505

THE GHOST OF A SCRAG OF MUTTON;

Written by Mr. C. DIBDIN, Jun. composed by Mr. REEVE, and sung by Mr. SMITH, with unbounded Applause, at the Aquatic Theatre, Sadler's Wells.

A SCHOLAR one time, tho' I can't tell you when,
Nor can I tell where too, just now;
And he learnt—why I can't tell you what: aye, and then
He liv'd—O, I can't tell you how:
He lodg'd by an inn, in the street I'm not right,
And the sign it don't matter a button;
But this inn it was haunted, at twelve ev'ry night,
By the Ghost of a grim Scrag of Mutton!
O, la, fal de ral, &c.

The landlord was in a most terrible fright,
He'd no peace by night nor by day;
So he sent for this mirror of learning so bright,
To see if the ghost he could lay.
Says the scholar, "I can, for at magic I dash,
Nor e'en for Old Nick care a button;
So don't be in a stew, for I'll settle the hash
Of this Ghost of a grim Scrag of Mutton."

He made a great fire, and he put on the pot,
Put in turnips, thyme, parsley, and leeks;
The clock it struck twelve as the water grew hot,
And the casement upon its hinge creaked.
The moment was awful—a terrible job!
When, with a long neck like a glutton,
And a grin monstrous ghastly, popp'd in the queer nob
Of the Ghost of a grim Scrag of Mutton.
O, la, fal de ral, &c.

Says the scholar, "You're welcome, some mutton I want
For my broth, 'ere the pot it boils faster,
So pr'ythee come in;" said the mutton, "I shan't,
For I'm certainly meat for your master."
Then the scholar he caught up a fork in great wrath,
Stuck it under his rib like a glutton,
Sous'd him into the boiler, and finished his broth
With the Ghost of the grim Scrag of Mutton.

The story thus finish'd, the moral shan't lag:—
The landlord who'd such little heart,
Not the only one he who's been scar'd by a scrag,
For a scrag's but a small Bony-part.
So the Emperor Scrag in fear Europe has got,
Tho' John Bull don't mind him a button;
For Johnny's the scholar who'll send him to pot,
Like the Ghost of the grim Scrag of Mutton.
O, la, fal de ral, &c.

Published, 23d January, 1809,
BY LAURIE AND WHITTLE,
NO. 53, FLEET STREET,
LONDON.