A FARTHING AND A SIXPENCE.
A farthing and a sixpence,
And both of them were mine;
The farthing went for water,
And the sixpence went for wine.
The landlord and his daughter
Cry, both of them, “Oh woe!”
The landlord when I’m coming,
And the daughter when I go.
My shoes are all in pieces,
My boots are torn, d’ye see;
And yonder, on the hedges,
The birds are singing free.
And if there were no taverns,
I’d never wish to roam;
And no bung-hole in the barrel,
Then I couldn’t drink at home.
Count Albert von Schlippenbach.
“IN A SWAMP HE FELL—HOW SHOCKING!”