Kicking their heels for full three hours and more.
John fumed and fretted—but ’twas all in vain;
Till tired to death, his Billet did obtain.
But such a filthy, loathsome, beastly Hut
Mud walls, Mud floor, besmear’d with Slime & Smut!
‘O L—d!’ says John, ‘pray how shall I contrive,
‘In this D——n’d hole, to keep myself alive?’
A half-starved Taylor, vamping up old breeches,
Cried, ‘Viva, Senhor!’ and pursu’d his stitches.
‘Viver!’ said John, ‘O G—d confound your “viver,”