—You nedn’t have swore.
VII
That’s his collar round the candle-stick
An’ that’s the dark blue tie I bought ’im,
An’ these is the woman’s kids he’s so fond on,
An’ ’ere comes the cat that caught ’im.
I dunno where his eyes was—a gret
Round-shouldered hag! My sirs, to think
Of him stoopin’ to her! You’d wonder he could
Throw hisself in that sink.