Caleb Quotem; Or, Jack of all Trades

I?m Parish clerk and sexon here,
My name is Caleb Quotem;
I?m painter, glazier, auctioneer;
In short I am Factotum.
I make a watch ? I mend the pumps;
For plumber?s work my nack is;
I phisick sell ? I cure the mumps;
I tomb-stones cut ? I cut the rumps,
Of little school boys Jackies.
Geography is my delight,
Ballad ? Epitaphs I write;
Almanacks I can indite;
And graves I dig compact and tight
At dusk by the fire, like a good jolly cock
When my day work is done and all over,
I tipple, I smoke, and I wind up the clock
With my sweet Mrs. Quotem, in clover
With my amen, gaymen,
Run Quotem,
Putty and lead;
Stumps, mumps;
Bumps, rumps;
Mortar he-thumps;
Sign-post daubery,
Split-crow, or strawbery;
Chimery, rhimery,
Liquorish, stickerish,
Chizzle tomb,
Going, a-going,
Quills, pill,
Song inditing, epitaph writing,
Steeple sound, corpse to the ground;
Windsor soap, physsick the Pope;
Home hop, shut up shop;
Punch-bowl crockery, wind up clockery,
Many small articles to make up a sum;
I dabble in all ? I?m merry and run;
And it?s heigho; for Caleb Quotem, O.

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