Crazy folks are always mad. , 
 
 A contractor’s heart is very small. 
 The monument is very high ; 
 
 One that’s dumb can never bawl. 
 
 Very seldom asses die. 
 
 CHOuirs. 
 
 Right fol lol, &c. 
 
 ‘f. 
 
Comic Songster. 35 
 
 Irish whiskey’s very good, 
 
 Macaboy will make you sneeze, 
 
 A harher’s block is made of wood, 
 
 The moon is not made of green cheese; 
 
 Garters keep the stockings up, 
 
 All bakers are not honest men ; 
 
 When a dog is young he’s call’d a pup, 
 The rooster’s tougher than the hen. 
 
 Right fol lol, &c. 
 
 Wooden legs wear out no shoes, 
 Christmas comes but once a year ; 
 
 Without feet we can’t have toes, 
 
 Ten cents will buy a pint of beer. 
 
 We all sball live until we die. 
 
 Old maids in scandal take delight ; 
 
 Topers they are often dry. 
 
 Roguery will come to light. 
 
 Right fol lol, &c. 
 
 Tailors cabbage all your cloth, 
 
 Shins of beef are very tough ; 
 
 Hennessey is just like froth, 
 
 Mrs. Caudle’s up to snuff. 
 
 Jolly tars are fond of fun, 
 
 For Union we will ever shout ; 
 
 And now good folks my song is done, 
 Nobody knows what ’twas all about. 
 
 I’ve Lately Had Some Money. 
 
 Air : — “ Statty Fair.” 
 
 Obscurely I had passed my life, 
 
 Was called an ignoramus, 
 
 ’Till I, like Byron, woke and found 
 Myself, one morning, famous.** 
 
36 Free and Easy - 
 
 All darkly had life’s weather heen, 
 
 Tho’ now ’tis bright and sunny, 
 
 And yet this change is not so strange, 
 
 I’ve lately had some money. 
 
 Where’er I went folks ran away, 
 
 As if from burning lava, 
 
 They could not he more frightened at 
 The poison’d tree of Java. 
 
 ’Tis not so now, for all, I vow, 
 
 Flock near, like bees round honey. 
 
 Oh I magic change of fortune’s wand. 
 
 It’s ’cause I’ve got some money! 
 
 I used to say some funny things — 
 
 At least I dared to think so ; 
 
 But dull upon each ear they fell. 
 
 And all away would shrink so. 
 
 My mouth I never open now, 
 
 But all I say is funny. 
 
 My jokes oft bring hysterics on — 
 
 I’ve lately got some money ! . ’ 
 
 Unnoticed! might walk, I’m sure. 
 
 From Bull’s Head to the Battery, ^ 
 
 For not a man would nod to me, 
 
 Or speak a word of flattery.. 
 
 But'now I never venture out 
 But' every face is sunny,' ' ' 
 
 And all hob their heads like mandarins — 
 Because I’ve got some money. 
 
 On any subject I debate, 
 
 If I a sentence started, ^ 
 
 ’Twas never listened to — and none 
 Cared how with pain I smarted: . ) 
 
 My slightest whisper now is heard — 
 
 No more am I, their dummy, , / * 
 Thej^ cannot act .without me now— 
 
 I’ve lately ha'd some money. 
 
Comic Songster. 37 
 
 The Doctor. 
 
 A new Parody. 
 
 Not a cent had he got, not a treasury note, 
 
 And he looked confusedly flurried, 
 
 As he bolted away without paying his shot, 
 
 And the landlady after him hurried. 
 
 When we saw him again at the dead of night. 
 When home from the club returning. 
 
 We twigg’d the doctor beneath the light 
 Of gas-lamps dimly burning. 
 
 A.11 bare and exposed to the mid-night dews. 
 Reclined in the gutter we found him ; 
 
 And he looked like a gentleman taking a snooze. 
 With his marshal cloak around him. 
 
 The doctor’s as drunk as the devil, we said, 
 
 And we managed a shutter to borrow ; 
 
 We raised him, and sighed at the thought that his 
 head. 
 
 Would so dreadfully ache on the morrow. 
 
 We bore him home and we put him to bed. 
 
 And we told his wife and daughter, 
 
 To give him next day, a couple of red — 
 
 Herrings, with soda water. 
 
 Loudly they talked of his money that’s gone. 
 
 And his lady began to upbraid him ; 
 
 But little he reck’d so they let him snore on 
 ’Neath the counterpane — just as we laid him. 
 
 We tuck’d him in, and had hardly done, 
 
 When beneath the window calling. 
 
 We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun 
 Of a watchman, ‘‘ one o’clock” bawling. 
 
00 
 
 CO 
 
 Free and Easy 
 
 Slowly and sadly we all walked down 
 From his room in the uppermost story, 
 
 A rushlight we placed on the cold hearthstone, 
 And we left him alone in his glory. 
 
 
 The Cove that Sings. 
 
 Air The Cove that Spouts.” 
 
 
 No doubt a song you’ve heard, 
 How greatly it delights! 
 
 It comprises in a word 
 
 The luck of the cove that writes. 
 Now I’ve a song so true, 
 
 (My mind to truth it clings,) 
 
 And I’m going to tell you. 
 
 The luck of a cove that sings. 
 
 Tol de rol, &c. 
 
 
 When at singing I made a start, 
 
 Some said my voice was fine ; ' ' 
 
 I tried a serious part. 
 
 But turned to the comic line, 
 
 I found out that was best. 
 
 Some fun it always brings ; 
 
 To the room it gives a zest. 
 
 And it suits the cove that sings. ’ ‘ 
 
 Tol de lol, &o. - 
 
 
 To a concert or a rout. 
 
 Each night I’m asked to go ; 
 
 With my new toggery I go out, 
 
 And cut no little show ; . 
 
 Goes updo the music all right. 
 
 At the women I sheep’s eyes flings, 
 Gets my lush free all the night, 
 Because I’m the cove that sings. 
 
 i 
 
 If I go to take a room, / 
 
 There is no talk or stuff; ' ’ 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 39 
 
 About reference they don’t fume, 
 
 My word is quite enough. 
 
 For the money they don’t care a sous, 
 The landlady kind looks flings ; 
 
 She’s proud to have in her house 
 A gentleman that sings. 
 
 While strolling t’other night, 
 
 I dropt into a house, d’ye seel 
 
 The landlord so polite 
 Insisted entreating me ; 
 
 I called for a glass of port, 
 
 When a full bottle he brings, 
 [Spoken.'\ How much to pay, landlord,” said I. 
 
 Nothing of that sort,” 
 
 Says he, “ You’re the cove that sings.’* 
 
 Now my song is at an end, 
 
 My story through I’ve run; 
 
 And all that 1 did intend. 
 
