Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys,
To compare with the game of high-toby;
No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys, [9]
To blue devils, blue plumbs give the go-by; [10]
And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap! [11]
Even rack punch has _some_ bitter in it,
For the mare-with-three-legs, boys, I care not a rap, [12]
'Twill be over in less than a minute!
_Chorus_.
Then hip, hurrah!
Fling care away!
Hurrah for the game of high-toby!
[1: the moon]
[2: light]
[3: highwayman]
[4: black horse]
[5: sword; pistols]
[6: high-way robbery]
[7: fleet horse; horse]
[8: pocketbook]
[9: highwayman]
[10: bullets]
[11: gallows]
[12: gallows]
THE DOUBLE CROSS [Notes]
[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]
For vere the odds are thus made even,
It plays the dickens with the steven: [2]
Besides, against all rule they're sinning,
Vere neither has no chance of vinning.
Ri, tol, lol, etc.