He always wears a full-dress coat—pre-Adamite in cut—
With waistcoat of the loudest style, through which his ruffles jut.
Six breastpins deck his horrid front: and on his fingers shine
Whole invoices of diamond rings, which would hardly pass muster with the Original Jacobs in Chatham street, for jewels gen-u-ine—
This South Carolina gentleman,
One of the present time.
He chews tobacco by the pound, and spits upon the floor,
If there is not a box of sand behind the nearest door;
And when he takes his weekly spree, he clears a mighty track
Of everything that bears the shape of whisky-skin, gin-and-sugar, brandy-sour, peach-and-honey, irrepressible cocktail, rum-and-gum, and luscious apple-jack—