Gents’ clothes now are cheap; buy, if you have not,
And go to Sholomansh’s celebrated depot.
Mark their drab Chesterfield of the first water,
With the first rain ’twill shrink three inches shorter.
Twelve shillings new—it surely can’t be dear,
And warranted to wear for half the year.
The celebrated window-cleaning blouse,
To buy at six-and-six you can’t refuse.
The pound dress-coat is worthy of all praise,
And fashionably made of fine black baize.