Now this little old woman went off in a trot, All in a fury, hot, hot, hot! Sure such boys as these never were known, They never will let a poor woman alone, There’s a moral from this, so round let it buz If you want to sell codlings, you must never get muz. This song, was, as far I can find, introduced by Grimaldi in Thos. J. Dibdin’s famous Pantomime of “Mother Goose,” which in 1806-7 had the unprecedented run of a hundred and fifty nights, and was a favourite for very many years. When Pantomimes were Pantomimes, and not mere spectacles, the clowns were real clowns (the Shakesperian and French hybrids not having been born), and the names of Grimaldi, Matthews, and others will go down to posterity. No Pantomime was complete without the clown singing this song, which was always encored, and, as a substitute, invariably was given “Tippetiwitchet,” of which the theme was an intoxicated man. Perhaps, if revived, Modern Society would not appreciate them, but forty or fifty years ago tastes were not so superfine, and these clowns and their songs afforded hilarious amusement. [Illustration] _THE WONDERFUL CROCODILE._ NOW list, ye landsmen, all to me, To tell you the truth I am bound, What happen’d to me, by going to Sea, And of the wonders which I found. Shipwrecked I once was off Perouse, And cast upon the shore, So I resolved to take a cruise, The Country to explore. But far I had not scudded out, When close alongside to the ocean, I saw something move, which at first I thought, Was all the earth in motion. But steering up alongside, I found ’twas a Crocodile, And from his nose to the tip of his tail He measured five hundred mile. This Crocodile, I could plainly see, Was not of a common race, For I was obliged to climb a very high tree Before I could see his face. And when he lifted up his jaw, Though perhaps you'll think 'twas a lie, It reach'd 'bove the clouds for miles three score, And his nose nearly touched the sky. Whilst up aloft, and the stream was high, It blew a gale from the south, I lost my hold, and away did fly, Right into the Crocodile's mouth. He quickly closed his jaws on me, And thought to grab a victim, But I ran down his throat d'ye see, And that's the way I tricked him. I travell'd on for a month or two, Till I got into his maw, Where I found of rum kegs not a few, And a thousand bullocks in store. Of life I banish'd all my cares, For in grub I was not stinted, So in this Crocodile I lived ten years, Very well contented.