THE GYPSY'S SELLING SONG.

My good man — he's an old, old man —

And my good man got a fall,

To buy me a bargain so fast he ran

When he heard the gypsies call:

“Buy, buy brushes,

Baskets wrought o’ rushes.

Buy them, buy them, take them, try them,

Buy, dames all.”

My old man, he has money and land,

And a young, young wife am I.

Let him put the penny in my white hand

When he hears the gypsies cry:

“Buy, buy laces,

Veils to screen your faces.

Buy them, buy them, take and try them.

Buy, maids, buy.”