 Was to cause a little fun. 
 
 If I succeed, that’s right. 
 
 There’s a pleasure pleasing brings. 
 
 And I’ll try some other night 
 The luck of a cove that sings. 
 
 The Wonderful Man. 
 
 Air JDerry Down.” 
 
 There was a man tho’ its not very common. 
 
 And, as people say, he was born of a woman ; 
 
 And if that be true, as I have been told. 
 
 He was once an infant, but age made him old. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Down, Down, Derry Down. 
 
 His face was the oddest that ever was seen. 
 
 His mouth stood across, ’twixt his nose and his chin. 
 
40 Free and Easy 
 
 Whenever he spoke, it was then with his voice, 
 And in talking he always in;ide some sort of noise. 
 
 Down, Derry, &c. 
 
 He’d an arm on each side to work when he pleased. 
 But never worked ‘hard when he lived at his ease ; 
 Two legs he had got to make him complete, 
 
 And, what was more odd at each end of his feet. 
 
 Derry Down. 
 
 His legs, as folks say, he could move at his will, 
 And when he was walking he never stood still ; 
 
 If you were to see him you’d laugh till jmu’d burst, 
 For one leg or ’tother would surely be first. 
 
 Darr}’^ Down, &c. 
 
 And, as people say, if you gave him some meat, 
 Why if he was hungry, he surely would eat ; 
 
 And when he is dry if }'0u give him the pot. 
 
 The liquor most commonly runs down his throat. 
 
 Derry Down, &c. 
 
 If this whimsical fellow had a river to cross, 
 
 If he could not get over — he’d stay w'here he was; 
 He seldom or ever gets oflP the dry ground. 
 
 So great was his luck that he never was drowned. 
 
 Derry Down, &c. 
 
 Another misfortune befel this poor yeoman. 
 
 For, when he was married, his wife w’as a woman. 
 And if you believe me, tho’ he he was reviled. 
 
 You may truly aver he was never a child. 
 
 . • Derry Down. 
 
 And if it be true, as I have often heard tell. 
 
 When he was sick he was not very well ; 
 
 He gave a large gasp, opened his mouth wide. 
 
 By some means or other this poor fellow died. 
 
 Derry Down, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 41 
 
 But the reason he died and the cause of his death, 
 Was, poor soul ! for the want of more breath. 
 
 And now he is left in the grave for to moulder, 
 Had he lived a day longer, he’d be a day older. 
 
 Derry Down, &c. 
 
 The Wonderful Nose. 
 
 Air “King and Countryman.” 
 
 A curious tale I will now disclose. 
 
 Concerning a man with a very long nose ! 
 
 Like an elephant’s trunk it reached to his toes. 
 
 And with it he could deal out some terrible blows. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Ei tu ral lu, &c. 
 
 This wonderful nose he could swing left and right. 
 Which you all must allow looked a comical sight, 
 No one dare come near him so great was his might, 
 A blow from his nose would settle ’em quite. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 This terrible chap was about nine feet high, 
 
 With a comical squint and a mouth all awry, 
 Though bandy his legs his heels were so light, 
 
 He’d just give a spring and jump out of sight. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 The hair on his head sprouted out like a leek, 
 
 And whenever he spoke ’twas a kind of a squeak ; 
 He would oft with his nose, toss up men for a freak. 
 And never came down, ’tis said, for a week. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 This chap wore a hat in shape like a basin. 
 
 With a brim wide enough for a donkey to race on. 
 
42 Free and Easy 
 
 A.nd such a deuce of a fellow he was to take snuff, 
 That a pound at a pinch was hardly enough. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 The country was filled with wonder and dread, 
 
 So the king at last set a price on his head ; 
 
 And so loud did he snore when at night in bed, 
 ’Twas said if he lived, he would soon wake the dead. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 Some guards of the king at last made a gap. 
 Through the doors of the house of this terrible chap, 
 They found him in bed just taking a nap, 
 
 With his nose round his head in place of his cap. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 They crept one by one tip-toe on the floor, 
 
 I think that in all there was near twenty score ; 
 They tried to secure him, but mark what a bore. 
 He jump’d through the roof and was never seen 
 more. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 The soldiers were all of them struck with afright. 
 When they saw Mr. Nosey cut clean out of sight. 
 And so angry were they he had taken his flight. 
 They set to and punched each other all night. 
 
 j Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 Grumbling People. 
 
 Air “ Good Morrow to your Nightcap.” 
 
 It’s wonderful in this bright world. 
 Where all our wants supplied are. 
 And freedom’s flag is never furled. 
 Folks so dissatisfied are ; 
 
1 
 
 Comic Songster. 
 
 43 ! 
 
 Tho fortune yields her gifts to those 
 Who, station once were humble in, 
 To peace of mind they still are foes, 
 And ever will keep grumbling ! 
 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 
 So this indeed is true, you’ll find, 
 Whatever life jmu tumble in ; 
 
 Both high and low, nay, all mankind, 
 They always will be grumbling ! 
 
 
 There’s Mr. Snoggins and his wife. 
 
 They lead a life bewildering ; 
 
 Forever they were both at strife 
 Because they had no children ; 
 
 The oth.er day she brought him three., 
 
 (A tidy batch to tumble in.) 
 
 One would have thought that pleased he’d be. 
 Yet still he keeps on grumbling ! 
 
 Then there’s the milliner. Miss Wren, 
 So crabb’d and sour in features. 
 
 She vows she can’t bear the men, 
 
 The nasty, frightful creatures ! 
 
 Her age is forty-three — no less, 
 
 Her pride there is no humbling. 
 She’s left to single-blessedness, — 
 
 Yet still she keeps on grumbling! 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 The Doctor grumbles (truth to tell,) 
 ’Cause people are too healthy ; 
 While they keep obstinately well. 
 
 He never can grow wealthy ; 
 
 He says, “ its very hard, he’s sure,” 
 His vanity it’s humbling, — 
 
 But had he half mankind to cure, 
 
 He still would keep on grumbling ! 
 
 
 The undertaker grave does look. 
 His feelings he can’t master. 
 
 He thinks by fortune he’s forsook 
 
 
44 Free and Easy 
 
 ’Cause people don’t die faster ! 
 
 If in their graves, (the greedy elf,) 
 
 All New York had to tumble in, — 
 And the job to bury ’em all himself, 
 
 The fellow would keep grumbling ! 
 
 The topers have a bitter pill — 
 
 (In their bowels feel it rumbling.;) 
 For, physic’d by the late tax-bill. 
 They’ll never cease their grumbling ! 
 In short, it needs no pains to show, 
 
 Or any further mumbling. 
 
