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The Farmer's Blunder.
A While but attend and a tale I'll relate,
I hope for the preſent ſome mirth will cre-
The ſtory is very well known in the Weſt, (are,
Where many good people ſtill laugh at the jeft
A farmer who long had indulg'd a deſire,
To ſee London town and to viſit the Squire,
When his rent became due he ſet out For that place,
As he thought that would make him appear with
The Squire was pleas'd this Tenant to view,
Why Farmer he cried you are punctual and true,
Come Butler make haſte with a bottle of wine,
And tenant walk in for you ſhall ſtay and dine.
Then leading the way to the parlour he goes,
Which was full of fine ladies and very fine beaus,
The Farmer he ſcrap'd and he pull'd off his hat,
Scratch'd his ears and could hardly tell what to
When ſaw ſuch fine folks he ſoon offer'd to go,
And beg'd he might dine with the Zervants below
For fear of ſome blunder which he might commit
But the ſquire inſiſted that down he ſhould ſit.
The dinner ſerv'd in and the company plac'd,
The farmer was help'd with each thing in high
When he drank, from the table his manners to
He roſe, and thus conſtantly gave them his love.
A wag who to miſchief was often inclin'd,
Gave a hint for removing his chair from behind.
He catches the cloth when he finds he muſt fall,
Down came the diſhes, ſauces and all.
The Beaus and the Belles were all ſtrait in a ſlut-
Their cloaths were beſprinkl'd with gravy and
O curſe you ſays one you have ſpoil'd my beſt
But the farmer lay ſilent awhile on his back.
A cuſtard by accident fell in his chops,
And on his huge belly a pudding there drops,
One roars like thunder he'll pink out his ſoul,
But the farmer role up and thus ſpoke to the
'Tis owing to you I am now in diſgrace,
You ſhould never put people out of their place,
To the Country I ſoon will be jogging amain,
And I hope I ſhall never zee London again.
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