And his top coat torn asunder;
His hat was knocked right o’er his head,
His corns and his bunions stampt on,
And down he went more live than dead,
To where he came from—Northampton!
The Wail of a Disturbed Soul.
The ’prentice boy to the street has gone,
Among his chums you’ll find him;
And he has ta’en his mel-o-de-on,