Arthur McBride and the Sergeant
I once had a brother called Arthur McBride
And he and I wandered adown the seaside;
Our pleasure and pastime a-watchin' the tide,
And the weather was pleasant & charmin'.
So gaily and gallant we went on a tramp,
We met Sergeant Napier & Corp'ral Demant,
'And the neat little drummer that roused all the camp
And beat row-de-dow-dow in the mornin'.
"Good morning, young fellows," the sergeant did cry
"The same to you, sergeant," we made a reply.
Was nothing more spoken, we made to pass by
It was all on a Christmas Day mornin'.
"Come, come, my fine fellows, I pray you enlist
Ten guineas in gold I will slap in your fist
And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust
For to drink the king's health in the morning
"Oh no, Mister Sergeant, we are not for sale
We make no such bargain, your bribe won't avail.
We're fond of our country, & care not to sail
Tho' your offers look pleasant & charmin'."
"Ha, if you insult me without other words
I swear by the devil we'll draw out our swords
And thrust thro' your bodies as strength us affords
And leave you to die without warnin'."
We beat the bold drummer as flat as his shoe
We made a football of his row-de-dow-do;
And the sergeant and corporal we knocked down the two
O, we were the boys in that mornin'.
The two little weapons that hung at their side
As we trotted away, we threw into the tide,
"And the devil be with you," said Arthur McBride
"For delayin' our walk in the mornin."
Note: Same story; different words. From Singing Englishmen, A.L.