"What's these here games, my merry men?"
And then, "Why, blame my eyes!
Here's one as chaws, and one as snuffs,
And t' other of the three
Is smoking like a chimbley-pot—
They've found out Tobac-kee!"
So if ever you should hear
Of Raleigh, and them lies
About his sarvant and his pipe
And him as "Fire!" cries,