Commodgeous, with plenty of light,
And fit, ye know, fur entertainin’
Sech fri’nds as I’m like to invite?
And nixt, are yous regular at male-times?
Because ’taint convainyent, ye see,
To wait, and if I behaves punkshul,
It’s no more than yous ought to be.
And thin is your gurrels good-natured?
The rayson I lift my last place,
The French nuss was sich a high lady,