SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH
I saw young 'Arry with his billycock on,
Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed,
Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole,
And flop with such sore toil into his saddle
As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem,"
And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.
'Arry's Latest Conundrum.—Why is a title-page like charity?—Becos it always begins a tome. (Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see!)
Cockney Friend. "Good 'evins! there's a pheasant!"
Country Friend. "Well, what of it?"
Cockney. "Why, it ain't the fust of Hoctober?"
Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on manners). "And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen without an introduction."
'Liza. "We knows yer don't, miss, an' we offen pities yer!"
