Now Sunday is come
And the Shoes are not done
Nell called Jobson a very great Sinner
By his fine frisking Airs
The folks got no Prayers
And poor Nell and he got no Dinner.
But the Parson good man
It was always his plan
To have on a sunday good cheer
Both roast Beef and pudding
With every thing good in
Besides some October strong Beer.
Then out Jobson set
In a deuce of a pet
For he liked not to fast in the least
And the Parson and he
On this point did agree
They were far better pleas'd at a feast.
To the Parson's he goes
For Jobson's good Nose
Was led by the savory smell
He caught up the roast
Tho 'tis nothing to boast
And carried it safe home to Nell.
When the Parson's old Cook
For the Meat came to look
She vow'd 'twas a shocking disaster
And thought this bad news
Would vex more than the Shoes
So in tears ran to tell her old Master.