Jack had a sharp-looking eye to ogle, [6] And soon he began to nap the fogle! [7] And ever anxious to get his whack-- When scarcely ripe, he went on the crack. [8] Foddy, loddy, high O. V "Now, my chick," says she, "you must take the road 'Tis richer than the finest abode, For watches, purses, and lots of the gold-- A scampsman, you know, must always be bold." [9] Foddy, loddy, high O. VI His mother then did give Jack some advice, To her son a thief, who was not o'er nice; Says she--"Fight your way, Jack, and stand the brunt, You're of no use, my child, without the blunt, [10] Foddy, loddy, high O." VII "Then keep it up, Jack, with rare lots of fun. A short life, perhaps, but a merry one; Your highway dodges may then live in fame, Cheat miss-Fortune, and be sure to die game." Foddy, loddy, high O. VIII "In spite of bad luck, don't be a grumbler; If you are finished off from a tumbler! [11] But to the end of your life, cut a shine, You're not the first man got into a line." Foddy, loddy, high O. [1: child] [2: feet] [3: accomplished;] [4: thief] [5: round for theft] [6: leer] [7: steal; handkerchief] [8: housebreaking] [9: highwayman] [10: money] [11: cart; Notes] THE CADGER'S BALL [Notes] [1852] [From JOHN LABERN'S _Popular Comic Song Book_. Tune--_Joe Buggins._]. I Oh, what a spicy flare-up, tear-up, Festival Terpsickory, Was guv'd by the genteel cadgers In the famous Rookery. As soon as it got vind, however, Old St Giles's vos to fall-- They all declar'd, so help their never, They'd vind up vith a stunnin' ball! Tol, lol lol, etc. II Jack Flipflap took the affair in hand, sirs-- Who understood the thing complete-- He'd often danced afore the public, On the boards, about the streets. Old Mother Swankey, she consented To lend her lodging-house for nix-- [1] Say's she, 'The crib comes down to-morrow, So, go it, just like beans and bricks.' [2] Tol, lol lol, etc. III The night arrived for trotter-shaking-- [3] To Mother Swankey's snoozing-crib; [4] Each downy cadger was seen taking His bit of muslin, or his rib. [5] Twelve candles vos stuck into turnips, Suspended from the ceiling queer-- Bunn's blaze of triumph was all pickles To this wegetable shandileer. Tol, lol lol, etc. IV Ragged Jack, wot chalks 'Starvation !' Look'd quite fat and swellish there-- While Dick, wot 'dumbs it' round the nation, Had all the jaw among the fair. Limping Ned wot brought his duchess, At home had left his wooden pegs-- And Jim, wot cadges it on crutches, Vos the nimblest covey on his legs. Tol, lol lol, etc. V