You’ll begin to kal’late;

S’pose the crows wun’t fall to pickin’

All the carkiss from your bones,

Coz you helped to give a lickin’

To them poor half-Spanish drones?

Jest go home an’ ask our Nancy

Wether I’d be sech a goose

Ez to jine ye—guess you’d fancy

The etarnal bung wuz loose!

She wants me fer home consumption,