'Duck him at pump, we'll see who'll burn.'
A policeman clutched, a fireman clutched,
A dozen others snatched and touched.
'By God, he's stripped down to his buff.'
'By God, we'll make him warm enough.'
'After him.' 'Catch him,' 'Out him,' 'Scrob him.
'We'll give him hell.' 'By God, we'll mob him.'
'We'll duck him, scrout him, flog him, fratch him.
'All right,' I said. 'But first you'll catch him.'
The men who don't know to the root