"Hear! hear! Shut up, will ye, and let the gal tork," said Slap-Up Peter.
"Well," said Bet, broken down in her attempt at a speech, "I move that we have a song from 'Teddy the Kinchin.' Will he hoblige?"
"He will! he will!" said a dozen voices.
"TEDDY THE KINCHIN'S SONG."
"I am sorry, me blokes, that my woice is so werry much out of tune in singing at Her Majesty's Hopera in the Haymarket, but howsumbever, as I have given hup my hengagement at that 'ouse, I'll fake you a few werses to show wot I wonce wos when I wos in woice," said this cheerful young blackguard and thief, who had a pair of eyes like a ferret, and could not have been more than seventeen years of age, as he stood there dressed in the height of his idea of the fashion, with a flashy velvet coat and satin scarf, showing a huge pin. He sang, after clearing his throat with a long drink of gin, as follows:
"TEDDY THE KINCHIN'S SONG."
I am a curious comical cove
Everybody does own O,
Hey ricketty Barlow, Cock-a-doodle-do!
I was born one day when father was out,
And mother she wasn't at home O,
Hey ricketty Barlow, &c.
I went to school and played the fool,
At learning was a shy man.
Hey ricketty Barlow, &c.
The boys they used to hollo out,
"There goes a Simple Simon!"
Hey ricketty Barlow, &c.
Oh lor! oh my! I'm a Simple Simon,
Oh lor! oh my! cock-a-doodle-do!
Where ere I go the folks they know,
And call me "Simple Simon;"
Hey ricketty Barlow, &c.
"Haltogether, please," said the Kinchin.