 That old and young, both high and low, 
 Throughout the world are grumbling ! 
 
 The Steam Cigar. 
 
 Air “ Cork Leg.” 
 
 A song I’ll sing, a regular joker, 
 
 Of a man, a terrible smoker ; 
 
 He smoked away from night till morn, 
 ’Tissaid, ho smoked when he was born. 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Ei tu ral,&c. 
 
 He tried Havanna, Cuba, too. 
 
 He tried tobacco, none would do, 
 
 To please him none of them did seem. 
 
 So he had a cigar to smoke by steam. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
 He lit his cigar, and he puff’d the smoke. 
 With such force that it a window broke ; 
 And then the heat it W'as so strong, 
 
 He burnt the folks as he walked along. 
 
 Ei tu ral, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 45 
 
 It burnt away to bis heart’s desire, 
 
 Some people thought the city on fire ; 
 
 And if he went out when it chanced to rain, 
 His lighted cigar dried it up again. 
 
 Ri tu ral, &c. 
 
 When into a room his nose he pokes, 
 
 They all cry out the chimney smokes!” 
 And then his cigar makes such a smell, 
 That people declare it’s just like !’* 
 
 Hi tu ral, &c. 
 
 ’Tis said in London, — and this is no joke, 
 
 “ ’Tis him that makes us in such a smoke,” 
 When of a night he’s seen afar, 
 
 He’s taken by all for the evening star. 
 
 I Ri tu ral, &c. 
 
 ! 
 
 One day when on a mountain top 
 Folks thought him a comet, ready to drop, 
 And some saw from afar the sight. 
 
 And thought it was the sun’s gas light. 
 
 Ri tu ral, &c. 
 
 He smoked away to his heart’s desire, 
 
 Till death appeared and quenched the fire. 
 He put out his cigar for a bit of a lark, 
 
 And then at once extinguished the spark. 
 
 Ri tu ral, &c, 
 
Free and Easy 
 
 The Chapter of Accidents. 
 
 Air : — “ Bow Wow.” , ; 
 
 I’ll tell you of sad accidents a long and dismal 
 chapter, 
 
 For if bad luck had e’er a form, they to my back 
 have strapped her ; 
 
 I never once a wooing went in all my useful life, 
 sir. 
 
 Or ten to one, but I had got Miss ‘ Fortune for a 
 wife, sir. ' ; 
 
 When I was }^oung, as I’ve heard say, they never 
 used the ladle. 
 
 Without they burnt my infant throat, or else 
 upset the cradle ; 
 
 Once when a boy, on going to school, as gay as any 
 fairy, 
 
 While looking up at a large crow, I tumbled down 
 an area. 
 
 One day, at play, my teacher cried, mind what 
 you’re with that ball about ; 
 
 So taking care to strike it low, I knocked my 
 master’s eye-ball out ; 
 
 And being frightened, tried to find my way out by 
 a shorter cut, 
 
 By running down a fiight of stairs I fell into a 
 water butt. 
 
 Without misfortune one whole day, I thought 
 good luck complying ; 
 
 I went to bed so light of heart, I dream pt that I was 
 flying; 
 
 Then up I got, resolved to sing, with angels fair, a 
 song on high. 
 
 Threw up the window, out I jumped into a mud 
 cart passing by. 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 Beneath a scaffold walking once, with Dobbins and 
 his daughter, 
 
 In looking up, plump on my head came down a 
 hod of mortar ; 
 
 A voice above cried “ mind below” so I tried to run 
 to tell her. 
 
 But flurried push’d her in the mud, her father 
 down a cellar. 
 
 Challenged once to fight, but shedding blood, in 
 fear of, 
 
 I turned about to waste my fire, but shot my 
 second’s ear off; 
 
 Beturning home, a porter met, with heavy load of 
 brass work, 
 
 I slipp’d my foot, and shoved him through, a 
 window full of glass work. 
 
 Once at an inn, not liking fuss, I to my room was 
 creeping 
 
 But there mistook the chamber door, and found a 
 lady sleeping ; 
 
 A.nd running out her husband met, in state of fierce 
 distraction 
 
 Who bang’d me well about the head, then brought 
 a crim-con action. 
 
 Once at a ball my foot gave way, when I thought 
 to grace a jig 
 
 I falling tripp’d my partner up, — pull’d off an old 
 lady’s wig ; 
 
 Then^ sore abashed, I left the room, quite blinded 
 * by my bitter cares," 
 
 And slipping ofl* the landing place, shoved three 
 young ladies down the stairs. 
 
 Some thieves one night the parlor robbed, but they 
 could get no higher. 
 
 Watched next night, fell fast asleep, and set the 
 house on fire; 
 
48 Free and Easy 
 
 More accidents I would recount, in hopes that yon 
 might note them, 
 
 But by mistake I’ve thrown away the book in 
 which I’ve wrote them. 
 
 The Twig of the Shannon. 
 
 On the beautiful banks of the Shannon, 
 
 There grows such an illigant tree. 
 
 And the first that it bears is shilalah, 
 
 I’ve a sprig of it here you may see. 
 
 *Tis the remnant of all my large fortune, 
 
 It’s my friend that ne’er play’d me a trick, 
 And I’d rather loose half my supportin’ 
 
 Than part with this illigant stick. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 ’Twas a delicate sprig in the summer. 
 
 When I first cut it from the tree. 
 
 And I’ve kept it through all the cold weather, 
 Faix the sprig of shilalah for me. 
 
 It’s the porter that carried my luggage. 
 
 For I’ve shouldered it many a mile. 
 
 And from thieves it will safely protect me. 
 
 In a beautiful, delicate style. 
 
 Its useful for rows in the summer. 
 
 And when winter comes on with a storm , 
 
 If you’re short of a fire in the cabin, 
 
 You can burn it to keep yourself warm. 
 
 ’Twas a delicate, &c. 
 
 Its a friend both so true and so constant. 
 
 It’s constancy pen cannot paint ; 
 
 For it always is there when it’s wanted. 
 
 And sometimes its there when it aint ; 
 
Comic Songster. 49 
 
 It beats all your guns and your rifles, 
 
 For it goes off whene’er you desire, 
 
 And it’s sure to hit what’er it’s aimed at, 
 
 For shillalah’s they never miss fire. 
 
 ’Twas &c. 
 
 It’s a talisman so upright and honest. 
 
 Twenty shillings it pays to the pound ; 
 
 So if ever it gets you in debt, sir, 
 
 You are sure to be paid I’ll be bound. 
 
 It never runs up a long score, sir. 
 
 In trade it’s not given to fail, 
 
 There’s no danger of it’s being insolvent, 
 
 For it always pays down on the nail. 
 
 ’Twas &c. 
 
