And return to our Judge, whose name was Wyman.
The Judge oft drank in a hostelrie
Kept by a man whose name was Sterret,
Where he met with jolly company,
But where the whisky was void of merit.
The real Minié rifle brand,
That at forty rods kills out of hand.
Well, it came to pass that one night the Judge
At Sterret’s, after a long, hot day,
Got so tight that he couldn’t budge,