Ii

Now Moll's flash com-pan-ion was a Chick-lane gill, and he garter'd below his knee, He had twice been pull'd, and nearly lagg'd, but got off by going to sea; With his pipe and quid, and chaunting voice, "Potatoes!" he would cry; For he valued neither cove nor swell, for he had wedge snug in his cly Singing, tol-lol-lol-lido.