And sell him to Hary Kemp.
Now Sam and Tom they got a shere
Tha dow not see no Feer,
Tha will call too the Public-house,
An git a Galling of Beer.
Sam says to Tom here’s luck my lad,
We will drink hall we can;
And then wele pull down Spalding sett
To loke for another Swan.
There’s young Jim Hall he has a fine gun