GOODY BLAKE, AND HARRY GILL, A TRUE STORY.
Oh! whats the matter? whats the matter?
What ist that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still.
Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,
Good duf?e grey, and ?annel ?ne;
He has a blanket on his back,
And coats enough to smother nine.
In March, December, and in July,
"Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
At night, at morning, and at noon,
Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Young Harry was a lusty drover,
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