Fanny Hill's Bang-Up Reciter (1836)

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FANNY HILL'S

Bang-up Reciter,

FRISKEY SONGSTER

FIVE SHILLINGS

Nothing but regular out and outers!

We found this little book of bawdy songs, supposedly to have
been found in the first instance, in the cupboard of the
notorious Fanny Hill, a young lady who has caused quite
a to-do in the world, even after two hundred years,
lapse since her death.

We would like to point out that the full
title page is the original setting of one
hundred and thirty years ago and that the
pictures are copies from the original Edition

published by

P. R. Wells Publishing Co.
525 Liverpool Road, London, N.7,

FANNY HILLS
BANG-up RECITER

First Published
Second Published
Third Published

1835
1836
1965

Printed in
Great Britain

First Published in 1835 & 1836 by G. K. Edwards, Printer

44 Wych Street. Nr. St. Clement's

FANNY HILL'S

Bang-up Reciter,

FRISKEY SONGSTER,

AND

Containing a slashing lot of

RANDY, FRISKEY, LICENTIOUS

AND SLAP-UP FLASH SONGS :
Found in the Cabinet of the late

FANNY HILL,

AMONG WHICH ARE

Pray what's the cause your Cock wont lay?
But I pulls out my Shag.

WILLIAM'S SILENT FLUTE.
The Maidens small Pipkin,

THE HAIRY RING,
The Thing that's in his Breeches,
Queen of the Wrigglewell-Islands,
Sal, beneath thy Smock,

Nothing but regular out and outers!

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Continued

The Silent Flute
air — The Coronation

As William late with Polly sat,

They talk'd of amorous blisses;

Kind things she said, which she repaid,

In pleasing smiles and kisses.

With tuneful tongue, of love he sung,

She thank'd him for his ditty;

But said, one day she heard him say,

The Flute was mighty pretty.

Right Tol de rol, etc.

Young William, who her meaning knew,

Took out his pipe to charm her;

And while he shove with wanton love,

And sprightly airs to warm her,

She begg'd the swain to play one strain,

In all the softess measure,

Whose killing sound would sweetly wound,

And make her die with pleasure.

Right Tol de rol, etc.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Right Tol de rol, etc.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

COCK TRAVELLING

a comic recitation

It is well known that stages daily go,

From London unto Croydon to and fro,

And as I came by one the other day,

I'll tell you what did happen on the way.

I had not long been seated on the top,

Before a gem'man calls out — "Coachman stop !

You're off for London — I'm going there,

Pray tell me how much is your outside fare ? "

To which he quick replies — " Why don't you see,

We're full, and got no room at all ".

For this stranger you must understand,

Stood all the while with cock in hand;

For he had been to Croydon Fair,

And bought a fine young bantam there,

He placed it underneath his arm,

That he might keep it safe and warm.

The Silent Flute (Cont.d)
Eager to do't, he takes the flute,
And every accent traces;
Love trickling thro' his fingers flew,
And whispered melting graces.
He played his part with wondrous art,
Expecting praises after;
But she, instead of falling dead,
Burst into a loud laughter.

Right Tol de rol, etc.

Taking a hint, as Polly meant,
Said he, My dear, be easy;
I have a flute, which, though 'tis mute,
May play a tune to please ye!
Then down he laid the charming maid
He found her kind and willing :
He play'd again, and tho' each strain
Was silent, yet 'twas killing.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Two ladies, who were in the coach,

Beheld him first on his approach —

They view'd his cock with much delight

And said, as he was so polite,

Sooner than he should not ride,

Why, he might bring his cock inside;

To which the coachman did agree,

So off we set again with glee !

We had not travelled far, when lo !

His cock did raise its head up so,

That one of the fair maids did say,

" Pray what's the cause your cock won't

What makes it look so very red,

So stiff and spruce about the head ? "

" Fair lady, it is quite unruly

I'll tell you what's the cause and truly,

FANNY HILLS RECITER

Before you, you have got a muff,

Which appears both warm and rough.

