KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES.

As Cole himself, in all his pride
Of fiddle, pipe, and fife.
At home we lived so happily,
Quite free from grief and pain,
Till, one fine day, we found ourselves
Invaded by the Dane.
But mind your eye, my wary Dane,
A rod in pickle soaks for you;
With lots of fleas your ears to pain,
We’ll send you home again.

As going through the woods one day,
I hook’d it in disguise
(For he who fights and runs away,
You know, is reckon’d wise),
I of this situation heard,
So came, the place to seek—
Agreed to terms—and here I am,
At thirteen bob a-week.

But mind your eye, &c.

(which means, of course, G—— up!)

 

My upper G
Would be improved by just the slightest sup—

Of moisture. Shop! just mind yourself now, please,
While I step over to the Cheshire Cheese