I went to the play, I went to the park, saw the king, To see all the grand sights I were willing, But when I came at night to count o'er my brass, Egad I found I'd took two bad shillings. "If the Yorkshire lads were to know it," says I, "Oh dear how they would teaze me." But some kind friend shall have them again, If they dont, why--Jemmy Johnson squeeze me. A fine lady came up, half drunk in the street, Thinking for me to nicely trepan, sir; For you see I being drest in my best, She called me a handsome young man, sir; "And sir, if along with me you'll go," says she, "I think as how I should so please ye." So I went--and I gave her the two bad shillings, If I didn't--Jemmy Johnson squeeze me. Then a stranger came up, says he, "My dear friend, I'm glad in London to meet you; Do you know me?" says he--says I, "Very well, Come to the public house and I'll treat you." So I called for the liquor--got half drunk, Where the chap he thought to ease me, But I walked me away, left him the reckoning to pay, If I didn't--Jemmy Johnson squeeze me. Then another chap called me on the other side, Says he, "Look, I've found a gold ring, sir, If you'll ten shillings give me, yours it shall be." "Oh!" says I, "'tis a grand looking thing, sir, But I tell you what, my sweet London chap, Dont think of my money to ease me, For a Yorkshire lad knows brass from gold, If he don't--then Jemmy Johnson squeeze me." I was tired of their tricks, says I, "I'll go home, While all's right, tight, and comely; For a rolling stone gathers no moss, And home is home if it's ever so homely." But I made 'em remember 'for I left town, They thought how it did please me, That the Yorkshire lad was not to be had, If he was--Jemmy Johnson squeeze me. THE TRYAL OF PATIENCE.[205] Being a relation of a widow in Yorkshire, who, having buried her husband, and left seven small children, was reduced to great poverty, and turned out of house and home; then going to her husband's brother, being a rich man, in hopes of finding relief, but instead thereof he threatened them with cruelty. With an account of a lady's love at the greatest time of her distress. To the tune of "_In Summer Time_." A loving couple in Yorkshire, They having seven children small, When poverty was so severe, They had for them no food at all. As I the naked truth may speak, Their father was in grief and woe, Three years he lay both sick and weak, This was enough to bring them low. They sold their cattle, corn, and hay, With other goods they parted free, Till all they had was made away, In this their sad extremity. After the term of three long years, Which he thus languishing did lye, Upon his bed, with brinish tears, He said, "Farewell, here now I dye."