If you will give him shelter there,

But one half hour in your care.

He'll lay his head down quiet.

And for many an hour he will not stand !

COCK TRAVELLING (cont'd)

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

MY RUMMY POLL'S BLIND EYE

A New Amatory Parody on

The Bloom is on the Rye

My Rummy Poll, my Rummy Poll.

Her mouth is all airy;

But then the thing I most admire,

Is her little black blind eye !

Its eye-brow is so black and long,

I love with it to play.

And just to give the darling ease,

I stroke it night and day:

My rummy poll, my rummy poll, etc.

My Polly's eye, though it is blind

At a moving tale. Oh dear.

Whene'er that tale doth come from me,

Will shed a balmy tear.

I love to lift its little lid,

And think it is no sin.

To make her happy if I can.

And put my lancet in !

My rummy Poll, my rummy Poll.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

COCK A DOODLE DOO

A rummy chaunt

Not far from town, in a village cot,

A crusty maid long dwelt had,
Who to her sixtieth year had got

What man's delight ne'er felt had

Cock a doodle-doo.
Althoug' she'd got galore of cash,

Her heart as hard as rock was,
And her effections part was plac'd,

upon a Bantam cock was;
But luckless maid on a luckless day

When thinking nought about it,
Some villains stole her cock away,

And she could not do without it.
Oh lack a day ! Some villains stole

Her cock away, and she could not do without it.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

COCK A DOODLE DOO

She sent the crier round about.

The whole town in a clatter was.
As with his bell he called them out.

All wondered what the matter was . . .
Cock a doodle-doo.
Oh yes, Oh yes ! ding dong, ding dong.
They thus began to spout it ... .
It was at twelve o'clock at noon.
Or somewhere there about it.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

COCK A DOODLE DOO

Poor Goody Grurap has lost her cock,

And could not do without it.
Oh lack a day ! Some villains stole her cock away,

And she could not do without it.
A brisk young fellow, stout and hale,
Hearing she'd got cash enough,
With vows of love he did her assail,

For she was more than old enough —
Cock a doodle-doo.

And as he knew she dearly did

Delight in oh, to suck eggs,
He promised her for supper, almost every night,

A thumping pair of duck eggs.
But Ah ! she cried, you do but mock,

For you know nought about it, Oh dear, Oh dear,
I've lost my cock, and cannot do without it.

Oh dear ! Oh dear !
Some villains stole her cock away,

And she could not do without it

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

COCK A DOODLE DOO

He promised her if she would wed,

No one it should be known to.
And what is more he said he'd got a

Cock of his own too — Cock a doodle-doo.
In wedlock's bands they soon were joined.

In hymen's holy fetters.
He found her cock, and his one too

And he put them both together.
And now she cried, " You do not mock

For you know all about it! "
She got so fond of his game cock,

She could not do without it.
Oh lack a day ! She got so fond of his game cock.

She could not be without it,

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Hairy Ring

A rummy Parody on " The Bridal Ring "

1 dreamt last night, neath the moon's pale rays,
On a bed of a downy feather,
That you was quite naked. Peg to my amaze.
And that we were in bed together.

I thought I gave you a tool such as this,
Then into your arms I did spring,

Oh ! how great was my rapture —my pleasure —my bliss,
As I touched your hairy ring — your hairy ring.

I thought then you heaved up your buttocks so plump,
And gave me a more so clever :

As I played with your bubbies, and pinched your rump,
I thought I could kiss you forever.

Then I thought I gave you twelve inches — no less,
And transported with bliss, made you spring,
From my dream I awoke — in my arms you to press.
And to play with your hairy ring.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

THE THREE TRUNKS

a favourite comic recitation

Seated at the window of an inn,

In a small country town,
I saw the London Coach drive in,

And set three females down

The first, a rigid dame of ancient race,
With a hollow eye and wrinkled face,

Who long since had parted with the graces,

And popp'd her virtues in their proper places.

