At last he sat down, not a little exhausted with the
violent exertion, but the liquor made him peeowerful thick-legged, and
his track warn't a bee line, I tell you. After a while a song was
proposed, and Mary entreated him to favour us with one.
"Dear Miss," said he, "pretty Miss," and his mouth resembled that of a
cat contemplating a pan of milk that it cannot reach, "lovely maiden,
willingly would I comply, if Sall Mody (Psalmody) will do, but I have
forgotten my songs."
"Try this," said I, and his strong, clear voice rose above us all, as
he joined us in--
"Yes, Lucy is a pretty girl,
Such lubly hands and feet,
When her toe is in the Market-house,
Her heel is in Main Street.
"Oh take your time, Miss Lucy,
Miss Lucy, Lucy Long,
Rock de cradle, Lucy,
And listen to de song."
He complained of thirst and fatigue after this, and rising, said, "I
am peeowerful dry, by jinks," and helped himself so liberally, that he
had scarcely resumed his seat before he was fast asleep, and so
incapable of sustaining himself in a sitting posture, that we removed
him to the sofa, and loosening his cravat, placed him in a situation
where he could repose comfortably. We then all stood round the
evangelical "Come-outer," and sang in chorus:
"My old master, Twiddledum Don,
Went to bed with his trousers on,
One shoe off, and the other shoe on--
That's the description of Twiddledum Don.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186