If all the ones that’s beautiful when they
Get on their riggin’ and are fixed up gay
Ain’t much but framework when they’ve gone at night
And safely locked themselves in out of sight
And laid what ain’t growed on to them away.
When me and Mike, the porter, were alone
I got to tellin’ him about my thoughts—
Mike’s had two wives, and so, of course, knows lots.
He told me in a kind of sollum tone:
“Me boy, a woman cr-rathure’s like a shtone—