III

A link boy once I stood the gag, [4]
At Charing Cross did ply,
Here's light your honor for a mag, [5]
But now my potatoes cry.
_Chorus._ And they all, etc.

IV

With a blue bird's eye about my squeeg, [6]
And a check shirt on my back, [7]
A pair of large wedges in my hoofs,
And an oil skin round my hat.
_Chorus._ And they all, etc.

V

I'll bait a bull or fight a cock,
Or pigeons I will fly;
I'm up to all your knowing rigs [8]
Whilst I my potatoes cry.
_Chorus._ And they all, etc.

VI

There's five pounds two-pence honest weight
Your own scales take and try;
For nibbing culls I always hate, [9]
And I in safety cry.