THE SIX OF SPADES. 191 



He shaved his sen close, and he soaped his sen clean, 

 Just lite some gret Dook, when he goes to the Queen ; 

 With some nice mutton fat then he polished 'is J ed, 

 And Sairey Jane Jones you are mine, ma'am, he said. 

 Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



They walked on its banks, and they talked 'mong its trees, 

 Till the stars they lit hup like so many fu-zees ; 

 But when Sammel says, Sairey luv, will you be mine ? 

 No, says she, Butcher Cox, hi must hask to decline. 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



Hi'rn fond on yer, Cox, but did long since hengage 



My 'art to a butler, I'd know'd from a page. 



Next month we shall wed ah ! them words 'ow they bust 



'im, 

 And that butler, oh rni, 'ow 'e innudly cust 'im ! 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



But he swallered 'is roth, and presarved 'is demeener, 

 And 'e looked like a lamb, though 'e felt a ihener 

 And says 'e, Then next Sunday night I will bring 'ere 

 A nicst wedding present a luv sowveneer. 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



'E went 'ome wite with ate, and to comfit 'is 'art 

 'E drank of neat gin somethink under a q'art ; 

 And that night did resolve that next Sunday e'd make 

 A hend of Miss Jones in the wood by the lake. 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



