JACK'S LISTED I' THE NINETY·ITE!

TEUN- "Doran's Ass," or "Finnigan's Wake."

"OH, what's the metter wi' ye, Meg Dawson?
Oh what's the metter wi' ye the day?
Ye luck as if ye war gan demented,
Yor eyes thor stairin just that way!"
"The metter wi' me,-if ye want te knaw then,
Heh ye heard the news frae Mary White?
She says wor Jack for a sowljor's listed,
The heed-strang feul's i' the Ninety-Ite,

"Wiv a lot 0' lads that's se lang been famed
For nowt that's gud, nor they nivor will;
Industrious cheps that wad nivvor work
If they just cud raise a penny gill.
He'll heh teun the shillin te sarve the queen,
Wi' ne idea 0' gannin te fight;
If he thowt thor wes ony chance 0' war,
He wad bid gud-bye te the Ninety-Ite.

"He nivvor liked wark, an' since he wes britch'd
He hessent cared hoo he got his meat;
Wiv his elbows oot he wad trail the streets,
An' the Peelers mark'd him on thor beat.
He wad argey owt for a pint 0' beer,
An' i' dominoes he teuk delite
l' playin a blank tiv a five or six,
They'll not stand that i' the Ninety-Ite.

"On Seturday neets what a swell he was,
Wi' velvet cap an' black curdyroys;
He wes famous for myekin ruffs keep still,
Tho the forst his-sel te myek a noise;
He knew if he married he cuddent keep
A wife,so he teuk one oot 0' spite,
Ay, an' he myed her muther an' her keep him,
A nice young chep for the Ninety-Ite,

"Aw's sartin we'll nivor can buy him off,
For hoo can poor foaks like us did?
What a pity a gud-like fyece an' heed
Like his, shud carry ne brains wid;
Blud's thicker then wetter-that's true eneuff
He's still war awn, tho a cawshun quite,
But bad as he is, they may de him gud,
An' myek him a man i' the Ninety-Ite."

Luv myed Jimmy Jollyfyece walk three miles te se his
sweetheart the barmaid, an' he fund it get that strang
that he cuddent find his way hyem agyen; but paid
five shillins an' costs for the use ov a bed in the New
Pollis Stayshun.

Source: Joe Wilson,(author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890