Musa Pedestris - Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes [1536 - 1896] - LightNovelsOnl.com
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THE GAME OF HIGH TOBY [Notes]
[1834]
[By W. HARRISON AINSWORTH in _Rookwood_].
I
Now Oliver puts his black night-cap on, [1]
And every star its glim is hiding, [2]
And forth to the heath is the scampsman gone, [3]
His matchless cherry-black prancer riding; [4]
Merrily over the Common, he flies, Fast and free as the rush of rocket, His c.r.a.pe-covered vizard drawn over his eyes, His tol by his side and his pops in his pocket. [5]
_Chorus_.
Then who can name So merry a game, As the game of all games--high-toby? [6]
II
The traveller hears him, away! away!
Over the wide, wide heath he scurries; He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay, But ever the faster and faster he hurries,
But what daisy-cutter can match that black t.i.t? [7]
He is caught--he must 'stand and deliver'; Then out with the dummy, and off with the bit, [8]
Oh! the game of high-toby for ever!
_Chorus_.
Then who can name So merry a game As the game of all games--high-toby?
III
Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys, To compare with the game of high-toby; No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys, [9]
To blue devils, blue plumbs give the go-by; [10]
And what if, at length, boys, he come to the c.r.a.p! [11]
Even rack punch has _some_ bitter in it, For the mare-with-three-legs, boys, I care not a rap, [12]
'Twill be over in less than a minute!
_Chorus_.
Then hip, hurrah!
Fling care away!
Hurrah for the game of high-toby!
[1: the moon]
[2: light]
[3: highwayman]
[4: black horse]
[5: sword; pistols]
[6: high-way robbery]
[7: fleet horse; horse]
[8: pocketbook]
[9: highwayman]
[10: bullets]
[11: gallows]
[12: gallows]
THE DOUBLE CROSS [Notes]
[1834]
[By W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, in _Rookwood_]
I
Though all of us have heard of crost fights, And certain gains, by certain lost fights; I rather fancies that its news, How in a mill, both men should lose; [1]
For vere the odds are thus made even, It plays the d.i.c.kens with the steven: [2]
Besides, against all rule they're sinning, Vere neither has no chance of vinning.
Ri, tol, lol, etc.
II
Two milling coves, each vide awake, Vere backed to fight for heavy stake; But in the mean time, so it vos, Both kids agreed to play a cross; Bold came each buffer to the scratch, [3]
To make it look a tightish match; They peeled in style, and bets were making, [4]
'Tvos six to four, but few were taking.
Ri, tol, lol, etc.
III
Quite cautiously the mill began, For neither knew the other's plan: Each cull completely in the dark, [5]
Of vot might be his neighbour's mark; Resolved his fibbing not to mind, [6]
Nor yet to pay him back in kind; So on each other kept they tout, And sparred a bit, and dodged about.
Ri, tol, lol, etc.
IV
Vith mawleys raised, Tom bent his back, [7]
As if to place a heavy thwack; Vile Jem, with neat left handed stopper, Straight threatened Tommy with a topper; 'Tis all my eye! no claret flows, [8]
No facers sound--no smas.h.i.+ng blows, Five minutes pa.s.s, yet not a hit, How can it end, pals ?--vait a bit.
Ri, tol, lol, etc.
