Saying, is this not a sweating shop,
Then he holloa’d police, but it was no use,
For she flattened his nose with a ten pound goose,
Now they tell me the sleeveboards looked quite big,
And round old ———— they danced a jig,
Saying, we shall have a rest, so please the pigs
Thro’ the strike of the Journeymen Tailors.
Now let us hope we soon shall see,
The masters and the men agree,
For fair play is the style for me,