The second, a sprightly blooming dame,
That might a stoic's heart inflame,

Eyes bright, teeth white, hair deep yellow,
Bosom plump — in short, all things mellow.

The third was trotting by her side.

As yet too young to be a bride,
Long flaxen ringlets grac'd her lovely neck,

And thus the pretty charmer 'gan to speak:

FANNY HILL'S RECITER 19

My grand-mamma's is old, wide and bare,

Except at the top, a little bristly hair.
My mamma's is not so old, nor so wide, but much longer,

With a deal more curl, curlyer and stronger.
But my trunk is nice, new and small

With scarcely any signs of hair at all

Continued

THE THREE TRUNKS (cont'd)

" Mamma she cried, " 111 run to Cox's "

44 Do so, my dear, and ask about our boxes

Swift as Camilla, to the place she flew

And found the waggon office keeper Hugh;

" Mr. Hugh, be so good as to send our luggage home! "

44 Aye my dear, but how am I to know'em ? "
44 There are three trunks, and a hamper of wine,

Grand-mamma's trunk, mamma's and mine.

But, as you may better know them —

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER 21

THE BLUE VEIN (cont'd)

The time this damned jallop in Ned's belly lurked.
No post-horse, like Neddy, was ever so worked;
Three nights and three days he lay squirting in bed.
And neither could hold up his tail nor his head.

The storm at length ceasing, purged Ned began to think

On some sweet revenge — for this d--d stink;

For I'm damned, exclaimed Ned, if these bitches shan't fine
That Fm cabbag'd before, although I'm loosened behind.

Twas early one morn, exercising his steed,
Ned saw an old gipsy hag crossing the mead.
Straight he hailed, " Where do you hie ? "
She replied, " To tell fortunes of females hard by

Now these females, Ned found, were his jalluping friends.
So he thought it the season to make them amends :
Then he bribed for the cart, and the gipsy's old clothes;
Thus equiqpped, said Ned, "Trick for trick —

damme, here goes ".

Continued

THE BLUE VEIN

a celebrated amorous ditty,
written and sung by Mr. Hewerdine

Ye fun-loving fellows, for comical tales,
Match this if you can truly, current in Wales.
The bible so old and the testament so new,
Have none more authentic, more faithful or true :

Four frisky maidens, young, handsome and plump.
Who could each crack a flea on their bubbies or rump.
Took it into their heads, just to bother the tail
Of Ned Natty, a groom, so they jallup'd his ale.

Now Ned on red herrings one evening did sup,

So drank every drop of the gripe-giving cup;

Soon his guts began to grumble, and Ned shortly found,

His bowels give way, and his body unbound;

The buckskin's gay leather, by gallows confin'd

Could not be cut down till indecently lin'd.

This made Neddy's tail, though accustomed to sprout,

Shrink into his belly, and turn up his snout.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Blue Vein (cont'd)

First, Molly the cook-maid he took by the hand,
From her greasy palm told what her fortune had planned :
She was soon to be married, each year to have a brat;
" Indeed ! " cried out cooky, " How can you tell that ? "

" I'll tell you the number ", said Ned. " Let me see
The blue vein that's iowplac'd twixt the navel and knee ".
When she pulled up her clothes, Ned exclaimed, " I declare,
Your blue vein I can't see, 'tis so covered with hair ".

Next dairy-maid Dolly, of letchery full,
Swore she was then bleeding, for she'd had the bull;
To the gipsy, said Dolly, " Can you, old woman, tell
Whether bull or cow calf, make my belly so swell ? "

Then he view'd her blue vein, he said, " Dol, by my troth,
You must find out two fathers, for you will have both
For the squire and the curate, when heated with ale,
Dolly Dairy had milked in her amorous pail.

