She. We’ll deal in Oils, sperm, train and neat,
He. And I’ll make stockings for children’s feet,
She. We will sell hot muffins and home baked bread,
He. Pins and needles, cotton and thread.
She. We’ll grind old razors, scissors and knives,
He. And keep lodgings for single men and their wives,
She. We’ll deal in lobsters, shrimps and sprats,
He. And I’ll sell meat for the ladies’ cats.
She. We’ll deal in fish, fresh, boiled, and fried,
He. And let out donkeys a penny a ride,
She. I will the ladies fortune tell,
He. And I’ll cry, Old umbrellas to sell,
She. We will take in the blooming ladies bright,
He. And sleep in the garret at threepence a night,
She. I’ll sing, Come buy my Crockery ware,
He. And I’ll go dressing the ladies hair.
She. We’ll sell ripe Cherries, pea soup and milk,
He. Oranges, lemons and pickled wilks,
She. Wooden rolling-pins at the Royal Exchange,
He. And if we can’t get on we may think it strange,
(The chorus make up the last four lines of this verse.)
THE CRIES OF LONDON.
Oh! what fun is to be seen in town every day,
There is something to pass dull care away,
Some sort of a cry you are sure for to meet,
In winter and summer as the time of year flies,
You will find in London a melody of cries.[16]
Chorus.
It’s fun for to hear, as you walk up and down,
The fashionable cries of great London town.
A strong deal table to be sold to night,
Penny a lot oysters, come run, fetch a light,
Here’s good eating apples, a penny the lot,
Now who’ll buy a cap or a bonnet box;
Clothes pegs, or lines, buy a clothes prop,
Here’s fine Cauliflowers, who’ll buy a Mop?