The Horse And Cart Ferry

It was old Jerry Brown,     Whod an office in town,     And he used to get jocular, very;     And hed go to the Shore     When theyd serve him no more,     And, of course, by the passenger ferry,     A sight on the passenger ferry.     Now this is a song of the ferry,     And a lay of the juice of the berry;     Tis the ballad of Brown,     Whod a business in town,     And commenced to go down     Very slow,     Dont you know?     By coming home just a bit merry.     By the Drunks Boat, thats right,     On a Saturday night     He would often be past being merry;     With his back teeth afloat,     On the twelve oclock boat,     And a spectacle there on the ferry     (A picture to all on the ferry).     In the mornings, ashamed,     Twas the last drink he blamed,     Though the first was the matter with Jerry,     With his nerve out of joint,     Hed sneak down to Blues Point,     And hed cross by the horse-and-cart ferry,     Like a thief, by the horse-and-cart ferry.     But long before night     Hed most likely be tight,     And a subject and theme for George Perry;     And hed cross to the Shore,     Somewhat worse than before,     And a nuisance to all on the ferry;     Singing-drunk on the passenger ferry.     And so it went on     Till his reason seemed gone,     And the Law, so it seemed, got a derry     On Brown. He went down,     And they sent him to town     One day, by the trap, on the ferry,     The Government trap on the ferry.     He was sober and sane     When he came back again,     And the past hed determined to bury,     Or, I mean, live it down,     And he crossed from the town     Like a man, on the passenger ferry.     (There were sceptical souls on that ferry.)     They say twas the jaw     Of his mother-in-law     Drove him back to the juice of the berry;     But he soon got afloat     On the passenger boat     Or adrift on the horse-and-cart ferry     (Wrongly called the ve-hic-ular ferry).     The drink had him fast,     And he drank till at last     He dried up, a withered old cherry;     And they thought him no loss     When they sent him across     In a box, on the cart-and-horse ferry,     In a low, covered trap on the ferry.     Which I rise to explain,     If the moral aint plain,     And if youre a cove that gets merry,     Always stick, when afloat,     To the passenger boat;     Or else to the cart-and-horse ferry,     Or youll make matters worse, like old Jerry.     But this is the song of the ferry,     And the lay of the juice of the berry;     And you will not deny,     If you read by-and-bye,     That the casual eye     Of the Tight     At first sight     Misses much in the song of the ferry.