And often forgot to come back,
Leaving Master to shut up the shop, sir.
Her beauty his wits did bereave—
Determined to be quite the crack O,
He lounged at the Adam and Eve,
And call’d for his gin and tobacco.
Rum ti, &c.
And now—for the truth must be told,
Though none of a ’prentice should speak ill—
He stole from the till all the gold,