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Updated: May 1, 2025
You say you learnt when a boy, and once played in the orchestra at Drury Lane; but now you've come to wandering about suburban streets, and having finished "When other Lips," you will quite naturally play "My Lodging's on the Cold Ground." It was a grand orchestra, that of ours. Night by night it played the symphony of the world, and each night a new symphony was performed, without rehearsal.
A man that ain't fond of music ain't of any account on God's green earth. I wouldn't trust him beyond a broom-straw. There's a mean streak in a man that don't care for music, sure. Why, the time the Democrats elected Peyton, the only thing that saved me from bursting a blood-vessel was Jenny's playing 'My Lodging's on the Cold Ground' with variations.
"Did yez hear that?" said Dalton; "ha, ha, ha an' it's all thrue; she has tould me nothing but the thruth here, then, take the ould vagabond away with you, and do what you like with him " "'I am a bold and rambling boy, My lodging's in the isle of Throy; A rambling boy, although I be, I'd lave them all an' folly thee.
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