Bart'lemy fair/Bart'lemy fair

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BARTHOLOMEW FAIR.

Come bustle, neighbour Prig,
Buckl on your Sunday wig,
In our Sunday clothes so gaily,
Let us strut up the Old Bailey.
Oh! the devil take the rain,
We may never go again;
See, the shows have begun—O rare O!
Remember Mr Snip,
To take Mrs Snip,—
That's the little boy from Flanders,
And that there's Master Saunders—
Stand aside, and we'll have a stare, O!

High down, O down, derry derry down,
O the humours of Bartlemy Fair O!

Spoken.] Valk up, ladies and gentlemen, here's the wonderful birds and beastesses from Bengal in the Vest Indies. Here, ma'am, only look at this beautiful hanimal; no two spots on his body alike; it's out of the power of any limmer to describe him; measures fifteen feet from the snout to the tail, and fifteen feet from the tail to the snout; grows an inch and a half every year, and never comes to its proper growth, Turn him up there with a long pole.

High down, &c.

When the fair is at the full,
In gallops a mad bull,
Puts the rabble to the rout,
Lets all the lions out;
Down falls Mrs Snip,
With a monkey on her hip,—
We shall all be swallow'd up, I declare, O.
Roaring boys, gilded toys,
Lollipops, Shilling hops,
Tumble in, just begin,
Cups and balls, wooden walls,
Gin and bitters, apple fritters,
Shins of beef, Stop thief!
Lost shoes, Kangaroos,
O Polly, where's Molly!
Bow wow, What a row!

High down, &c.

Now the beasts with hungry tooth,
In anger 'tack the booth;
Away affrighted run
Birds and eagles of the sun;
Down tumbles trot-legg'd Rolla,
Who tips 'em the view holla;
Poor Cora's in the mud—O rare O!

Spoken] Here, Valk up, ladies and, gentlemen. Here's the vonderful kangaroo from Botomhouse Bay. Here's the vonderful large baboon, that danc'd a Paddy-dow, and played at ⟨leap⟩ frog with the celebrated Muster Barrington. Here's the vonderful cow that can't live on the land, and dies in the water; the vonderful sun eagle, the hotter the sun, the higher he flies. Billy, run and stuff a blanket in that hole, or the little boys vill peep for nothing. Here! here! valk! valk!—Suppose you think this man's alive; he's no more alive than you are. Now’s your time to see that vonderful vooden Roscius, Mr Punch, for the small charge of one penny;—(Mimicking Punch.)

High down, O down, derry derry down,
What whirligigs of Bartlemy Fair, O.