“I don’t know that we have many drinking songs,” said the Doctor; “I suppose it takes wine, or spirits at any rate, to make a man write such stuff as ‘the glasses sparkle,’ or ‘a bumper of Burgundy.’ The bucolic muse only gets smallish beer. But we must see what we can do for you.” So the Doctor beckoned to Peter, and sent him off to the lower tables with a pot of beer, the speedy result of which mission was the following song:—
TOVEY’S TAP.—Air, “Derry down.”
Owld Tovey once brewed a barrel o’ beer,
For he wur a man as lovèd good cheer,
And zays he, “I’ll jest ax a veaw o’ my vriends
To come and try how the likker spends.”[36]
Derry down, &c.
There’s long Tom Ockle, he shall be one,
And little Jack Smith, who’s as round as a tun,
And owld Gaarge Mabbutt, who’s allus a-dry,