John Pengelly be a clever man,
An’ he keeps a grocery store;
He've got a seat on the Burryin’ Board,
An’ a sow as turns three score;
On Sunday night he holds the plate
An’ on Thursday shuts at four.
He talks to Passon on clover crops,
An’ Farmer Hain on Sin;
An’ keeps the Parish Register,
An’ a dog that isn’ thin;
An’ wears a watch-chain on his chest,
An’ a Moses beard on his chin.
He allays takes the rhubarb prize
At the Flower Show every year;
An’ if‘ ee mind to order it
He'll get‘ ee Bottled Beer;
( Though some as do n't agree with that )
Besides it's rather dear.
Two different kinds of lard he sells,
But awnly one of tay;
An’ he've a yaller oilskin coat
He hopes to sell some day,
But the awnly man it might have fit
Was drownded out to say.
His matches hang in a cabbage net,
An’ his onions hang in strings;
An’ allays at the Church Bazaar
He sells the Hooplar rings;
An’ if us get a concert up
An’ there's no one else, he sings.
So be you'm seekin’ clever men,
Come down along o’ we;
We'll show‘ ee John Pengelly then
Behind his grocery;
An’ when you taste his peppermints,
Sure‘ nuff, tis mazed you'll be.