From a broadside at The Bodleian Library, Oxford:


BATCHELOR SNIP, THE CAT CATCHER

Old Batchelor Snip he lived in a cot
And a gardener by profession.
A lover he was to his pipe and his pot
And his name I don't choose for to mention.

Lol de rol la, my story, I say,
My story is as true as the light of the day.

Old Sall Neverwed lived the very next door
In a house that was neatly thatched, sir.
Her age I am sure was nearly four score
And she kept a dollop of cats, sir.

These cats in the gardener's ground they would go.
It is as true as my story that passes.
They'd fight and they'd tear, molrow, & they'd swear,
My eye! And they'd smash all his glasses.

Now the gardener swore that their lives was no more
If in a trap he could catch them behind, sir.
He put things in the ground but the cats trod 'em down
And drove him most out of his mind, sir.

Mr. Tommy one night on the water butt sat
And he sat there a while with content, sir,
Till out came Marm Tib and a molrow she give
And down in the garden they went, sir.

Then strait down the garden they each took their way.
Like two lovers they walked side by side, sir,
Till a trap caught by their tails then quite taught.
Molrow and blue murder they cried, sir.

Now they lugg'd and they tugg'd till off come their tails.
They came off very close to their rump, sir.
You'd have laughed to have seen this king and queen
How they wriggled and waggled their stump, sir.

Now you rambling cats, beware of these traps
Or you will meet with a shocking disaster,
For like Tibby and Tom you'll be hopping along
With no tail for to cover your stern, sir.