The songs of Joseph Mather

In Knock-'em-down Alley
I saw Tom and Sally;
Both lay sensless, as if they had been slain:
I could not help thinking
But they had been drinking
Too freely of smit'em, cut-throat, and tear-brain;
I told our old woman
Her drink was uncommon,
Since two of her customers thus were done o'er;
One quart of her stingo
Would make the dumb sing-o,
The man that falls with it will never rise more.

CHORUS.

The brewer excuses,
For all these abuses.
That range thro' the country exciting alarm;
'Tis not her resentment,
Witchcraft, nor enchantment,
But working her liquor with Shout-'em-down's barm.

Last Sabbath day morning
Will sure be a warning
To Turton, who felt the effects of our drink;
He spent but one farthing,
Reel'd into the garden,
And in a few moments was down in the sink;
Knee-deep in the gutter,
He made a strong flutter;
Like one that was drowning, he catch'd by the edge;
If timely assistance
Had been at a distance,
His church must have been overhead in the sludge.

John Hallam, last summer,
Who took a full brimmer
Of old hock and knock-'em-down, instantly fell;
Ah! what can the matter be?
If he no better be,
Justice will grant no more licence to sell;
Some strong Taylor's brandy
We bottled last Monday;
On Tuesday, like shots all the corks took their flight,
With much circumspection,
One took a direction,
Twas found below Masbro' on Saturday night.

Whoever engages
Spitfire and outrageous,
I tell them, lest I should my friends disoblige,
Must dread an explosion,
And handle with caution
Those vessels which burst like bombshells in a siege;
Should Wainwright and Rowley,
Dame Hoyland unweildly,
Brown, Carnelly, Hartley, Eyre, Handley, and Steel,
All burst on the gantry,
And o'erflow the country,
The works on the Don must the consequence feel.

One morning young Nelly
Came with her big belly,
Requesting a bottle against she lay in;
Soon as she departed
Behold how she started,
When out flew the cork, like the crack of a gun,
As swift as an arrow
It kill'd a cock sparrow,
A crow and a swallow, (if 'tis not a lie,)
Astonish'd each neighbour,
Threw Nell into labour,
And brought down a wild goose three hundred yards high.

University of Virginia Library

SONG XXXVI. SHOUT 'EM DOWN'S BARM.

CHORUS.