/ · John S. Farmer’s Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes
            The Thieves’ Chaunt
               
            
            The Thieves’ Chaunt
               1836
            
            
By W. H. SMITH in The Individual.
            
            I
            
            There is a nook in the boozing ken, 
1 public house
              Where many a mug I fog, 
2 pipe; smoke
            And the smoke curls gently, while cousin Ben
            Keeps filling the pots again and again,
              If the coves have stump’d their hog. 
3 paid a shilling
            
            
            II
            
            The liquors around are diamond bright,
              And the diddle is best of all;  
4 gin
            But I never in liquors took delight,
            For liquors I think is all a bite, 
5 humbug
              So for heavy wet I call.  
6 porter
            
            
            III
            
            The heavy wet in a pewter quart,
              As brown as a badger’s hue,
            More than Bristol milk or gin, 
7 sherry
            Brandy or rum, I tipple in,
              With my darling blowen, Sue. 
8 mistress
            
            
            IV
            
            Oh! grunting peck in its eating  
9 pork
            Is a richly soft and savoury thing;
            A Norfolk capon is jolly grub 
10 red-herring
            When you wash it down with strength of bub: 
11 lots of beer
            But dearer to me Sue’s kisses far,
            Than grunting peck or other grub are,
            And I never funks the lambskin men, 
12 judges
            When I sits with her in the boozing ken.
            
            
            V
            
            Her duds are bob—she’s a kinchin crack, 
13 clothes; neat; fine young woman
            And I hopes as how she’ll never back;
            For she never lushes dog’s-soup or lap, 
14 drinks water or tea
            But she loves my cousin the bluffer’s tap. 
15 inn-keeper
            She’s wide-awake, and her prating cheat, [16 ]
            For humming a cove was never beat;  
17 fooling a man
            But because she lately nimm’d some tin, 
18 stole; money
            They have sent her to lodge at the King’s Head Inn. 
19 Newgate; Notes
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
            
               		Taken from
               		Musa Pedestris,
               		Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes
               		[1536―1896], collected and annotated by John S. Farmer.
               	      
            
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