 And faith at an Irish election, 
 
 An argument striking it’s there ; 
 
 For with brickbats and sprigs of the Shannon 
 We see things go all right and square. 
 
 It’s then there’s no bribery at all, sir. 
 
 They vote as they like, every soul. 
 
 But it’s no use opposing shilalah, 
 
 Or it’s sure to come down on the poll. 
 
 ’ Twas &c. 
 
 The Wants of the People. 
 
 Air : “ When the Saxon.” 
 
 As you want a song I could sing for a moon. 
 But it happens I want both a subject and tune ; 
 You want and I want suppose I e’en bawl. 
 About wants entirely of great folks and small ; 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 For barring all pother, of this want and t’other. 
 We all of us want in our turn. 
 
50 Free and 'Easy 
 
 The infant wants gewgaws and rattles so gay, 
 The child ^\ants with others to go out and play ; 
 The youth wants to leave school and learning so 
 Hat, 
 
 Whimsical folks want — they never know what. 
 
 For barring all pother, &®. 
 
 The man wants a wife, which want sticks in his 
 head, 
 
 Till he weds her, he then wants another instead ; 
 The sick man wants health and takes bolus and 
 pill. 
 
 The doctor wants — only to make a long bill ; 
 
 For barring all pother, &c. 
 The lawyer wants clients, and drains them with 
 
 The physician a visit pays — then wants his fee ; 
 The tailor wants custom and for it he looks. 
 
 His customers all want to get in his books ; 
 
 For barring all pother, &o. 
 
 The Sailor wants grog and tobacco galore. 
 
 His money spent then wants to sail out for more. 
 The soldier wants ease after battle and strife. 
 
 The prisoner wants liberty — sweet balm of life. 
 
 For barring all pother, &c. 
 
 The clerk to be master, wants to aspire. 
 
 His master from' business wants to retire, 
 
 Fancies his cash makes a gentleman true. 
 
 Takes a villa, and then — he wants something to do. 
 
 . j , For barring all pother, &c 
 
 Some great politicians, with feeling so warm, 
 Want to persuade us we want to reform ; 
 
 They get into office,' and then plainly we trace. 
 Like many more members they want a good 
 place. .1; 
 
 For barring all pother, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 51 
 
 So numerous our wants, they with eaclv other vie, 
 Poor folks all want rich relations to die ; 
 
 Our wants for the most part are futile and vain. 
 Many folks want what they never obtain ; 
 
 ' For barring all pother, &o. 
 
 The apple wants limbs, the fool he wants sense, 
 The nation wants millions for its defence; 
 
 They just now want a little less tax, 
 
 And shoddy contractors, want only contractsi 
 
 For barring all pother, &c. 
 
 Thus all mankind want, but for fear you should 
 scoff, 
 
 I’ll end, for perhaps you want me to leave off; 
 
 So about that or this want at present I’ll pause, 
 I’ve only one want now, — and that your applause ; 
 
 F or barring all pother, &c. 
 
 Alteration and Improvement. 
 
 Air “ Bow Wow.” 
 
 Oh, when I was a little boy, I noticed every move- 
 ment. 
 
 And little thought so short a time, would bring so 
 much improvement ; 
 
 Now the world is turning upside down in observa- 
 tion, 
 
 For, turn which way you will, you’ll find there’s 
 naught but alteration. 
 
 Before the march of intellect, the ladies, e’en the 
 oddest. 
 
 Dress’d themselves all neat and prim, and look’d so 
 very modest, 
 
 Now by many habits they are led in imitation. 
 
 For all wear trowsers, and, of course, that makes 
 an alteration. 
 
52 Free and Easy 
 
 Before the march of intellect, (indeed I am not 
 joking), 
 
 Our grandfathers and fathers would indulge them- 
 selves in smoking ; 
 
 Now the 'Vulgar pipes of cla}^ are banished from the 
 nation, 
 
 And everybody smokes cigars, and that’s an alter- 
 ation. 
 
 Before the march of intellect, our servant maids all 
 dress’d in 
 
 Neat check aprons, and what hats their mistress- 
 es thought best in ; 
 
 Now girls despise all check and apron, too, in 
 every station, 
 
 And gents’ now wear check trav’ling shirts, and 
 that’s an alteration. 
 
 Before the march of intellect, folks never thought 
 of trials. 
 
 For throwing light additional on watches, clocks, 
 or dials ; 
 
 Now old time is lit with gas, with clocks illumina- 
 tion. 
 
 And citizens enlightened are — and that’s an altera- 
 tion. 
 
 Before the march of intellect, our soldiers all wore 
 big tails. 
 
 Beaux would strut in clean shorn faces, powder’d 
 heads and pig tails ; 
 
 Dandies now by whiskers big are led in imitation. 
 
 And monkeys wear,mustachios, and that’s an alter- 
 ation. 
 
 Thus whilst we see so many changes floating all 
 around. 
 
 May the march of intellect in jevery walk abound,; 
 
 May fashion and variety be seen all o’er the nation. 
 
 And may we find improvement good in every al- 
 teration. 
 
Comic Songster. 53 
 
 Never Cut Your Toe Nails On a Sunday. 
 
 fA Popular Comic Song.] 
 
 A dashing young fellow, one Mr. John Lowe, 
 Walked fifth Avenue on a fine Sunday ; 
 
 His dress was the pink of the fashion and go, 
 When he met with the charming Miss Gundy; 
 Her beautiful eyes took him quite by surprise, 
 
 And so queer was the state that he felt u \ ; 
 
 He tried all in vain to tell his pain 9 , j 
 
 For his heart it was really a melting"* > ^ 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 But, alas, who can look into fate’s book of laws, 
 Mr. Lowe would have married Miss Gundy ; 
 He lost her ! he lost her I — and only because, — 
 He cut his toe-nails on a Sunday. 
 
 The next time he met her his love he made known, 
 Her person he thought all perfection. 
 
 He press’d her with speed to be bone of his hone, 
 She blush’d, and — had no objection. 
 
 He gaily did sing, went and purchased the ring, 
 And the next Sunday was the bespeak day. 
 
 For that day would chime, and agree with his time. 
 Much better than having a week day. 
 
 But, alas ! 
 
 On the blest Sunday morning he got up with glee, 
 (Little thinking that mischief was hatching,) 
 Took out his pen knife for his toes to make free. 
 
 At night to prevent them from scratching. 
 
 But the knife slipt and gave his big toe a wound ; 
 
 (Sweet wedlock there’s surely a fate in) 
 
 That he could’nt put it at all on the ground, 
 
 Tho’ he knew Miss Gundy was waiting. 
 
 But, alas ! 
 
