Sammy Slap, the Bill-Sticker.

Sammy Slap, the Bill-Sticker.I’m Sammy Slap, the bill-sticker, and you must all agree, sirs,I sticks to business like a trump, and business sticks to me, sirs;The low folks call me plasterer, but they deserve a banging,Because, genteelly speaking, why my trade is paper-hanging,Chorus.—With my paste, paste, paste,Oh, all the world is puffing,So I paste, paste, paste.All ’round about the city now, when anything’s the go, sirs,You’ll always find me at my post, a sticking up the posters;I’ve hung Ned Forrest twelve feet high, and did it, sirs, quite easy;And I’ve been engaged, too, lately, both by Mario and Grisi.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.I’m not like some in our trade, they deserve their jackets laced, sirs,They stick up half their bosses bills, and sells the rest forwaste, sirs;Now honesty’s best policy, with a good name to retire with,So what I doesn’t use myself—my old girl lights the fire with.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.Sometimes I’m jobbing for the church with charitable sermons,And sometimes for the theatres, the English and the Germans;To me, of course, no odds it is, so long as I’m a winner—Whether I sticks up for a saint, or hangs up for a sinner.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.There’s Jenny Lind, I’m proud to say—sweet music’s great adorner,I’ve had the honor of posting her in every hole and corner;Alboni, too, so nice and plump, I’ve stuck her up that’s certain—And I’ve plastered Mrs. Mowatt, right on top of Billy Burton.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.Well now before I say good-bye, permit me to remind ye,That round about the city here, you’re always sure to find me;And if ever you shall have a job—to show how I deserve ye,About the town, through thick and thin, I’ll brush along to serve ye.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

I’m Sammy Slap, the bill-sticker, and you must all agree, sirs,I sticks to business like a trump, and business sticks to me, sirs;The low folks call me plasterer, but they deserve a banging,Because, genteelly speaking, why my trade is paper-hanging,Chorus.—With my paste, paste, paste,Oh, all the world is puffing,So I paste, paste, paste.All ’round about the city now, when anything’s the go, sirs,You’ll always find me at my post, a sticking up the posters;I’ve hung Ned Forrest twelve feet high, and did it, sirs, quite easy;And I’ve been engaged, too, lately, both by Mario and Grisi.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.I’m not like some in our trade, they deserve their jackets laced, sirs,They stick up half their bosses bills, and sells the rest forwaste, sirs;Now honesty’s best policy, with a good name to retire with,So what I doesn’t use myself—my old girl lights the fire with.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.Sometimes I’m jobbing for the church with charitable sermons,And sometimes for the theatres, the English and the Germans;To me, of course, no odds it is, so long as I’m a winner—Whether I sticks up for a saint, or hangs up for a sinner.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.There’s Jenny Lind, I’m proud to say—sweet music’s great adorner,I’ve had the honor of posting her in every hole and corner;Alboni, too, so nice and plump, I’ve stuck her up that’s certain—And I’ve plastered Mrs. Mowatt, right on top of Billy Burton.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.Well now before I say good-bye, permit me to remind ye,That round about the city here, you’re always sure to find me;And if ever you shall have a job—to show how I deserve ye,About the town, through thick and thin, I’ll brush along to serve ye.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

I’m Sammy Slap, the bill-sticker, and you must all agree, sirs,

I sticks to business like a trump, and business sticks to me, sirs;

The low folks call me plasterer, but they deserve a banging,

Because, genteelly speaking, why my trade is paper-hanging,

Chorus.—With my paste, paste, paste,

Oh, all the world is puffing,

So I paste, paste, paste.

All ’round about the city now, when anything’s the go, sirs,You’ll always find me at my post, a sticking up the posters;I’ve hung Ned Forrest twelve feet high, and did it, sirs, quite easy;And I’ve been engaged, too, lately, both by Mario and Grisi.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

All ’round about the city now, when anything’s the go, sirs,

You’ll always find me at my post, a sticking up the posters;

I’ve hung Ned Forrest twelve feet high, and did it, sirs, quite easy;

And I’ve been engaged, too, lately, both by Mario and Grisi.

Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

I’m not like some in our trade, they deserve their jackets laced, sirs,They stick up half their bosses bills, and sells the rest forwaste, sirs;Now honesty’s best policy, with a good name to retire with,So what I doesn’t use myself—my old girl lights the fire with.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

I’m not like some in our trade, they deserve their jackets laced, sirs,

They stick up half their bosses bills, and sells the rest forwaste, sirs;

Now honesty’s best policy, with a good name to retire with,

So what I doesn’t use myself—my old girl lights the fire with.

Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

Sometimes I’m jobbing for the church with charitable sermons,And sometimes for the theatres, the English and the Germans;To me, of course, no odds it is, so long as I’m a winner—Whether I sticks up for a saint, or hangs up for a sinner.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

Sometimes I’m jobbing for the church with charitable sermons,

And sometimes for the theatres, the English and the Germans;

To me, of course, no odds it is, so long as I’m a winner—

Whether I sticks up for a saint, or hangs up for a sinner.

Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

There’s Jenny Lind, I’m proud to say—sweet music’s great adorner,I’ve had the honor of posting her in every hole and corner;Alboni, too, so nice and plump, I’ve stuck her up that’s certain—And I’ve plastered Mrs. Mowatt, right on top of Billy Burton.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

There’s Jenny Lind, I’m proud to say—sweet music’s great adorner,

I’ve had the honor of posting her in every hole and corner;

Alboni, too, so nice and plump, I’ve stuck her up that’s certain—

And I’ve plastered Mrs. Mowatt, right on top of Billy Burton.

Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

Well now before I say good-bye, permit me to remind ye,That round about the city here, you’re always sure to find me;And if ever you shall have a job—to show how I deserve ye,About the town, through thick and thin, I’ll brush along to serve ye.Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

Well now before I say good-bye, permit me to remind ye,

That round about the city here, you’re always sure to find me;

And if ever you shall have a job—to show how I deserve ye,

About the town, through thick and thin, I’ll brush along to serve ye.

Chorus.—With my paste, &c.

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