Od smash! says aw, aw've often heard
About this mighty Deil, man,—
Shew me the place where he appear'd,
For aw'd like to see him weel, man?
Then Dick he tuik me to the place,
Where he had seen his awful fyece—
And still he swore it was the case,
That he had seen the Deil, man.
Alang wi' Dick aw hitch'd about
To see this mighty Deil, man,
When just with that Dick gav a shout—
Luik there! thou'll see him weel, man;
But when of him aw'd got a view,
Aw laugh'd till aw was black and blue,
For it was nought but a great black cow
That Dick tuik for the Deil, man.
J. N.
SANDGATE PANT;
Or, JANE JEMIESON'S GHOST.
BY R. EMERY.
Tune—"I'd be a Butterfly."
The bell of St. Ann's toll'd two in the morning,
As brave Skipper Johnson was gawn to the keel—
From the juice of the barley his poor brain was burning—
In search of relief he through Sandgate did reel;
The city was hush, save the keel-bullies' snoring—
The moon faintly gleam'd through the sable-clad sky—
When lo! a poor female her hard fate deploring,
Appear'd near the pant, and thus loudly did cry:—
Ripe Chenee oranges, four for a penny!
Cherry ripe cornberries—taste them and try!
O listen, ye hero of Sandgate and Stella,
Jin Jemieson kens that yor courage is trig,
Go tell Billy Elli to meet me, brave fellow—
Aw'll wait yor return on Newcassel Tyne Brig!—
Oh, marcy! cried Johnson, yor looks gar me shiver!
Maw canny lass, Jin, let me fetch him next tide;
The spectre then frown'd—and he vanish'd for ever,
While Sandgate did ring as she vengefully cried—
Fine Chenee oranges, four for a penny!
Cherry ripe cornberries—taste them and try!