Sing a Gong of rieshas A pocket Tall of dol Give. the cockle forty conta And then he always hollers But pay a dime and three cents Which is his proper fare He'll pocket it and walk away: And will not even xlare. Sing sony of Hongke pocket fell of tar: Four and twenty Chinese Packed in a ear.
Whea the cir was opened They all. wore stuck together. Oh? Wasn't that a-pretty sight, Al in the hot weather.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.