THE OLD PACK PEDDLER


I am a pack peddler; I carry a pack.
I carry such things as the ladies do lack,
Needles and pins and cinnamon strong,
And a roll of old ginger bread nine inches long.

I started up trade in the city Yorkshire; [sic
I've been a pack peddler for many a year;
Some said I did right, others said I did wrong,
For selling old ginger bread nine inches long.

I ran a big trade in the city close by,
And many a damsel came in for to buy,
"Two pounds of Java, right straight from Hong Kong,
And a roll of old ginger bread nine inches long."

Now at last I took sick, oh some said 'twas the gout.
I swelled from my arse hole clear up to my snout.
The doctor examined, and said I did wrong,
For selling old ginger bread nine inches long.

Now the doctor declared that he would use me fair
He bid me sit down in a big easy chair.
With a sharp lance in one hand, the other my dong dong [sic
He clipped off old gingerbread nine inches long.

I will have him imbonded [sic]; I'll put him in glass,
To keep for the ladies to stick up their arse.
I'll sit by my fireside and sing my sad song,
"Adieu to old ginger bread nine inches long."

This version in Horace P. Beck, Jr., 1952 U. Penn. dissertation, "Down-East Ballads and Songs". Collected in Kingman, Maine, around 1950, from a man who superintended a lumber company (presumably an ex-logger).


"Imbonded" presumably means "embalmed".

Text and reference provided by Jonathan Lighter.