They ſport and play both night and day
while their ouſbands hunt the whale, ſir,
They even ſell their ſmocks and gowns
to ſupport their evil way, ſir.
Then chalk up a ſcore and play the w--re,
what will their huſbands ſay, ſir.
They're worſe than the common girls,
that do it for a living, ſir:
They rob their huſbands night and day,
to the ſoldiers they keep giving;
They tip them money to do a job,
I mean in the ſmall way, ſir,
They treat them with brandy, rum or gin
out of their monthly pay, ſir.
Theſe wanton jades they kiſs and toy
all on the barrack beds, ſir,
And horns long they clap upon
their pour huſband's heads, ſir;
They begin to rue when its too late,
it grieves them very ſore, ſir,
They're afraid when their husbands come
they'll never own them more, ſir.
FINIS.
