William Harrison Ainsworth

Jerry Juniper’s Chant

    In a box1 of the stone jug2 I was born,  
    Of a hempen widow3 the kid forlorn.
                                Fake away,
    And my father, as I’ve heard say,
                                Fake away.
    Was a merchant of capers4 gay,
    Who cut his last fling with great applause,
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away5.

    Who cut his last fling with great applause,6
    To the tune of a “hearty choke with caper sauce.”
                                Fake away.
    The knucks in quod7  did my schoolmen play,
                                Fake away,
    And put me up to the time of day;
    Until at last there was none so knowing,
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    Until at last there was none so knowing,
    No such sneaksman8 or buzgloak9 going.
                                Fake away.
    Fogles10 and fawnies11  soon went their way,
                                Fake away,
    To the spout12  with the sneezers13 in grand array.
    No dummy hunter14 had forks15 so fly;
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    No dummy hunter had forks so fly,
    No knuckler16 so deftly could fake a cly17,
                                Fake away.
    No slour’d hoxter18 my snipes19 could stay,
                                Fake away.
    None knap a reader20 like me in the lay.
    Soon then I mounted in swell-street high.
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    Soon then I mounted in swell-street high,
    And sported my flashiest toggery21,
                                Fake away.
    Firmly resolved I would make my hay,
                                Fake away,
    While Mercury’s star shed a single ray;
    And ne’er was there seen such a dashing prig22,
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    And ne’er was there seen such a dashing prig,
    With my strummel faked in the newest twig23.
                                Fake away.
    With my fawnied famms24, and my onions gay25,
                                Fake away;
    My thimble of ridge26, and my driz kemesa27;
    All my togs were so niblike28 and splash,
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    All my togs were so niblike and splash,
    Readily the queer screens I then could smash29;
                                Fake away.
    But my nuttiest blowen30, one fine day,
                                Fake away,
    To the beaks31 did her fancy man betray,
    And thus was I bowled out at last32
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    And thus was I bowled out at last,
    And into the jug for a lag was cast33;
                                Fake away.
    But I slipped my darbies34 one morn in May,
                                Fake away,
    And gave to the dubsman35 a holiday.
    And here I am, pals, merry and free,
    A regular rollicking romany36.
                                Nix my doll pals, fake away.

    	“J’le ferai danser une danse
    	Où il n’y a pas de plancher.”