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User Name Thread Name Subject Posted
GUEST, Sminky Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841) (36) RE: Lyr Add: Gaskel's Comic Song Book (1841) 04 Jun 10


MORGAN RATTLER

Oh, the lasses of London are sad wicked jades,
All manner o' tricks, by gosh, they be up to em;
And for cheating poor lads like o I is their trades;
And t'would puzzle the old one to put a good stop to em.
My Kate, in the country, is different quite,
When I was at home, why, I was her prattler,
And I have loved her sincerely from morning to night;
And none was so happy as Morgan Rattler.

I comed up to Lunnun, and the very first day,
I met a fine lady, who ax'd me to walk wi' her;
And she said, she was frightful o fainting away,
I'll be dashed, if I wasn't afeard for to talk wi' her.
She begg'd instantly that a coach I would call,
For nothing but home directly could settle her;
And then so politely pull'd me in all in all;
Oh! in what a sad pucker was Morgan Rattler.

The coach then set off, and dash'd through thick and thin,
The lady got better, and ax'd me to sup wi her;
Thinks I, oh dear, dear, she's for snaring me in,
No matter what haps, I'll try and be up wi her.
Says I, "Madam sly, I sees what you're up to,
I'se awake to your tricks, though you're a sweet tattler;
But all your fine fits and your faintings wont do,
You've got the wrong person, in Morgan Rattler.

When she found me determin'd, she flew in a rage,
Left the coach, and then calld me a brute and a bore, too, sirs.
And said that I ought to be shut in a cage,
For using a lady so vile - and much more too, sirs;
The coachman then civilly ask'd for his fare,
(By this time, quite clean out of sight was the tattler,)
I felt in my pockets - 'tis true, I declare,
She'd stole all the money of Morgan Rattler.

The coachman then held the door fast in his hand,
To let me go out he was not at all willing, sirs,
And said he was sure that the trick it was plann'd,
And 'twould serve one just right if I got a good milling, sirs.
I jump'd in a rage from the coach to the street,
Says I to him, "Young man, I beant a great battler,
But I think I can gi' you a thrashing complete,
As sure as my name it is Morgan Rattler.

I strip't to be at'n, and too it we gaes,
And a few minutes finish'd his bu'ness so neatly, sirs;
Meantime somme domm'd thief run away with my claes,
And poor I, was every way cheated completely, sirs.
I'se had quite enough of this vile Lunnun town,
I'll go back home to my Kate, and I'll marry and settle her,
And to feyther, and mother, and all when I'ze down,
I'll tell all the misfortunes o Morgan Rattler.


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