Continued

FANNY HILLS RECITER

ftipaf.s S\tu*t*tn<f t t;t b when the littit*.< fun* ike ifrmiU **fli\Xi
h. >><n!h m. // - t, ,»tt Sptt'fmtji /w//a.v ami t\nk km* KMVttXS /

Now Kitty, the housemaid, so frisky and fair.
Who smelt none the sweeter for carrotty hair.
Presenting her palm to the gipsy so shrewd.
Was candidly told that her nature was lewd.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Blue Vein (cont'd)

While feeling the vein near her gold-girted nick,
Kate play'd the old gipsy a slippery trick;
So Kate that had never been considered a whore.
Was told she'd miscarried the morning before.

When came Peggy the prude, who no bawdy could bear.
Yet would tickle the lap-dog while combing his hair;
kk Is my sweetheart, the butler '\ said Peggy sincere,
"And shall we be married, pray gipsy, this year?"

Quoth the gipsy, " You'll have him for better or worse,
But you'll find that his corkscrew is not worth a curse;
There goes Peggy, a bottle most bl ly corked *\

Now Ned, thus revenged, bid the maidens good day.
But curious, they asked him a moment to stay.
For said Molly the cook-maid, " We all long to see
If you've a blue vein 'twixt the navel and knee ! "

('ontumcJ

FANNY HILLS RECITER

The Blue Vein (cont'd)

Ned pulled up his clothes, sir, when to their surprise.
They beheld his blue vein of a wondrous size,
The sight, Kate the carrotty couldn't withstand,
So she grasped the blue vein till it burst in her hand,

So alarmed, the prude Peggy went into strong fits.
Frightened Cook and Dolly Dairy out of their wits.

Then carrotty Kitty to gipsy Ned spoke :
h4 We'll each give a guinea to stiffle the joke ".

But Ned swore that no money should silence his tongue,
That the tale should be told in a mirth-moving song;
44 As caution *\ cried Ned, 44 to all Abigails frail.
That there's more fun in kissing than in jalloping ale

The story like wildfire, o'er Cambria was spread,
From the borders of Chester, to famed Holyhead,
In a vein of good humour, the vein that is blue,
Will long be remembered by me and by you.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Then fill a bright bumper to honour this vein;

A bumper of pleasure to badger all pain;

So hear us, celestrials, and gay mortals below.

Drink, here's to the blue vein wherein floods of joy flow.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Continued

The Blue Vein (cont'd)

Ml MAIDEN'S SMALL PIPKIA

As early one morning, when flowers were dawning,
I walked o'er the meadows to take the fresh air;
When I met a young damsel so lovely and charming,
And she had a basket of fine earthenware.

1 went up to meet her, and sweetly did greet her,
Said I, " My dear jewel dispel ev'ry fear.
If you will be civil I mean you no evil
I wish just to finger your fine earthenware ".

With my tural lal, etc.

She smiled, so bewitching My Roger was itching.
Only just for five minutes to stand at his ease !
Said she, " I've fine vessels, and a nice little pipkin,
Which you're welcome to handle as long as you please

I saw by her leering, and winking and jeering.
Her pipkin was free for my use - so alas !
I embraced her so neatly, and felt her completely.
Then down 1 soon laid her upon the green grass.

With my tural lal, etc.

FANNY HILLS RECITER

Ml HI VIIIKVS NMALL I»I1»KI\ (tout d)

Not long with my treasure, I'd tasted of pleasure.

Of sweet fascination she never had lacked.

When she says, " I'm now ruined, what have you been doing ?

I declare that my nice pipkin you've cracked ".

Afraid to alarm her, I uttered, fct My charmer,

That your pipkin is crack'd, let it give you no pain;

For you see very plainly I do not talk vainly,

For I've got a tool that will mend it again ",

With my tural lal, etc.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Continued

PARODY ON THE MAID OF JUDAH

Concupiscent chaunt, sung at the Union. Bow Street

No more shall the girls of St. Giles's spring.
And say that the game's very tine;
Or young men play with the hairy thing.
Unless they'll allow it's divine.

