  John Pengelly be a clever man, An' he keeps a grocery store; He've got a seat on the Burryin' Board, An' a sow as turns three score; On Sunday night he holds the plate An' on Thursday shuts at four. He talks to Passon on clover crops, An' Farmer Hain on Sin; An' keeps the Parish Register, An' a dog that isn' thin; An' wears a watch-chain on his chest, An' a Moses beard on his chin. He allays takes the rhubarb prize At the Flower Show every year; An' if 'ee mind to order it He'll get 'ee Bottled Beer; (Though some as don't agree with that) Besides it's rather dear. Two different kinds of lard he sells, But awnly one of tay; An' he've a yaller oilskin coat He hopes to sell some day, But the awnly man it might have fit Was drownded out to say. His matches hang in a cabbage net, An' his onions hang in strings; An' allays at the Church Bazaar He sells the Hooplar rings; An' if us get a concert up An' there's no one else, he sings. So be you'm seekin' clever men, Come down along o' we; We'll show 'ee John Pengelly then Behind his grocery; An' when you taste his peppermints, Sure 'nuff, tis mazed you'll be. |
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