And the chap that was in it
He sang like a linnet,
With a nate kag of whisky beside him to broach.
And he tipped now and then
Just a matter o' ten
Or twelve tumblers o' punch to his bold sarving-men.
III
They were dress'd in green livery,
But seem'd rather shivery,
For 't was only a trifle o' leaves that they wore;