With bayonet so able;
“I’ll tuck you up, I’ll warm your bed,
“And when warm in your places,”
Said Nell, “I’ll scorch your nasty scuts,
“Throw p—s in both your faces.”
The laundress swore she’d mangle ’em,
The dairy-maid would skim ’em,
The bar-maid vow’d she’d squeeze ’em too,
The ostler swore he’d trim ’em;
The post-boy was for whipping them,