Over the wheat-fields, over the stiles,
Two-and-a-quarter of English miles.
Boots that cannot exclude the wet;
Clothes the thinnest that cash can get.
Far away, in the homely cot,
Stands my gingham—the best I've got.
Never so much as a Macintosh;
N ever a cape, or an odd galosh!
(Chord in the minor, FF.)