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THE SHIELD, FISHBALL, AND SEWING-MACHINB.
Each even she'd come at six o'clock,
The Peeler for her would wait the while;
The wagons and stages at once he'd stop,
And hand her across with a wink and a smile.
But he had a rival, five feet in his boots,
A sort of a cook down at Meschutt's;
A nice young man of limited means—
He was chief-engineer of the pork and beans!
Big thing on the pork and beam
My song, etc.
Says the Peeler, " I'll cut out this ' Fishball" To " Sewing-Machine" he 8'howed the cash; Upon her each night he used to call,
Which quickly settled poor Cooky's hash. One night he called, the maid to see, And found her squat on the Peeler's knee; And, what with affright there made him stand, She was playing away with his club in her hand. Big thing on the club.
My song, etc
Cried he, " For to live is now no use 1"—
He crept into the coffee-can through the spout; But, without ever cooking poor Cooky's goose,
He was only half boiled when the fire went out But, as he was resolved to die, He swallowed the shell of an oyster-pie, Then rammed it down with a loaf of bread— It stuck in his throat, and choked him dead! Big thing on the Cooky.
My song, etc.
"When "Sewing-Machine" the »iews did hear, For a pound of arsenic she went out;
She drank it off in a quart of beer,
And threw up till she turned right inside out I
When the Peeler heard of these sad mishaps,
He swallowed a pound of Dercussion-caps; 3*