To do vot's right is still my plan,
And better vip ne'er drove ye.
To doubt my honour, what man dare?
I'd floor him for his trouble—
Tho' ven I gets a drunken FARE,
'Tis FAIR to charge him double.
Then, as to galloping my prads,
Paddington ne'er surpass'd me—
Tho' they're a set of knowing lads,
Right as a trivet, blaust me!