Songs of a pleb . here the smiling bulldog sits down at the gate, With his head full of teeth and his heart lull of hate. SONGS OF A PLEB. Where the big country girl considers your ways,And laughs at your clothes as she standeth to gaze,Where she grins at your collar and tall plug hat,And talks to her mother about your cravat,.Then see her big brother with hay-seeded hair,With his pants in his boots make ready to swearAnd fume in your presence for cutting a dash,And scold his fat sister for making a mash. Afar in the country I love to ride,With a 44 navy strapped onto my side,Where the Spanish
Songs of a pleb . here the smiling bulldog sits down at the gate, With his head full of teeth and his heart lull of hate. SONGS OF A PLEB. Where the big country girl considers your ways,And laughs at your clothes as she standeth to gaze,Where she grins at your collar and tall plug hat,And talks to her mother about your cravat,.Then see her big brother with hay-seeded hair,With his pants in his boots make ready to swearAnd fume in your presence for cutting a dash,And scold his fat sister for making a mash. Afar in the country I love to ride,With a 44 navy strapped onto my side,Where the Spanish needle cometh through to my hide,And beggar lice into my hair become tied,Where the boys all meet by the light of the moon,And dive in the woods in search of the coon,And steal all the chickens that roost on the fence,And have a rare feast at their neighbors expense,Where they all leave me to wonder and grin,A-holding the bag to catch the coons in,Where I stay two days without any food,To me, is Natures SONGS OF A PLEB. 81 THE MYSTERY OF A MUSTACHE. This is a tale of sad mishaps, When virgins walked the streets,When school-boys and the other chaps Were baffled by dead beats ;Yes, then I wood a lass most fair,With rosy cheeks and curly hair,With winning ways, as light as air,And eyes, so shy, without a stare. Well, T was struck with that sweet face, How foolish one can be !My confidence was out of place, Which I could never see ;Although a lad from other climes,Yet I was rather green those times —I went to school and wrote odd rhymes,And spent, for chewing gum, my dimes. A harness-maker came to town. He was a tramp they say,He cut my rising spirits down And won my girl had a cane, a faded coat,And whisker* like a William goat,And so, my dear began to dote. And sent to me a saucy note. 82 SONGS OF A PLEB. He often with the others met My sweetheart in the choir,And somehow his appearance set Her bosom all on fire;So he was introduced one night,Which knocked m
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidsongsofpleb0, bookyear1883
