Volume 5 — The Jovial Tinker.
Reading edition
[Listen]
THERE was a Jovial Tinker, Which was a good Ale drinker; He never was a Shrinker, Believe me this is true; And he came from the wild of Kent, When all his Money was gone and spent, Which made him look like a Jack-a-Lent, And Joan’s Ale is new, And Joan’s Ale is new Boys, And Joan’s Ale is new. The Tinker he did settle, Most like a Man of Mettle, And vow’d to pawn his Kettle, Now mark what did ensue; His Neighbours they flock’d in apace, To see Tom Tinker’s comely Face, Where they drank soundly for a space, Whilst Joan’s Ale, &c. The Cobler and the Broom Man, Came next into the Room, Man, And said they would drink for boon Man, Let each one take his due; But when good Liquor they had found, They cast their Caps upon the Ground, And so the Tinker he drank round, Whilst Joan’s Ale, &c. The Rag-Man being weary, With the Burden he did carry, He swore he would be merry, And spend a Shilling or two; And he told his Hostess to her Face, The Chimney-corner was his Place, And he began to drink apace, And Joan’s Ale, &c. The Pedlar he drew nigher, For it was his desire, To throw the Rags i’th’ Fire, And burn the bundle blue; So whilst they drank whole Flashes, And threw about the Glasses, The Rags were burnt to Ashes, And Joan’s Ale, &c.
The Second PART.
AND then came in a Hatter, To see what was the matter, He scorn’d to drink cold Water, Amongst that Jovial Crew; And like a Man of Courage stout, He took the Quart-Pot by the Snout, And never left till all was out, O Joan’s Ale, &c. The Taylor being nimble, With Bodkin, Shears and Thimble, He did no whit dissemble, I think his name was True; He said that he was like to choak, And he call’d so fast for Lap and Smoak, Until he had pawn’d the Vinegar Cloak, For Joan’s Ale, &c. Then came a pitiful Porter, Which often did resort there, Quoth he, I’ll shew some Sport here, Amongst the Jovial Crew; The Porter he had very bad luck, Before that it was ten a Clock, The Fool got Drunk, and lost his Frock, For Joan’s Ale, &c. The bonny brave Shoe-maker, A brave Tobacco taker, He scorn’d to be a Quaker, I think his Name was Hugh; He call’d for Liquor in so fast, Till he forgot his Awl and Last, And up the Reckoning he did cast, Whilst Joan’s Ale, &c. And then came in the Weaver, You never saw a braver, With a Silk Man and a Glover, Tom Tinker for to view; And so to welcom him to Town, They every Man spent half a Crown, And so the Drink went merrily down, For Joan’s Ale, &c. Then came a Drunken Dutchman, And he would have a touch, Man, But he soon took too much, Man, Which made them after rue; He drank so long as I suppose, ’Till greasie Drops fell from his Nose, And like a Beast befoul’d his Hose, Whilst Joan’s Ale, &c. A Welchman he came next, Sir, With Joy and Sorrow Mixt, Sir, Who being partly vex’d, Sir, He out his Dagger drew; Cuts-plutter-a-nails, quoth Taffy then, A Welchman is a Shentleman, Come Hostess fill’s the other Cann, For Joan’s Ale, &c. Thus like to Men of Courage stout, Couragiously they drank about, Till such time all the Ale was out, As I may tell to you; And when the Business was done, They every man departed home, And promis’d Joan again to come, When she had Brew’d anew.
