I
Joe sold his sand, and cly'd his cole, sir, [11]
While Bess got a basket of rags,
Then up to St. Giles's they roll'd, sir,
To every bunter Bess brags:
Then into a booze-ken they pike it, [12]
Where Bess was admitted we hear;
For none of the coves dare but like it,
As Joey, her kiddy, was there.