This, was the chaunt of a girl in full trade,
Who exerted her love-cooling powers,
Twas a very long time since she'd been a maid.
And her name it was Miss Polly Bowers.
No more shall the girls of St. Giles's spring,
And say that the game's very fine.

FANNY HILLS RECITER

PARODY ON THE MAID OF JJJDAH (cont'd)

Oh. where are the men who admired my face.
And longed all my favours to share :
Who would clasp me all night in their loving embrace,
And call me surpassingly fair.

The rough hair grows on a certain spot.
Which yields gentle moisture in showers,
Joys of the bedroom, you'll ne'er be forgot.
While my name is Miss Polly Bowers.

No more shall the girls of St Giles's spring.
And say that the game's very fine.

did s<2 v I,t r >smam and Q<\\;>uf Ultv.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Queen Of The Wrigglewell Islands

A South Sea Stave, sung everywhere

air — Vulcan's Cave

Come listen to a rummy stave,

About a circumstance so grave,
That happen'd to a sailor brave,
With the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

This seaman's name was bold Jack Junk,
Whose mates were in the ocean sunk,
Which put Jack in a deuced funk,
And made him pious as a monk.

He swam upon a raft all day,
And then on shore was thrown, they say;
Where soon he had some rummy play,
With the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Queen Of The Wrigglewell Islands (cont'd)

u Hoky, Poky, Wanky, Fum,

Clap your hand beneath my bum.

That's the way to make me come

Says the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

The squaws came to the shore in shoals.
While Jack his eyes around him rolls.

And saw them all as black as coals.
The squaws of the Wrigglewell Islands.

You're a slap-up set o' gels, says Jack,
For he wasn't taken much aback,
So he instantly unloosed his slack,
And laid the Queen upon her back.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER 33

The Queen Of The Wrigglewell Islands (cont'd)

The Queen who ne'er had had a King,

Didn't know what to think of the thing;
When a singular feeling made her spring,

The Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

" Hoky, Poky, Wanky, Fum,

Clap your hands beneath my bum,

That's the way to make me come '\

Says the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

The Queen the game so pleasant found,

Of being mounted on the ground,

That she made him take her women round,

Did the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

Continued

34 FANNY HILL'S RECITER

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

THiss Wilkin s Cock

air — Nice Young Girl
A lachrymose ditty, Sung at Mother H's.

Miss Wilkins kept a little house,

And I'll to you relate,
Now she was rather backward,

In paying her water rate.
She hadn't paid for many a month,

The gatherer she'd mock,
Until at last he threatened her.

That he'd cut off her cock.

Tol de rol, etc.

This made her very anxious,

And her pleasure put to flight;
But she had a friend was rather rich;

Think his name was Knight;
She called a neighbour into her,

Whose name I think was Grant,
And said, " If you see Knight perhaps

You'll tell him what I want

Tol de rol, etc.

Continued

The Queen Of The Wrigglewell Islands (cont'd)

Poor Jack at this look'd mighty blue,
It was a work for a whole ship's crew;
But what, poor devil, could he do ?
So, like a man, he the work went through.

He did it once, he did it twice,
The ladies found the sport so nice,
That they installed him in a trice,
The King of the Wrigglewell Islands.

" Hoky, Poky, Wanky, Fum,

Clap your hand beneath my bum,

That's the way to make me come

Says the Queen of the Wrigglewell Islands.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Tol de rol, etc.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

As I walked out one morning in May,
I accidentally met with a charming pretty maid,
As to love I was inclin'd, I to her then told my mind - -
I was deeply entangled with her Cuckoo's nest.

O young man, says she, I am innocent and young,
How can I believe your false deluding tongue ?
For I see it in your eyes, and it gives me great surprise.
That your inclination lies in my Cuckoo's nest.

My darling, says I, don't be any ways surprised,
It's nothing but fondness that you see in my eyes :
I'll marry you. I swear, and make you my dear,
If you'll let me slip my hand on your Cuckoo's nest.

Young man, says she, I'll consent to no such thing,
For mother's often told me it was a great sin,
My maidenhead to lose, and then be abused,
So have nothing to do with my Cuckoo's nest.

