Man: I’ll just sit on the top of the steps till I see will some sailor buy a ballad off me that would give me my supper. They do be late going back to the ship. It’s often I saw them in Cork carried down the quay in a hand-cart.
Sergeant: Move on, I tell you. I won’t have any one lingering about the quay to-night.
Man: Well, I’ll go. It’s the poor have the hard life! Maybe yourself might like one, sergeant. Here’s a good sheet now. (Turns one over.) “Content and a pipe”—that’s not much. “The Peeler and the goat”—you wouldn’t like that. “Johnny Hart”—that’s a lovely song.
Sergeant: Move on.
Man: Ah, wait till you hear it. (Sings:)
There was a rich farmer’s daughter lived near the town of Ross;
She courted a Highland soldier, his name was Johnny Hart;
Says the mother to her daughter, “I’ll go distracted mad
If you marry that Highland soldier dressed up in Highland plaid.”
Sergeant: Stop that noise.
(Man wraps up his ballads and shuffles towards the steps)
Sergeant: Where are you going?
Man: Sure you told me to be going, and I am going.