A cup o' teah an' a walk to th' railway station whear we gat a gooid wesh for a penny, freshened us up a bit an' we prepared to spend th' furst neet i' Payris th' same as mooast fowk do; that is, we started aght i' hoaps at we should see summat at we should condemn after we'd seen it, an' deplore th' existence ov th' varry things at form th' principal attraction for nine aght o' ivvery ten at pay a visit to th' finest city ith' world, whear gaiety flooats ovver th' surface o' ivverything an' th' cankerin sorrow is busy deep ith' heart.
A sorrowing heart ne'er seems as sad
As when'midst gaiety;
You see beneath the flimsy veil,
Its writhing misery.
The apple with the golden rind,
The greedy eye gloats o'er,
But then, alas,'tis sad to find
Dry ashes at its core.
The smiling face, the beaming eye.