5'4 Free and Easy 
 
 Oh! words can’t describe all his trouble and woe, 
 Only think of his sad destination ; 
 
 A surgeon was sent for, who dressed his big toe, 
 And talked all about amputation 1 
 Laid up for a month, while Miss Gund)^ so smart. 
 Disappointed of having this short knight, 
 Without delay got her another sweetheart, 
 
 And married in less than a fortnight I 
 So young men, if love has got into your head. 
 Recollect Mr. Lowe and Miss Gundy ; 
 
 And whatever you do before you get wed, 
 
 ’Meter d&t your toe nails on a Sunday. 
 
 The Removal. 
 
 Air:— “Derry Down.” 
 
 A nervous old gentleman tired of trade — 
 
 By which, though it seems, he a fortune had made, 
 Took a house ! ’twixt two sheds at the skirts of the 
 town, 
 
 Which he meant, at his leisure, to buy and pull 
 down. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
 This thought struck his mind when he view’d the 
 estate, 
 
 But alas ! when he entered he found it too late ; 
 For in each dwelt a smith — a more hard working 
 two 
 
 Never doctored a patient, or put on a shoe. 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
 At six in the morning, their anvils at work. 
 Awoke our good squire who swore like a Turk ; 
 
 “ These fellows’’ he cried, “ such a clattering keep. 
 That I never can get above eight hours sleep.” 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
Comic Songster. 55 
 
 From morning till night, they kept thumping 
 away,— 
 
 No sound hut the anvil the whole of the day ; 
 
 His afternoon’s nap, and his daughter’s new song, 
 
 Were banished and spoiled by the hammers’ ding 
 dong. 
 
 Down, Down, See. 
 
 He offered each Yulcanto purchase his shop, 
 
 But no ! they were stubborn, determined to stop ; 
 
 At length (both his spirits and health to improve,) 
 
 He cried, “I’ll give each fifty dollars to move.” 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
 “ Agreed !” said the pair, “ that will make us 
 amends.” 
 
 “ Then come to my house, and let us part friends ; 
 
 You shall dine ; and we’ll drink on this jojmus 
 occasion^ 
 
 That each may live long in his new habitation.” 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
 He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale — 
 
 He spared not provisions, his wine or his ale; 
 
 So much was he pleased with the thought that each 
 guest 
 
 Would take from him nois^ and restore him to rest. 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
 “And now ” said he, “tell me, where mean you to 
 move — 
 
 I hope to some spot where your trade may im- 
 prove 1” 
 
 “ Why, sir,” replied one, with a grin on his phiz, 
 
 “Tom Forge moves to my shop and I — move to 
 his.” 
 
 Down, Down, &c. 
 
56 Free and Easy 
 
 He was only One of the Rank and File. 
 
 ’Twas a glorious day worth a warrior’s telling, 
 Two kings had fought and the fight was done, 
 
 When amidst the shouts of victory swelling, 
 
 A soldier fell on the field he had won. 
 
 Ho thought of kings and of royal quarrels ; 
 
 He thought of glory, without a smile. 
 
 For. what had he to do with laurels 
 
 He was only one of the rank and file. <- ’’ 
 
 V. CHORUS. 
 
 Theif\ taking his little cruiskeen ! 
 
 He drank to his pretty colleen. 
 
 Oh ! darling, said he, if I die. 
 
 You won’t be a widow, for why? . ' 
 
 Sure, you would never have me, vourneen ! 
 
 A raven tress from his bosom taking' 
 
 That now was stained with his life stream shed; 
 
 A.nd a fervent prayer on that ringlet making, , 
 
 He blessings sought for that loved one’s head ; 
 
 And visions fair of his native mountains. 
 
 Arose enchanting his fading sight 
 
 Her emerald valleys and'chrystal fountains. 
 
 Were never shining more clear and bright. 
 
 Then taking his little cruiskeen. 
 
 He pledged his dear island so green, 
 
 Tho’ far from thy vallies I die ! 
 
 Dearest isle of my heart, thou art nigh ! — 
 
 ^ As though absent I never had been. 
 
 A tear now fell for his life was sinking. 
 
 The pride that guarded that manly eye 
 
 Had weaker grown, such tender thinking. 
 
 Brought home, and Heaven, and his true-love 
 nigh. 
 
 But with the fire of his gallant nation ! 
 
 He scorned surrender without a blow ; 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 '57 
 
 He met with death’s capitulation, 
 
 And with warlike honors he still would go. 
 
 Then draining his little cruiskeen, 
 
 He drank to his cruel colleen, 
 
 To the emerald land of his birth, 
 
 Then lifeless, he sank to the earth, 
 Brave a soldier as ever was seen. 
 
 Paddy from Cork. 
 
 [As sung by Billy O’Neil, J. H. Ogden, &c.] 
 
 Dublin’s a- duck of a city, 
 
 ’Tis built as you go to Eatfarnham, 
 
 Limerick gloves are so pretty. 
 
 That Limerick lasses they darn ’em ; 
 
 At Belfast they sell ready made pork. 
 
 If they meet with a mad bull they don’t 
 mind him, 
 
 I there met Paddy from Cork, 
 
 Who buttoned his coat behind him. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Tu ral, lu, &c. 
 
 Irishmen all love the sod, 
 
 Whiskey will bother the 'tooth-ache ; 
 
 And love, tho’ it sounds mighty odd, 
 
 Make the hearts of the boys in truth ache ; 
 
 Shelah’s mother cried girl never talk. 
 
 Of that ugly paudeen never mind him, 
 
 There’s mischief in Paddy from Cork, 
 
 When he buttons his coat behind him !” 
 
 Tu ral lu, &c. 
 
 Now Paddy of good looks did’nt lack. 
 
 And his tongue it was tipp’d with blarney, 
 
 Yet he had’nt a brogue to his back, 
 
 (Except two on his feet) from Killarney. 
 
58 Free and Easy 
 
 Upper leather of wood did’nt baulk 
 
 His steps, when a jig inclined him, — ' ; 
 
 Like a divil danced Paddy from Cork, 
 
 When his coat it was buttoned behind hiin. 
 
 Tu ral lu, &c. 
 
 AtBallanashlinch onfair days, 
 
 When he threw down his modest shillalah, 
 Divils cure to one, that said — Peace 
 He got Eringobra gallant gaily ; 
 
 For hay, or beefsteak, he’d a fork. 
 
 Work or meat to no limit confined him, 
 Such a vourneen was Padd)^ from Cork, I 
 When his coat it was buttoned behind him. 
 
 Tu ral lu, «fec. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Skinner. 
 
 I really think it very kind, , 
 
 This visit, Mrs. Skinner, 
 
 I have not seen you in such an age — ; • 
 [Aside ] — The wretch has come to dinner ! 
 
