His fate was upon him, poor varmint, and
on he went, as gleeful as a bird in a bath:
He'd a garden so planted by natur'
As man can't produce in this life;
But yet the all-wise great Creaytor
Perceived that he wanted a wife.--
With his fol-de-rol, tooral-i-lay!
"You chaps might be a bit heartier with the chorus," he put in.
"A man would almost think you was afraid of your wives overhearin':"
Old Adam was laid in a slumber,
And there he lost part of his side;
And when he awoke in great wonder
He beyeld his beyeautiful bride.
_With_ my fol-de-rol, tooral--
"Why, whatever's wrong with 'ee all? You're as melancholy as a passel
of gib-cats." And with that he caught the eye of a man seated
opposite, and slewed slowly round to the door.
I tell you that even Sal was forced to smile, and the rest, as you
may suppose, rolled to and fro and laughed till they cried. But when
the landlord called for order and they hushed themselves to hear
more, the woman had put on a face that made her husband quake.
"Go ahead, Hancock!" cried one or two. "'With transport he gazed--'
Sing away, man:"
"I will not," said the tailor, very sulky.
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