The following anonymous passage is from a piece called "The Yorkshire Alehouse," in the "New-York Literaty Gazette and American Athenaeum" (Aug. 12, 1826), p. 269. The landlord speaks to a newcomer:

"Will you sit in the parlour by yourself, and look at my paintings till dinner is ready? There is the portrait of Squire Musgrave's brown horse Cubal, that won the Irish and English plate, and which the old ballad says was begotten by Belzebub, and could speak like a Christian. I remember some words of the song myself, sir. (Sings.)

" And when that they came to the middle of the course,
Cubal to hias rider began to discourse;
Saying, 'Come, pretty rider, pray tell unto me,
How far in the distance Miss Sportly may be.'
The rider look'd back, and replied with a smile,
'I think she's about the space of half a mile.'
'So — stick to your saddle, my boy, never fear;
You'll never be beat by the gallant grey mare.'

"So you see, sir, the song bears the story out. I gave long Saunders, the ballad pedlar, a good supper, and a night's quarters, for a copy of it to hang up by the picture. And here is a painting of the ram of Derby — it has been celebrated in song too, sir. I have a club of the best wits of the district, who meet here, and sing the merry song of the Ram, sir. I can touch a verse or two of it myself, sir, to oblige a north-country gentleman — you are all pipers and ballad-makers, I am told: it must be a merry country - but cruel cold, sir. Shall I give you a slice of the Ram, sir, as the president of the witty club says. (Sings.)

" As I went into Derby,
Upon a market day,
I saw the finest ram, sir,
Was ever fed on hay.
This ram was fat behind, sir;
This ram was fat before;
This ram was a hundred yards round,
And I'm sure it was no more.

"The horns which grew on this ram, sir,
Were fifty cubits high;
And the eagles made their nests there,
I heard the young ones cry.
The butcher who kill'd this ram, sir,
Was drowned in the blood;
The boy who held the bowl, sir,
Was swept away in the flood.

"...So I will cease, sir. ...A dry road makes a drouthy passenger, that's my motto, so look in...."


(Cubal, Skewball, Cue-ball, what's the difference?)