Frae the Gut to the Point a' the time driving slow,
The bullies kept blairing, 'The Empty Kyte, ho!'
But their blairing was vain, for nae Empty Kyte there,
Tho' they blair'd till their kytes were byeth empty & sair.
Now au'd Slavers, the Skipper, harangu'd a' his men,
Twee mun gan to Newcassel to ax the reet nyem;
But thinking the young one to blame in the matter,
Pee Dee and his Marrow was pack'd 'cross the watter.
Up Shields Road as they trudg'd, wi' their half worn out soals,
Oft b——r—g the Empty Kyte, Skipper, and coals,
At the sign of the Coach they byeth call'd, it befel,
To moan their hard fates, and to swattle some yell.
Here a buck at a surloin hard eating was seen,
And he said that the air myed his appetite keen;—
'Appetite!' cried the bullies, like pole-cats they star'd,
Wide gaping wi' wonder, when loud Cuddy blair'd,
'The Appetite! Geordy, smash! nobbet hear that,
The b——r—g outlandish, cull nyem we forgat;
Bless the Dandy! for had he not tell'd us the nyem,
We might trudg'd to Newcassel byeth weary and lyem.'
Now to Shields back they scamp, & straight frae the keel
Roar'd 'The Appetite, ho!' 'neugh to freighten the deil;
Now they seun fund the ship, cast their coals in a swet,
Still praising the Dandy that day they had met.
Now into the huddock, weel tir'd, they a' gat,
And of Appetite, Empty Kyte, lang they did chat;
When the Skipper fund out, mair wise than a king,
If not the same nyem, they were much the same thing.
MY LORD 'SIZE.
The Jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief,
Whose looks seem'd a passport for Botany Bay;
The lawyers, some with and some wanting a brief,
Around the green table were seated so gay:
Grave jurors and witnesses, waiting a call:
Attornies and clients, more angry than wise,
With strangers and town's-people, throng'd the Guild-hall,
All waiting gaping to see my Lord 'Size.