Volume 25 — SONGS OF THE MENDICANTS.
Reading edition
No. 1.—THE SAILOR BEGGAR'S SONG.
I'm a jolly London sailor; Gaily still I keep afloat, With the picture of a Whaler, And the model of a boat. True, I ne'er was on the Ocean, But I've travelled wide and far, Kept by the police in motion. Pity a Whitechapel Tar!
Shivered are my timbers, stranger; Lame, you see, is poor Jack Junk: Yes, I got this, braving danger, (Falling from a scaffold drunk). On my forehead see depicted Valour's honourable scar ('T was with a pint pot inflicted). Pity a Whitechapel Tar!
Glazed my hat and blue my jacket, White my trowsers, loose my tie; Seaman's costume, when I lack it, Down at Houndsditch I can buy. Naval talk I've learnt in places Where the British seamen are; "Furl the main-top," "splice the braces." Pity a Whitechapel Tar!
Nursemaids, from your upper casements Throw the halfpence freely down; Cooks from areas and from basements, On the sailor do not frown. Bring the joints out, if we ask it, Distant is the seaman's star; (Here's the plate! I'll prig the basket). Pity a Whitechapel Tar!
Toast and Water.—A Toast proposed at a Temperance Meeting.