Our 'PRENTICE TOM. In the Recruiting Officer

Kite. OUR 'Prentice Tom, may now refuse To wipe his scoundrel master's shoes, For now he's free to sing and play, Over the hills and far away.

We shall lead more happy lives, By getting rid of brats and wives, That scold and brawl both night and day. Over the hills and far away.

PLUME. Over the hills and over the main, To Flanders, Portugal or Spain; The King commands and we'll obey, Over the hills and far away.

Courage boys, 'tis one to ten, But we'll return all gentlemen; While conquering colours we display, Over the hills and far away.