Next came the sexton;
She rose on an end and she gave him a fling;
‘You dirty dog, you’ll do no such a thing,
With your rolly-pooly, gammon and spinnage,’
Off ran the sexton.
“She stalked to her home and she made a great din,
Heigh-ho, says Thimble;
He poked out his head and he said with a grin,
‘You’re dead, my dear duck, and I can’t let you in,
With your rolly-pooly, gammon and spinnage,’