With my bottle and glass some hours I pass, Sometimes with my friend, and sometimes with my lass: I'm frolicsome, good-natur'd--I'm happy and free, And I don't care one jot what the world thinks of me. By the cares of the nation I'll ne'er be perplex'd, I'm always good-natur'd, e'en though I am vex'd; I'm frolicsome, good-humour'd--I'm happy and free, And I don't care one d----n what the world thinks of me. 1 A circumstance very similar to the one here narrated by Sparkle actually occurred, and can be well authenticated. 2 Rorytorious--Noisy. 3 This song is not introduced for the elegance of its composition, but as the Author has actually heard it in the streets at the flight of night or the peep of day, sung in full chorus, as plain as the fumes of the pipes and the hiccups would allow the choristers at those hours to articulate; and as it is probably the effusion of some Shopmate in unison with the sentiments of many, it forms part of Real Life deserving of being recorded in this Work. Particular trades have particular songs suitable to the employment in which they are engaged, which while at work the whole of the parties will join in. In Spitalfields, Bethnal-green, &c. principally inhabited by weavers, it is no uncommon thing to hear twenty or thirty girls singing, with their shuttles going--The Death of Barbary Allen--There was an old Astrologer--Mary's Dream, or Death and the Lady; and we remember a Watch-maker who never objected to hear his boys sing; but although he was himself a loyal subject, he declared he could not bear God Save the King; and upon being ask'd his reason--Why, said he, it is too slow--for as the time goes, so the fingers move--Give us _Drops of Brandy_, or _Go to the Devil and Shake Yourself_--then I shall have some work done. ~159~~This Song, which was repeated three or four times, was continued till their arrival at Newport-market, where the Songsters divided: our party pursued their way through Coventry-street, and arrived without further adventure or interruption safely at home. Sparkle bade them adieu, and proceeded to Bond-street; and Tom and Bob sought the repose of the pillow. It is said that “Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast,” and it cannot but be allowed that the _Yo heave ho_, of our Sailors, or the sound of a fiddle, contribute much to the speed of weighing anchor.