SONGS.
THE WONDERFUL WIG.
In Holland there liv’d by Schdam,
The brother of fam’d Mynheer Von Clam,
Whose feelings of pride were very much gall’d,
Because you must know that his head was bauld,
Ri too la ro, &c.
So he went and call’d upon Barbour Bombig,
And told him directly to make him a wig,—
For said he, I can’t get any lady to wed
With me till I get some hair on my head.
Ri too la ro, &c.
Then the barber began (not a moment to wait)
And took the dimensions of Clam’s bauld pate,
And as it was Mynheer’s desire,
The springs were made of a new patent wire,
Ri too la ro, &c.
The wig was made and fitted well,
Which made Von Clam look like a swell;
But when it was fasten’d tight on with the springs,
Oh! he flew in the air just as if he’d got wings.
Ri too la ro, &c.
The barber was struck with wonder quite,
To see the wig go up such a height,
