II
Whilst abusing the villain,
Came riding postilion
A nate little boy on the back of a baste,
Big enough, faith, to ate him,
But he lather'd and bate him,
And the baste to unsate him ne'er struggled the laste,
And an iligant car
He was dhrawing—by gar!
It was finer by far than a Lord Mayor's state coach,