Continued

THE CUCKOO'S NEST

Tfliss Wilkin s Cock (cont'd)

The neighbour said he would do,

But Knight, that faithless man,
Said if she wanted cash off him,

To come was not his plan.
She tried to melt the gatherer.

He was firm as any rock,
And said, " Tomorrow morning, Ma'am,

I shall cut off your cock ".

Tol de rol, etc.

The morning came despite her tears.

Her cock was cut they say;
And every vestige of the same,

Was taken quite away.
And now her water will not run ■—-

Enough the heart to shock
It is — I hope no lady fair.

Will ever lose her cock.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

O my darling, says I, it is no such thing,
Your common sense will tell you it is not a great sin;
You were sent on earth to increase and do your best,
And help a man to heaven in your Cuckoo's nest.

Oh my dear, then she says, I cannot you deny,

For you have won my heart by the rolling of your eye;

And since it is so, it is lucky we met —

You may gently slip your hand upon my Cuckoo's nest.

To church this couple went, was married indeed,
And now that this poor girl has lost her maidenhead,
In a snug little cottage, they do each other bless,
And he constantly enjoys her little Cuckoo's nest.

FANNY HILLS RECITER

My straight hair'd Sal. beneath thy smock
You've got a thing that men might shock;
Tis like a lawy's wig and forget I never shall
When first I saw the fanny of my straight hair'd Sal.

My straight hair'd Sal, in bed we've laid,

And in your milky way I've stray'd.

And Oh, I never found, in any other gal,

Such a luscious more as yourn. My straight hair'd Sal .

My straight hair'd Sal you've turfed it for me.

And I have been out on the mai for thee;

But Oh, I'd not resign to any other pal.

One touch of your fanny. Oh my straight hair'd Sal.

MY STRAIGHT HAIR'D SAL

THE CUCKOO'S NEST (cont'd)

FANNY HILLS RECITER

THE GREAT UNMENTIONABLE

air The Derby Ram

As I peeped through the key-hole.

Up pairs of stairs just three;
I saw the funniest thing, sirs,
That ever you did see.

The thing was stout and strong, sirs.

And hairy, too, I'm sure;

This thing was twelve inches long, sirs,

Indeed it was no more, indeed it was no more.

When I beheld this thing, sirs,
It was cock'd up on the bed;
Two peaches hung down below, sirs.
And its face was scarlet red.

It was so very long, sirs,

It's true upon my soul,

It looked like the leg of the bedstead.

Or a monstrous scaffold pole.

Just like a monstrous scaffold pole.

FANNY HILLS RECITER

u mam

*\nd JAiJftY t? I am Sure, ~fh£* thing h!!*^^^^
i f was nt> Mjr? -

Not long had it been there, sirs.
When a mouth just like a pit.
All covered round with hairs, sirs,
Came in and swallowed it.

But when it again came out. sirs.
It nearly struck me dumb;
It was like a pickled eel, sirs.
Or a washer-woman's thumb
Or a washer-woman's thumb.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

th£ modern priapus

A titillating stave, sung at Mother Davis's

Air Little Mike

Little Peter was born about ten in the morning
The nurses and the gossips were all in amaze,
He'd got so much tackle his person adorning,
They never saw the like of it in all their days.

May providence send us

Good Luck ! How tremendous
The child is prepared for
To tackle each maid.

Tis a Modern Priapus

Fate send he escape us !

For sure such appendages
Ne'er were displayed.

Tol de rol.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER 43

nt M&mm prmpus feme <tj

Tol de rol, etc.
Oh, says his brother, do look at this, mother,

Here's a large thing dangling down from the child !

Hold your tongue, said his mother, he's just like his father,

For 'twas by its largeness that I was beguiled.

The bigger the sweeter.
All's right little Peter,

Come cock up your head, babe,
And laugh at them all.

