_NEDDY._ Then let me, dear Betty, meet better luck still, Come, give me thy heart and thy hand with good will; You know I am honest, my vows are sincere, From all the deceits of vile rascals quite clear. Derry down, &c. _BETTY._ So many false villains but court to deceive, We virgins in prudence should slowly believe; If they can but the punishing laws once escape, They fear not the devil, his torments, or shape. Derry down, &c. _NEDDY._ May all worthy millers grind such rascals down, Till neither their dust nor their ashes are known; Here’s my hand, dearest Bett! for life let us join, Consent--and to morrow my _all_ shall be thine. Derry down, &c. _BETTY._ Dear Ned! I believe, and to-morrow shall see, How blessing and blest honest lovers can be; _The crow’s nest in Gateshead_ full witness may prove, That none but vile _fools_ are deceitful in love. Derry down, down, hey derry down. [16] St John’s Lodge, No. 184, Free Masons’ Hall, Low Friar Street, Newcastle, dedicated October 18th, 1777, was some years after disused and converted into the Dispensary. THE FRENCH INVASION. _Published May 10th, 1794._ Some wags, taking advantage of the alarm of invasion in March, 1794, sent two letters, with the counterfeit signatures of two magistrates in Northumberland, to the Mayor of Newcastle, stating, that a party of French had landed on the coast, near Bambrough; this occasioned some bustle in Newcastle; 270l. reward was afterward offered in vain for the discovery of the writers. “Now fill a bumper to the brim, “And drink to _Gotham’s mayor_; “And when again he hears such news, “May _Fa----berg_ be there.” Thus lately in a loyal song, Sung some right loyal bard; And righteous too, no doubt was he, For lo! his prayer was heard. News, direful news from BAMBRO’ came, The _French_ were landed there; A letter, written with all speed, Was sent to _Gotham’s mayor_. “The crews of three French ships of war, Have landed in our coast, Send for _Lord F----berg_,” quoth he, “Or we shall all be lost. “Our bullocks they have ta’en away, Our cows and sheep besides.” “O woe betide them,” says our _mayor_, “They’ll raise the _price_ of HIDES.” “Fear not, fear not,” says _F----berg_, Who now before him stood, “To guard you I will spend my last, Last drop of noble blood!” On this our _mayor_ began to hold Erect his drooping head; “I will not,” quoth _Lord F----berg_, “This night lay down my head. “To guard-house I will hie with speed, And watch ’till morn appear; Each _Gothamite_ may soundly sleep, No cause have they to fear.” “Meantime” says _Gotham’s mayor_, “I will In haste, a letter write To George our king, some ships to send, To intercept their flight.”