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Broadside ballads entitled 'The Muckle Meal Pock' and 'Irish Molly, O'.
MUCKLE MEAL POCK.
I am a turdy beggar loon, weel kent the country through,
You may think there is meal i'nt, but that you are far wrang
And whiles a bit tobacco, if I want a chew or smoke,
But you maun keep your thumb upon't, it's a secret I'm
gaun to tell,
Away down in the bottom o't, I keep a wee bit still,
I tak' the bits o' errands when I danner to the toun,
I tak' eggs by the dozen, to the clachan or the toun,
I niffer them for pocks o' tea, and sugar, white and brown,
And whiles as many buns and baps as a baker's shop could
As lang as the loads pay me weel, I carna a prean
Be it bambes ceps. 'lates graps, or lasses crinolines,
what do you think a farmer said ? of course it was in joke,
Bring me up a rake 'o' coals in your muckle meal pock.
But you'll hear how I fared with my grasping and my greed,
When I cam' to the ford where you cross the stapping stances
I have laid away my meal pock, ance dear to my heart,
Probable period of publication:
1840-1850 shelfmark: L.C.Fol.70(34a)