 ‘^Your daughters too! — what loves of girls. 
 What heads for painter’s easels, i 
 Come here, and kiss the infant, dears;— 
 [Aside ] — And give it, p’raps the measles! 
 
 Your charming boys I see are home, 
 
 From Reverend Mr. Russel’s, ' 
 
 ’Twas very kind to bring them both!— 7 
 [Aside .] — What boots for my new brussels! 
 
 So Mr. S. 'I hope he’s well. 
 
 And, though he lives so handy, 
 
 He never now drops in to sup 
 [Aside .] — The better for our brandy ! . . 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 ** Come take a seat I long to hear 
 About Matilda’s marriage ; 
 
 You’ve come of course to spend the day, — 
 Aside ,'\ — Thank Heavens, I hear the carriage! 
 
 What ! must you go — next time, I hope 
 You’ll give me longer measure, 
 
 Nay, I shall see you down the stairs, 
 \Aside ^ — With most uncommon pleasure ! 
 
 Good bye 1 good bye ! remember all, 
 
 Next time you take your dinners : 
 
 Now, John, mind. I’m ‘ not at home,’ 
 
 In future to the Skinners.” 
 
 Parody on “Mother, Pve Come Home to 
 Die.” 
 
 (An Original Conglomeration of titles, by the popular Au- 
 thor Eugene T. Johnston.) 
 
 Dear Mother, I remember well 
 
 That nice young gal from New Jersey,” 
 She said, Oh kiss hut never tell I” 
 
 “ How are you, black horse cavalry I” 
 ‘‘Then let me like a soldier fall,” 
 
 “ When the swallows homeward fly 
 “ Come landlord fill the flowing howl” 
 
 “ Dear Mother, I’ve come home to die.” 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 “ Call me pet names” “ Annie Lisle,” 
 
 “ A bully boy with a glass eye 
 “ Oh let her rip she’s all O. K,” 
 
 “Dear Mother, I’ve come home to die.” 
 
 “ Oh, hark I I hear an angel sing,” 
 
 “ I’ll be free and easy still,” 
 
 “ My love he is a sailor hoy,” 
 
 With “The sword of Bunker Hill.” 
 
Comic Songster. 6l 
 
 Oh! list to what I say, charms you’ve got like 
 Venus, 
 
 Own 3^our love you may, for there’s only the wall 
 between us. 
 
 You lay fast asleep, snug in bed and snoring, 
 While round the house I creep — your hard heart 
 imploring. > 
 
 Then do say, &c. 
 
 I’ve got an acre of ground, I’ve got it set with 
 praties, 
 
 I’ve got tobacco a pound, and I’ve got some tea for 
 the ladies, 
 
 I’ve got a ring to wed, some whiskey, to make us 
 ' gaily, 
 
 A mattress feather bed and a handsome new 
 shillaly. 
 
 Then do say, &c. 
 
 I’ve got an old tom cat, which though one eye is 
 staring 
 
 I’ve got a Sunday hat, a little the worse for wear- 
 ing, 
 
 A Sunday hose and coat, and old gray mare to ride 
 on, 
 
 A saddle and bridle to boot, that you may ride as- 
 tride on. 
 
 If you’ll say, &c. 
 
 I’ve got nine pigs and a sow, and I’ve got a sty to 
 keep ’em, 
 
 A calf and a brindle cow, and I’ve a cabin to sleep 
 ’em, 
 
 I’ve got some gooseberry wine, the trees they grew 
 no riper on. 
 
 When you say, &c. 
 
 You’ve got a charming you’ve got some spell- 
 ing and reading, 
 
62 Free and Easy 
 
 You’ve got, and so have I, a taste for genteel 
 breeding; 
 
 You’re rich and fair and young, as everybody’s 
 knowing. 
 
 And you’ve got a decent tongue whenever you set 
 it a going. 
 
 Then do say, &c. 
 
 Oh! for a wife till death, I am willing to take you. 
 
 But oh 1 I spend my breath, the devil himself can’t 
 waUe you, 
 
 ’Tis just beginning to rain — so I’ll get under cover. 
 
 I’ll come to-morrow again to be your constant lover. 
 
 If you’ll say, &c. 
 
 Ireland, the Land of Shilalah Law. ^ 
 
 Air : — Paddy O’ Carroll, 
 
 Och I Ireland the place is, for Grecians and graces. 
 For sweetest of faces the world ever saw ; 
 
 For fighting genteely and drinking too freely. 
 Potatoes so mealy, and sweet usquebaugh. 
 
 Och ! the paddies are rare ones, the ladies are fair, 
 ones. 
 
 And no one there dare once to sa}^ they arc not ; 
 If Barney were by now, his cudgel would ply now. 
 And make him soon fly now, as quick as a shot. 
 CHORUS. 
 
 For he’s of the nation of civilization. 
 
 Of sweet botheration and shillalah law ; 
 
 Och ! a good tough skull-breaker’s the best of all 
 speakers, 
 
 Sing fiUiloo ! hubbubboo 1 Erin go braugh ! 
 
 Sweet Judy O’Connor, a maid of true honor, 
 
 So neatly I won her at Donnybrook Fair, 
 
Comic Songster, 
 
 63 
 
 From Paddy M’Fini^al, an Ulsterman single, 
 
 Who came in a jinjle, and sported her there. 
 
 Och ! Judy, I cried now, how can you ride now, 
 And have at your side no‘w, such a bandy-legged 
 . knave ? 
 
 Och ! cried Paddy, Barney, pray give us no blarney, 
 Or faith ! I’ll soon learn ve now how to behave. 
 
 To the sprig of the nation, &c. 
 
 Pat’s cudgel was handy, and though he was bandy, 
 He was quite the dandy in love or a fight ; 
 
 He gave me a topper — I gave him a whopper. 
 
 It was- such a stopper it stopped his mouth quite ; 
 His courage was all out, he murder did bawl out. 
 And why did we fall out, sweet Barney, my 
 joyr’ 
 
 Och ! if you’d know why, now, for Judy I’d die 
 now. 
 
 Take that in your eye, now, dear Paddy my boy^ 
 For I’m of the nation, &c. 
 
 So J ud)^ I caught her, but very soon after, 
 
 She did die a martyr to whisk}^ so strong ; 
 
 There was a grand making at sweet Judy’s waking. 
 Lights, whisky, and cake, in galore the night 
 long 
 
 As Judy did lie now, her friends all did cry now — 
 Och ! why did you die now, and leave us to- 
 nignt 1 
 
 Till with liquor o’ertaken, we got to heads break- 
 
 , ing, 
 
 And finished the wake in — a row and a fight 
 For we’re of the nation, &c. 
 
