While The Billy BoilsSearchTim Turpin by trade was a saddler, A nice little chap from his birth;His height was five feet in his stockings, And just about three feet his girth.
He feel deep in love with a maiden, Both buxom and bonnie was she;So, giving the reins to his passion, He said, “Harness up dear with me.”
"For sad'll be my fate without you, And hobbled the aims of my life;Of joy I shall ne'er have the traces, If you don't buckle to as my wife.”
The maid said, “Sir, single life bores me, But just a bit hasty you are,Just curb all this; bridle ambition, For I can't till you ask my papa.”
So the youth tried to whip up his courage, The maiden's papa to assail;And to stir-up his feeble invention, He consulted his friend, Martin Gale.
Hope spurred him as far as her dwelling, But he altered his tone at the door,For her pa got a grip at his collar And pummelled him, till he was sore.
He lifted Tim up by the breeching, And with one of his number nine feet,He fetched Tim a kick on the crupper, That landed him into the street.