Says th’ Exciseman, let’s see your Permit, Says Mike, ’Tain’t convenient to show it, T’other cried, Sir, I’m not to be bit, For you’ve smuggled that stuff, and you know it. Your hogs to a fine market you’ve brought, For seeing you’ve paid no excise, As Custom has settled you ought, I seize on your tub, as my prize. Now, do not be hard, said poor Mike, The Exciseman was deaf to complaint, Why then, take it, said Mike, if you like, For I’ve borne it till ready to faint. For miles in hot sunshine they trudg’d, Till on them, they scarce had a dry rag, Th’ Exciseman his labour ne’er grudged, But carefully carried his cag. To the Custom House, in the next town, ’Twas yet some three furlongs or more, Then says Michael, pray set your load down, For this here, Sir, is my Cottage door. ’Tother answered, I thank you, friend, No, My burden, just yet, I shan’t quit, Then, says Michael, before you do go I’ll get you to read my permit. Your Permit! Why not show it before? Because it came into my nob, By your watching for me on the shore, That your worship was wanting a job. Now, I’d need of a porter, d’ye see, For that load made my bones for to crack, And so, Sir, I thank you for me, And wish you a pleasant walk back. _GILES SCROGGINS GHOST._ GILES SCROGGIN courted Molly Brown, Fol de riddle lol, de riddle lido, The fairest wench in all the town, Fol de riddle, etc. He bought her a ring with a posy true, If you loves I, as I loves you, No knife can cut our loves in two. Fol de riddle, etc. But Scissars cut, as well as knives, Fol de riddle, etc. And quite unsartain’s all our lives, Fol de riddle, etc. The day they were to have been wed, Fate’s scissars cut poor Giles’s thread, So they could not be mar-ri-ed. Fol de riddle, etc. Poor Molly laid her down to weep, Fol de riddle, etc. And cried herself quite fast asleep, Fol de riddle, etc. When standing fast by her bed-post, A figure tall, her sight engross’d, And it cried, I be Giles Scroggin’s ghost. Fol de riddle, etc. The ghost it said all solemnly, Fol de riddle, etc. Oh! Molly, you must go with me, Fol de riddle, etc. All to the grave your love to cool, Says she, I am not dead, you fool, Says the ghost, says he, vy, that’s no rule. Fol de riddle, etc. The ghost then seiz’d her all so grim, Fol de riddle, etc. All for to go along with him, Fol de riddle, etc. Come, come, said he, e’er morning beam, I von’t, said she, and scream’d a scream, Then she woke, and found she’d dream’d a dream. Fol de riddle, etc. [Illustration] _THE STRANGE MAN._