64 Free and Easy 
 
 Long Barney. 
 
 Air “ Kate Kearney.” 
 
 Bid 5'ou ever hear tell of Long Barney '? 
 
 He dwelt near the groves of Killarney ; ' 
 
 One glance from his eye caused the girls all to sigh, 
 For they had a liking for Barney. 
 
 I’ll sing to you now of hisfightin’, 
 
 A thing which he took great delight in ; 
 
 He could handle the sthick, all the boys he could 
 lick, 
 
 And they all stood in fear of Long Barney. 
 
 He went to the fair — it was Aisther ; 
 
 In his pocket had many the tasther ; 
 
 He met Biddy Briggs, and wid her had jigs. 
 
 And she fell deep in love wid Long Barney. 
 
 So into a tent he did take her. 
 
 And he called for a drop of the crather ; 
 
 Wid his arms round her waist, her sweet lips he 
 did taste, 
 
 “ Oh !” she cried, don’t you smother me, Barney ?” 
 
 So up steps one Barhy O’Brien, 
 
 And Biddy, he long had his eye on ; 
 
 “ Arrah, Biddy,” says he, come over till me, 
 
 An’ don’t stop there whisperin’ till Barney.’,’ 
 
 Says Barney, I’ll soon make him toddle, 
 
 If I hit him a pelt on the noddle ; ” 
 
 Arrah, whack ! goes the stick, on the floor Barhy 
 kicks ; 
 
 “ Faith, I’ve dusted his jacket,” says Barney. 
 
 So Barney sits down by his Biddy, 
 
 For the whisky and fight made him giddy; 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 “ If there’s arah spalpeen ’ill step out on the green, 
 Faith, I’ll scuttle his noddle,” says Barney. 
 
 Wid a great deal of coaxin’ an’ twistin’, 
 
 Says Biddy, “ There’s no resistin’ ; 
 
 There’s my father, Tim Briggs, says he’s give a pig 
 To the man that’ll marry me, Barney.” 
 
 So now they’re united together, 
 
 And they slick till each other like leather ; 
 
 There’s Barney and Briggs, little children and pigs. 
 And they all sleep together with Barney. 
 
 Down the kitchen airy, when the mutton smil’d. 
 In its luscious beauty, roast or b’ild. 
 
 Crept a knowing Bobby, who possess’d the power 
 Of knowing Betty’s dinner hour. 
 
 In her cozy kitchen, not a little wild, 
 
 On^e she kept the supper ’till ’twas sp’ild, 
 
 And the gravy dried up, so (the case was rare) 
 
 She felt somewhat inclined to swear. 
 
 Where is my Bobby 7 Where can he be 1 
 To-night he was to come and sup with me ! 
 I’ve had a Hirish stew a-ready for this hour. 
 For Bobby Lee, the Airy Flower !” 
 
 Oh ! the case was rare, he never stayed so long. 
 From his little fairy — thought it wrong 
 To keep a lady waiting, and what’s even worse. 
 The dish he loved so well, of course. 
 
 When the twilight shadows gather’d in the west. 
 And the voice of hunger wouldn’t let him rest. 
 
 The Airy Flower. 
 
 Air:— ‘-The Prairie. Flower.” 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
66 Free and Easy 
 
 Like a crushing feeling not a little ril’d, 
 
 Lest Betty’s temper should be sp’ild. 
 
 There is my lilly,” softly sang he, 
 
 The light’s in- the airy, waiting forme. 
 Every one who knows her feels her gentle 
 power. 
 
 Like Bobby Lee, the Airy Flower.” 
 
 Feeling somewhat jaded, Betty upward cast, 
 
 A look — exclaiming, ‘‘ Here he comes at last ! 
 
 Oh ! he oughter been here (leavin’ me forlorn) 
 Mor’n two long hours agone !’* 
 
 Scarce had these angels whisper’d in each ear, 
 When lo ! “ What’s that — a footstep 1 ’tis, I fear !” 
 Cried Bobby, and he swore a wicked oath that 
 night. 
 
 Then cunningly put out the light. 
 
 Down came the missis, close to the door. 
 
 Bob made for the airy, Betty scream’d ‘ Oh, lor ! 
 I thought ’twas Barnum’s' ghost, mum, a tak- 
 ing off his tow’r. 
 
 Like Bobby Lee, the Airy Flower !” 
 
 Poor Old Horse Let Him Die. 
 
 My clothing once, alas my friends, was linsey wool- 
 sey fine. 
 
 My hair was brush’d off neatly, and gaily it did 
 shine ; 
 
 But now I am a growing old, and nature doth de- 
 cay, 
 
 My master he doth frown on me, and thus I heard 
 him say : 
 
 CHORUS. ’ ' 
 
 ’ You’re good for nothing now Old Horse ! 
 
 And then he passed me by, 
 
 I cannot give you Hay and Oats ! 
 
 Poor Old Horse let him die. 
 
Comic Songster. 67 
 
 M}" lodging once was on clean straw, and in a stable 
 warm, 
 
 To keep my active sturdy limbs from taking cold 
 or harm, 
 
 But now I am in open fields, compell’d in truth to 
 
 And bear cold frosty winters, the rain, the hail and 
 snow. 
 
 You’re good for, &c. 
 
 My feed was once the best of oats, and likewise well 
 cur’d hay, 
 
 As ever grew upon the lawn, or in the meadows 
 gay; 
 
 But no such comfort now I find, in the stable or 
 ■ clean stall, 
 
 I am forc’d to nab the short grass, that grows 
 around the wall. 
 
 You’re good for, &c. 
 
 My shoulders were both fat and fine, and clean and 
 smooth and round. 
 
 But corrupted, rotten and m,y wind it is unsound ; 
 
 And my founder’d old crack’d hoof, that once was 
 smooth and hard. 
 
 Is deem’d to be unworthy, to tread my master’s 
 yard. ' 
 
 . • You’re good for, &c. 
 
 ^ You eat my hay that’s costly, you also spoil my i 
 straw. 
 
 You’re not fit to ride, old horse, and my cart you 
 cannot draw; ^ 
 
 And you are blind and lame old horse, you’re lazy, 
 dull and slow. 
 
 I’ll drive you from my premises, to hunt your liv- 
 ing go. , 
 
 You’re good for, &c. 
 
68 Free and Easy 
 
 My skin, unto the Huntsman the tale who can be- 
 lieve ] 
 
 My flesh unto the hungry hounds, I shortly too 
 must give, 
 
 And noble form once nimble, that tra veil’d leagues 
 and miles, 
 
 O’er mountains, hedges, ditches, and leap’d o’er 
 gates and stiles. 
 
 You’re good for, &c. 
 
 The Shoddy Contractor. 
 
