THE DASHY, SPLASHY.... LITTLE STRINGER [Notes] [1841] [By LEMAN REDE, being Kit's Song in _Sixteen-String Jack_]. I A cloudy night, and pretty hard it blow'd, The dashy, splashy, leary little stringer, [1] Mounted his roan, and took the road-- Phililoo! "My Lord Cashall's on the road to-night, Down with the lads, make my lord alight-- Ran dan row de dow, on we go!" _Chorus_.--Ran, dan, etc. II "You horrid wretch," said my Lord to Rann-- The dashy, splashy, leary little stringer-- "How dare you rob a gentleman?" Phililoo! Says Jack, says he, with his knowing phiz, [2] "I ain't very pertic'lar who it is! Ran dan row de dow, on we go!" _Chorus_.--Ran, dan, etc. III Ve collar'd the blunt, started off for town, [3] With the dashy, splashy, leary little stringer, Horses knock'd up, men knock'd down-- Phililoo! A lady's carriage we next espied, I collar'd the blunt, Jack jumped inside, Ran dan row de dow, on we go! _Chorus_.--Ran, dan, etc. IV Jack took off his hat, with a jaunty air-- The dashy, splashy, leary little stringer-- And he kiss'd the lips of the lady fair-- Phililoo! She sigh'd a sigh, and her looks said plain, I don't care much if I'm robb'd again! Ran dan row de dow, on we go! _Chorus_.--Ran, dan, etc. [1: spirited horse] [2: wink] [3: money] THE BOULD YEOMAN [Notes] [1842] [By PIERCE EGAN in _Captain Macheath_]. I A chant I'll tip to you about a High-pad pal so down, [1] With his pops, and high-bred prad which brought to him renown; [2] On the road he cut a dash, to him 'twas delight! And if culls would not surrender, he shewed the kiddies fight! [3] With his pops so bright and airy, And his prad just like a fairy, He went out to nab the gold! [4] Derry down, down, derry down, II He met a bould yeoman, and bid him for to stand; "If I do, I'm damn'd!" said he, "although you cut it grand. I'm an old English farmer, and do not me provoke I've a cudgel, look ye here, it's a prime tough bit of oak! And I'll give you some gravy, [5] Of that I'll take my davy, [6] If you try to prig my gold [7] Derry down." III Then the High-toby gloque drew his cutlass so fine; Says he to the farmer, "you or I for the shine!" And to it they went both, like two Grecians of old, Cutting, slashing, up and down, and all for the gold! 'Twas cut for cut while it did last, Thrashing, licking, hard and fast, Hard milling for the gold. [8] Derry down. IV