No woman that's living,
But would be forgiving,

A man sooner for being

Too large than too small.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

THE THING THAT'S IN HISJ BREECHES
a slashing chaunt, sung at the Shades, ets.
Air — Hodge and his Leather Breeches

I'm very fond of fun —

I like a little larking;

And my way through life

With pleasure I'd be marking.

But sometimes, you must know,

I feel some queerish itches,

When I gaze on a man,

For the thing that's in his breeches.

Tu-ral loo.

It's always been my plan,
Because it gives me pleasure,
Whene'er I get a man
To rummage o'er his treasure,
And feel his precious stones —
He my poor sense bewitches;
I wouldn't lose for thrones,
The thing that's in his breeches.

Tu-ral loo.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

The Thing That's In His Breeches (cont'd)

I've got a little thing so pretty and so hairy;
Tis fit for a king, or any moonlight fairy,
Many a beauty rare, this lovely spot enriches;
But for men I only care,

And the thing that's in his breeches.

Tu-ral loo.

I know not how it is, a certain kind of feeling,

Whene'er I gaze on a man,

Is o'er my senses stealing,

The sensations queer,

Arise to wondrous pitches,

When a man comes near,

With the thing thafs in his breeches.

Tu-ral loo.

My heart goes pit-a-pat,

When a youthful lover kisses;

I scarce know what Fm at,

I riot run with blisses.

44 Long with the man I love,

Fd leap o*er stiles and ditches,

To gain a little share,

From the thing that's in his breeches ".

Tu-ral loo.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Meat and Gravy

or The Frenchman and the Blowen :

an original song — air, Humphrey Duggins

A Frenchman to London once came for a spree,
The wonders, and grand exhibitions to see,
But the sport you must know he was most to inclined.
Was to find out a pretty girl to his mind.

Fol de dol, etc.

As he was a wandering along up the Strand,
He met a young blowen drest stylish and grand;
He spoke to her boldly, she wink'd her eye,
And so they both stepped into a brothel close by.

Fol de dol, etc.

When they'd got in a room, he there asked the price —
Says she, Sir, two sovereigns and that in a trice.
The Frenchman stared, for he was a poor man,
But the very next moment he thought of a plan.

Fol de dol, etc.

Continued

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

Meat and Gravy

(cont'd)

So he said to the blowen — against that I'm not.
But first you must make a small drain in de pot,
Then the blowen stoop'd down in a shake to serve him,
And the chamber-pot she filled right bang to the brim.

Fol de dol, etc.

Then he pull'd out his something, and in the bright drain,
He washed and slosh'd it, again and again.
Said he,44 Dat's enough, all the rest I can spare,
Fve had de gravy, but de meat is too dear

Fol de dol, etc.

FANNY HILL'S RECITER

FANNY HILL'S RECITER 49

Two Penn'orth Of Shag (cont'd)

Jack of his laming indeed couldn't brag;

But. discovered, by spelling, the lady sold shag;

He walk'd into the shop, just to lay out his pelf,

When he saw sweet Miss Try-it-on, scratching herself.
Derry down, etc ... .

He stared like an ignorant child of the ocean

And marvell'd to see how her hand was in motion;

Says he, Ma'am, your scratching I beg you'll not flag.

But when done perhaps you'll give me two penn'orth o' shag.
Derry down, etc ... -

Continued

TWO PENN'ORTH OF SHAG

air—Derry Down

Jack Jigger a sailor just came off the waves,
Was singing out: Britons never shall be slaves;
He was smoking his pipe, in one hand very pat,
And with the other, was rubbing his prat.

Derry down, etc ....

He was rolling along, puffing sorrow away,
And pitying landsmen at home who would stay;
When he found to his grief his tobacco was out,
And where to get more was a long time in doubt.

Derry down, etc ... ,

He looked up and down,.both sides of the street.
Thinking he should a tobacconist's meet;
At last, 'twas with rapture, his eyes did meet one,
With a black boy outside, kept by Miss Miss Try-it-on.

Derry down, etc . . .