Your attention I claim, Captain Jinks is my name, and with your permission, I hold a commission, in Her Majesty’s famed horse marines.
I have lines here for your inspection, on the coming election, and I’ll try to amuse, that is if you choose, by relating a wonderful dream.
It was t’other night, I got rather tight, I had been to the Alhambra, to see the grand things there, and roll’d home at two in my glory.
And I dreamt a queer dream, though strange it may seem, that I heard a conversation, or a confabulation, between Gladstone and Dizzy, the Tory.
I had a dream the other night; and the same I’ll lay before ye,
A conversation on the coming election, between Gladstone and Dizzy, the Tory.
Said Gladstone, Dizzy my rum ’un, the time is a coming, though you think yourself clever, you will find so help my never, at the forthcoming general election,
That your goose will be cooked, and you must take your hook, for like a cow’s tail you will find, you will be all behind, when the people they make their selection.
Then said Dizzy it is plain, Gladstone, you want the reins, and between you and me, your Reform and cheap tea, you fancy will carry you straight, sir.