 Air ‘.—Fine “ Old Irish Gentleman.”-. By E. T. Johnson. 
 
 I’ll sing to you a little song, made by a modern pate. 
 
 About a shoddy cloth-contractor, who ojvns a fine 
 estate : 
 
 In a street called Fifth avenue, where big bugs 
 congregate. 
 
 And bears a good character though his hours are 
 somewhat late, 
 
 This shoddy cloth contractor of the present time. 
 
 Before this cruel war” broka out, he was what’s 
 termed a “ heat,” 
 
 And kept a small hand-me-down store in Chatham 
 street ; 
 
 His neighbors they all marked him down, as an 
 arrant cheat. 
 
 But now he’ll pass his poor friend by when’er they 
 chance to meet. 
 
 This shoddy cloth contractor, one of the present 
 time. 
 
 Now he keeps a stud of horses, the fastest in the 
 town. 
 
 Determined to outshine his neighbors Smith and 
 Brown ; 
 
Comic Songster 
 
 I In Broadway you may see him daily driving up 
 I and down, 
 
 And often at Delmonico’s sipping champagne 'he is 
 found, 
 
 This shoddy cloth contractor, one of the present 
 time. 
 
 He keeps his shoddy factory in a bye street near 
 Broadway, 
 
 Employs several hundred hands but gives them 
 little pay ; 
 
 And if a poor soldier’s wife works hard, she can 
 earn fifty cents a day. 
 
 To support her little ones at home, while her hus- 
 band’s far away. 
 
 From this shoddy cloth contractor, one of the 
 present day. 
 
 At the Sanitary fair, his name is on the list. 
 
 Of subscribers for one hundred dollars, but of course 
 that won’t be missed ; 
 
 He rents the finest pew in church and always stands 
 the grist. 
 
 For the next government contract puts fifty thou 
 sand in the fist. 
 
 Of this shoddy cloth contractor, one of the pres- 
 ent time. 
 
 At every war meeting, he is sure to be seen there, 
 
 On the speaker’s platform, sometimes he takes the 
 chair ; ■ ‘ ’ 
 
 Tho’ he can no more make a speech than Barnum’s 
 grizzly bear. 
 
 But he pays a man to write one, which he studies 
 with great care. 
 
 This shoddy cloth contractor, one of the present 
 time. 
 
 You can tell him in a thousand by his lofty mien 
 and tread. 
 
 I. 
 
yo Free and Easy 
 
 This shoddy cloth contractor, who has his country 
 hied ; 
 
 But tho’ justice may he sleeping, still she is not 
 dead. 
 
 And soon will her avenging sword fall upon the 
 heads — 
 
 Of all shoddy contractors, of the present time. 
 
 All Mankind Are Worms. 
 
 Air “ Bow, wow, wow.” 
 
 As all us mortals turn to clay, 
 
 When closed our mortal terms, sir, 
 
 I think we maj^ with reason say, 
 
 That all mankind are worms^ sir. , i 
 
 But as there’s some may douht this truth, 
 
 A.nd I like to he exact, sir, i 
 
 Your patience kindly grant me, while 
 I’ll try to prove the fact, sir. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Bow, wow, wow. 
 
 The Dandy he’s a tape-wovmt 
 Made up of stays and lace, sir. 
 
 The Tailor he’s a cabbaffe-worm, 
 
 That cuts your leaves with grace, sir. 
 
 The Lover he’s a glow-worm, 
 
 That shines hut to allure, sir. 
 
 The Husband he’s a ring-worm, 
 
 That old wives best can cure, sir. 
 
 Bow, wow, wow. 
 
 The Glutton he’s a meal-worm, ? 
 
 Still feeding night and day, sir. 
 
 The Drunkard, he’s a 5^///-worm, 
 
 That drinks his all away, sir. 
 
Comic Songster. 
 
 The Brewer he’s a w^/^-worm, 
 
 A ver)'" jolly one, sir, 
 
 The Farmer he’s a ^rw^-worm. 
 
 That grubs on in the sun, sir. 
 
 Bow, wow, wow. 
 
 The Scholar he’s a book-worm. 
 
 That best on learning feeds, sir. 
 
 The Miser he’s a muck-worm^ 
 
 That on a dunghill breeds, sii*. 
 
 The Rogue he’s but a blind-worm^ 
 
 That works on in the dark, sir. 
 
 The Coquette she’s a bait-worm^ 
 
 That angles for a spairk, sir. 
 
 Bow, wow, wow. 
 
 I 
 
 The Idler he’s a s/ot4?-worm. 
 
 With laziness he’s rife, sir, 
 
 The Soldier he’s a hlood-wormf 
 Still feeding upon life, sir. 
 
 A Maid she is a «e/Xr-worm, 
 
 That changes every day, sir, 
 
 And Love worm in bud' is, 
 
 That eats our peace away, sir. 
 
 Bow, wow, wow. 
 
 And thus, I think I’ve prov’d to you. 
 That all mankind are worms, sir. 
 
 Of different kinds and natures, too. 
 
 And different shapes and forms, sir. 
 And since that all our bodies go 
 To the worms at our tail end, sir. 
 Let’s hope, like joll}' hutierjUes, 
 
 That we may all ascend, sir. 
 
 Bow. wow. wow. 
 
72 Free and Easy 
 
 The Reason Why She Left Him. 
 
 Answer to “ Why Did She Leave Him ?” 
 
 Why did she leave him '? — Oh dear ! what a bother, 
 And fuss they are making everywhere ! 
 
 The reason I’ll tell you : why she had another, 
 
 And to call her deceitful is hardly fair. 
 
 He would stop out all night with girls of the fashion, 
 And would leave her in sorrow, which, you know, is 
 a sin ; ' ' , 
 
 He would drink like a fish, had a terrible passion ; 
 That’s one of the reasons why she has left him. 
 
 They say : he is united ; but that is a blunder. 
 
 In a drunken frolic, make no mistake, he is all there. 
 He would halloo and bawl, and roar like the thunder. 
 And quarrel with all when he went to the fair. 
 
 He was jealous, and vain, and very conceited, 
 
 And if got married, she' knows what would begin : 
 A pair of black eyes would be often repeated. 
 
 And this is the reason why she has left hini. 
 
 She has married another, and he keeps a carriage. 
 At least so the poets, who wrote of her say : 
 
 It’s a donkey and cart, — I’ve no wish to disparage. 
 Her pride’s only seen when she goes to the play ; 
 But if she walks out in the evening hours. 
 
 And sees her old bore, when drinking gin. 
 
 She quick hastens home, thanks her stars by the 
 powers; 
 
 And she is now very glad she has left him. 
 
 THE END. 
 

 I 
 
 
 
 
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