MOTT STREET, 449
Copyright, 1882, by E. H. Harding.
You see that I'm a ladies man,
The girls get stuck on my clothes,
It costs ten thousand dollars a year,
To color up my nose;
Some people think that I'm Vanderbilt,
And on Fifth Avenue dwell,
The ladies buy the photograph
Of Paddy, the dandy swell.
Spoken-Meself and lady attended the 431st annual reception
of the Dog-Catcher's Association and it was four o'clock in the
morning when we parted. Just as we was saying good-bye, she
threw her arms around me and said:
Oh, you beauty, oh, you dear,
Take me out somewhere and buy me some beer,
While you have money, I treat you fine,
I live on Mott Street, Four Forty-nine.
I move in the best society
That's in the County jail,
French brandy and champagne, too,
I guzzle by the pail.
Among the Wall Street "Bulls and Bears"
My stocks and bonds I sell,
I draw checks on a sand bank.
For I am, boys, the dandy swell.
Spoken-Notwithstanding I've been married seven times in
the last three years I'm willing to get slaughtered again. The
last one I courted was a red-headed widow of 64 Summers, and
heaven knows, how many Winters. She owns three lots in a
cemetery, and if I married her I'd have been sure of one of them.
One day I got in trouble with her brother. He took me on the
roof and dropped me off. I picked myself up and began taking
the mud off my clothes when she stuck her head out of the door