But she gives them for answer, “Sit still you pist fool!”
For all their repining, their twisting and twining,
She forward proceeds till she’s mown off the hair;
When finish’d, cries, “There Sir;” then straight from the chair, Sir,
They’ll jump, crying, “Daresay you’ve scrap’d the bone bare!”
SWALWELL HOPPING.
By J.S. of Gateshead.
Tune—“Paddy’s Wedding.”
Lads! myek a ring,