All you that love retirement, free, I’m sure you will pity me,
Who all my life-time used, do you see, to very Quiet Lodgings—
You must know that word was sent me down, that my good old uncle Brown
Had died, and left me every crown; so I must come and live in town.
I wrote to my cousin, Jemmy Wood, and axed if he’d be so good,
As find me in his neighborhood, very Quiet Lodgings.
All right; I came to town next day, and to my lodgings went straightway,
And really thought them, au fawit, a very Quiet Lodgings;
A street without a thoroughfare, well down town, I do declare,
Where the river runs at the end so rare, and sends up such refreshing air.
My landlady, with look demurred, said, I'd find them quiet and very pure,
So I took them for a twelve-month, .sure, my very Quiet Lodgings.
That night, at twelve, I went to bed, but scarcely had laid down my head,
When a noise that would awoke the dead, in my very Quiet Lodgings.
The sleep at once forsook my eyes, I bolted up with great surprise,
I wondered, but could not surmise, what it was that made the horrid noise.
Next day, I found it out by chance, that a nigger singer, named Tom Vance,
Every night rehearsed a break-down dance, overhead in my Quiet Lodgings.
Next morning, long before I rose, or popped my head from ’neath the clothes,
A fife and drum played “Off She Goes,” in front of my Quiet Lodgings;
And scarcely had they gone away, when I hoped to be quiet all the day,—
When a barrel organ began to play, “Nix my Dolly Pallo Fake Away.”
And they had hardly left the place, when two cornets and a double bass
Came blowing in my very face, in front of my Quiet Lodgings.
My dinner I thought to get in peace, but the nuisance didn’t cease,
In fact it seemed more to increase all around my Quiet Lodgings;
For a regular band appeared in view, with drums cornets, and cymbals too,
And kicked up such a philaloo, I wished they’d blown themselves in two.
And scarcely had the fellows fled, when two chaps, by instinct led,
Began to punch each other’s heads in front of my Quiet Lodgings.
The mob hurrah’d with all their might, and urged the fellows on to fight,
And they went at it left and right, in front of my Quiet Lodgings.
Soon on each side their friends went in, and a regular fight did soon begin;
Through my window a brick came smashing in, with rage I sent it back agin;
Then six policemen came in view, and twigged me as the brick it flew,
And lugged me off to prison, through the row at my Quiet Lodgings.
Next day with rage my heart did swell; out by the roots I pulled the bell;
My landlady rushed up pell mell, at my very Quiet Lodgings:
“Are these your Quiet Lodgings, pray? I’ll leave your house this very day!”
“But before you go away, a twelve-month’s rent you’ll have to pay.”
I paid the year with sad grimmace, and rushed out of the cursed place,
And slam’d the door in the old hag’s face, and damned her Quiet Lodgings.