And presently, a big galoot

Drops down the chimbly flue,

And takin’ up Dave’s blucher boot,

Sez, “Lads! Here’s luck to you!”

But all the time it’s bilin’ hot,

And, spare me (crimson) days!

You never heerd such blanky rot

As what them fantods says.

[89]
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Well, comin’ on this last old year,

I sez to David B.,