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And your plack, and my plack,
And Jenny‘s bawbee.
And a that, &c.
We‘ll put it in the pint stoup,
The pint stoup, the pint stoup,
We‘ll put it in the pint stoup,
And birle‘t a‘ three.
And a‘ that e'er my Jenny had,
My Jenny had, &c.
The Cobler's Marriage.
Last week I got a wife,
And when I first did woo her,
I vow‘d to stick through life
Like cobler‘s wax unto her:
But soon we went by some mishap,
To loggerheads together,
And when my wife began to strap,
Why I began to leather.
My wife without her shoes,
Is hardly three feet seven,
And I, to all men's views,
Am full, five feet eleven;
So when to take her down some pegs.
I drabb'd her neat and clever;
She made a bolt right through my legs,
And ran away for ever.
