Digital Tradition Mirror

The Shoemaker

The Shoemaker

 My mother sent me to the school,
 To learn to be a stocking-knitter,
 But I went wrang and play'd the fule,
 And married with a shoemaker.
 Shoemaker, leather cracker,
 With all his stinking, dirty water,
 I wish a thousand deaths I'd died
 Ere I had wed a shoemaker.

 His hands are like a cuddy's houghs,
 His face is like the high-lowed leather,
 His ears are like I don't know what,
 His hair is like a bunch of heather.
 Shoemaker, Leather cracker,
 Stinking kit and rotten leather,
 I wish a thousand deaths I had died
 Ere I had wed a shoemaker.

 He sent me for a pint of  wine.
 And I brought him a pint o' water,
 But he played be as good a trick
 He made my shoe's o' rotten leather,
 Shoemaker leather strapper,
 Three rows o' rotten leather,
 Balls o' wax and stinking water,
 Who would have a shoemaker?


Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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