Collection of comic songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

Collection of comic songs

Written, Compil'd, Etch'd, and Engrav'd, by J. Robertson; and sung by him at the theatres Nottingham, Derby, Stamford, Halifax, Chesterfield, and Redford

Robertson, J. (fl. 1770-1790)

[section]

[Philosophers, do what you will]

A Medley.

Laugh with one Eye, and cry with the other.

LIFE'S COUNTRY DANCE.

The Great Booby.

Cloddy's Courtship in Thick-Puddle-Dale.

Love and Pudding, a Burlesque.

The Countryman's Discription of London.

Five-and-Twenty Fiddlers all on a row.

Young Paddy Murphy.

Let us all fall a yawning together.

BURLESQUE SONG.

Laughing Song.

THE CROOKED FAMILY, Or, more ROSCIUS'S than one.

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THE CROOKED FAMILY, Or, more ROSCIUS'S than one.

O don't you remember Dennis O'Clump,
A Gentleman by trade full of jibes & jeers,
'Twas Moll in the Wad, gave my heart a thump,
Tho' she smack'd my face and box'd my ears;
O'fie Sir says she, Arrah will have me,
Have pity you Devil, says I in a rage,
Now sure as a gun, we two are but one,
For we're married and live like two cats in a cage.

[Speaking]
To be sure I am always master of the house when my Wifes from home and our young ones crawl round us like pigs in a stye, then we feed 'em upon roast and boil'd (potatoes) and they drink nothing but Irish white wine, (butter milk my jewel) they thrive and are as good looking children as any man need wish to stick a knife into Sing

Fillelew, smallelew dithero whack,
I have Lords for my sons having humps on their back,
They snuffle they blink they walk awry,
And are christen'd the Crooked Family,

First Judy observe for beauty and grace,
Grey eyes like a cat, Pat Murphy they bother,
No handle she's got to her beautiful face,
So one eye you know always leers at the other;
She's mild in her speaking both sleeping and waking,
And scarce ever cried in her cradle good troth,
Her mouth is beside, like Temple Bar wide,
So we fed the dear child with the Ladle for broth,

(Speaking)
Oh! she was a sweet creature with a charming open countenance, for her mouth was from ear to ear, then she was so ingenious, she made all your fashionable straw bonnets with hay, but poor soul she came to an untimely end for running across the common Paddy Murphy's Bull kill'd her dead as a door nail, and the jury bad luck to 'em brought it in Manslaughter, for the loss of her I could not help crying,

Fillelew Smallelew &c. Chorus.

I have two other Daughters boath Irishmen born
And take after me arrah! faith I'm no joker,
With a pair of black eyes as brisk as the morn
Like two holes in a blanket thats burnt by a poker

Hair like candlewicks, and cheeks red as bricks
With a neat row of teeth oh! she's two by my soul
Her lips in a bustle will ope' like a muscle
And her tongue lays between like a toad in a hole.

(Speaking)
One of them is a sly devil and often wears her stockings on the wrong way outwards to hide a hole on the other side, and the other I'm afraid will live single because “The little Gipsey cocks her nose” and I have remarked that your cock'd up noses are very fond of saying no. Arrah will kiss me my dear Alley croker? No no; Arrah will you marry me my dear Alley Croker No no no no no no. Is to be wonder'd at then that all these cock'd up noses are generally Old Maids, and are oblig'd to grunt,

Fillelew Smallelew &c. Chorus.

My Elder Boy Phelim gets drunk as a beast
For a Pendelum surely his snout has the power,
Yet he never quarrels or scolds in the least,
Only phillip his nose it will shake for an hour,
His brother no hum is as deaf as a drum,
Should you sing e'er so loud watch your lips he'll begin
Both Incledon Braham to him are the same
He'll cry “Lord how they're grip'd father bring 'em some gin.

(Speaking)
To be sure I can't help being vex'd with him myself now and then because whenever I want any thing in a hurry, he comes with his stupid way saying, did you want me Papa? Begone you spalpeen don't you see I'm angry? Oh you're hungry. Get along or I'll knock out your Brains! A Calve's Head and Brains. I'll knock your head off your shoulders! Oh! you want a Cods head and shoulders. Lets have non of your sauce. Oh some Cockle sauce! Begone or I'll beat you to a Jelly! What a Cod's head with a pudding in its belly. Sing,

Fillelew &c. Chorus.

I've one other child a wonder good lack
Like a Cuckoo he'll sing on a cold frosty morn
His temper's as smooth as a Crocodile's back
When his body's erect it's like a Rams horn
He snuffles with all tho' his voice is but small
With a queer looking squnit and a cast of his eye,
Fine singers can mock, just like a Peacock,
And he's got a beautiful short leg and thigh.

(Speaking)
Oh! I intend to bring him out on the London stage as a Young Roscius, in the crooked line, and he'll bother the Cockneys, for give 'em any thing out of the common way and they

swallow it down like butter milk. I have offer'd him to the Managers of this Theatre, but they give him no encouragement and be hang'd to 'em. (Snuffling) I am come to offer myself as a Young Roscius. “But I doubt you are not aware that your face is not very Handsome? No more is Mr. ------ “Then you have a little of the Brouge.” So has Mr. ------ “You are rather inclin'd to be knock knee'd.” So is Mr. ------ “You are rather short.” So is Mr. ------ “You are too comical.” So is Mr. ------ “Now and then you speak rather loud.” So does Mr. ------ “But you sing worse than you act.” So does Mr. ------ “Then you take too many liberties.” So does Mr. Robertson. But then you have all these defects combined.” So much the more singular, and likelier to succeed as a Young Roscius. Sing.

Fillelew smallelew dithero whack,
To encourage Young Roscius your hands give a clap,
He'll snuffle and squint and walk awry,
And bring fame to the Crooked Family.