/ · John S. Farmer’s Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes
            The Double Cross
               
            
            The Double Cross
               1834
            
            
By W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, in Rookwood.
            
            I
            
            Though all of us have heard of crost fights,
            And certain gains, by certain lost fights;
            I rather fancies that its news,
            How in a mill, both men should lose; 
1 fight
            For vere the odds are thus made even,
            It plays the dickens with the steven: 
2 money
            Besides, against all rule they’re sinning,
            Vere neither has no chance of vinning.
              Ri, tol, lol, etc.
            
            
            II
            
            Two milling coves, each vide awake,
            Vere backed to fight for heavy stake;
            But in the mean time, so it vos,
            Both kids agreed to play a cross;
            Bold came each buffer to the scratch, 
3 man
            To make it look a tightish match;
            They peeled in style, and bets were making, 
4 stripped
            ’Tvos six to four, but few were taking.
                             Ri, tol, lol, etc.
            
            
            III
            
            
            Quite cautiously the mill began,
            For neither knew the other’s plan:
            Each cull completely in the dark, 
5 fellow
            Of vot might be his neighbour’s mark;
            Resolved his fibbing not to mind, 
6 Notes
            Nor yet to pay him back in kind;
            So on each other kept they tout,
            And sparred a bit, and dodged about.
                          Ri, tol, lol, etc.
            
            
            
            IV
            
            
            Vith mawleys raised, Tom bent his back, 
7 hands
            As if to place a heavy thwack;
            Vile Jem, with neat left handed stopper,
            Straight threatened Tommy with a topper;
            ’Tis all my eye! no claret flows, 
8 blood
            No facers sound—no smashing blows,
            Five minutes pass, yet not a hit,
            How can it end, pals ?—vait a bit.
                                   Ri, tol, lol, etc.
            
            
            V
            
            Each cove vos teared with double duty,
            To please his backers, yet play booty, 
9 deceive them
            Ven, luckily for Jem, a teller
            Vos planted right upon his smeller 
10 nose
            Down dropped he, stunned; ven time was called
            Seconds in vain the seconds bawled;
            The mill is o’er, the crosser crost,
            The losers von, the vinners lost.
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
               Notes
               See note to “Nix my Doll, Pals, etc.,” ante.
                  
               
               
             
            
            
               		Taken from
               		Musa Pedestris,
               		Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes
               		[1536―1896], collected and annotated by John S. Farmer.
               	      
            
previous * 
nextNearby