Then one by one they all get on,
Wet, fatigued and weary;
The steam does blow, old Ned doth go,
And we come back so cheery.
All satisfied we their short ride—
But sorry for the rain—
Each thenkt ther stars they’re nowt no war,
An’ we’ve got home again.
Whene’er we roam away from home,
No matter where or when,
In storm or shower, if in wer power,
To home—sweet home, return!
What we had seen—where we had been—
Each to our friend wor telling:
The day being spent, we homeward went
To each respective dwelling.
Dame Europe’s Lodging House.
Dame Europa kept a Lodging House,
And she was fond of brass;
She took in public lodgers,
Of every rank and class.
She’d French and Germans, Dutch and Swiss,
And other nations too;
So poor old Mrs. Europe
Had plenty work to do.
I cannot just now name her beds,
Her number being so large;
But five she kept for deputies,
Which she had in her charge.
So in this famous Lodging house,
John Bull he stood A ONE,
On whom she always kept an eye,
To see things rightly done.
And Master Louis was her next,
And second, there’s no doubt,
For when a little row took place,
He always backed John out.