'Ear Tis
Not sure that it's John Foreman's; I found it as a separate printed sheet in a second hand copy of Charles Chilton's 'Victorian Folk Songs'.
Jim Carroll

THE RATCATCHER'S DAUGHTER
NOT long ago, in Vestministier,
There liv'ed a Ratcatcher's daughter,
She did'nt quite live in Vestministier,
But t' other side of the vater.
Her father caught rats, and she sold sprats,
All round and about that qua-rter,
And the gentlefolks all did lift there hats
To the ratcatcher's pretty little daughter.
Doodle dee, doodle dum, ri, da, doo, da, di do.

She wore no hat upon her head,
No cap nor dandy bonnet:
And her hair hung gracefully down her back,
Like a bunch of carrots upon it.
Now vhen she cried 'Sprats' in Vestministier,
She 'ad such a loud sweet woice, sir,
You could hear her all down Parliament Street,
As far as Charming-Cross, sir.
Doodle dee, &c.

Now rich and poor from far and near,
In matrimony sought her;
But to friends and foes she turn'd up her nose,
Did the ratcatcher's pretty little daughter.
For there was a man sold lilly-vhite sand,
In Cupid's net had caught her;
And right over head and ears in love
Pell the ratcatcher's beau-tiful daughter.
Doodle dee, Ac.

Now lilly vhite sand so ran in her head,
As she vent down to Strand, oh!
Instead of crying "do you vant any sprats ?"
She cried "D' ye vant any lilly-vhite sand, oh ?"
The people vere all amaz'd and thought she was craz'd
As she vent down the Strand oh!
To hear the gal vith sprats on her head,
Crying "D' ye vant any lilly-vhite sand, oh?"
Doodle dee, &c.

Now ratcatcher's daughter so ran in his head,
He could'nt tell vhat he was arter,
For instead of crying "D' ye vant any sand ?"
He cried "D' ye vant any ratcatcher's daughter?"
His donkey cock'd his ears and laughed,
And could'nt think what his master was arter,
When he heard a man that sold lilly-vhite sand,
Cry "D' ye vant any ratcatcher's daughter ?"
Doodle dee, &c.

Now they had agreed to marri-ed be
Upon last Easter Monday ;
But the ratcatcher's daughter had a dream
That she vould'nt be alive on the Sunday.
She vent vunce more for to buy some sprats,
And she tumbled into the vater;
Then over the head all kivered up with mud,
Was the ratcatcher's pretty little daughter.

[SPOKEN.]—And, considering the state of the Thames at this here present moment, vhat must she have swallowed!
ugh! ugh!        
Doodle dee, &c.

Vhen lilly-vhite sand did hear the news,
His eyes ran down vith vater;
Says he" In' love I've constant prov'd,
Blow me if I'll live long arter."
So he cut his throat vith a pane of glass,
And stabb'd his donkey arter :
So here vas an end of lilly-vhite sand,
Donkey, and the ratcatcher's daughter.
Doodle dee, &c.

The neighbours all, both great and small,
Did flock unto the berre-in,
And vept that a gal who'd cried out 'sprats'
Should be dead as any herre-in.
The Corioner's Inquest on her sat,
At the sign of 'Jack in the Vater,'
To find what made life's sand run out
Of the pretty little ratcatcher's daughter.
Doodle dee, Ac.

The werdick was that too much vet
This poor young woman died on;
For she made a, hole in the Riviere Thames,
Vot the penny steamers ride on ?
'Twas a haccident, they all agreed,
And nuffin like self-slaughter;
So not guiltee, of fell-in-the-sea,
They brought in the ratcatcher's daughter.

[SPOKEN.]—Vell, ladies an' gen'lemen—arter the two bodies was resusticated, they burri-ed them both in one seminary—and the epigram vich they writ on the tomb¬stone was:—
Doodle dee, Ac.

Song 252.