I've chattered through the heather,
I've doused and soused the Rads with praise,
To keep myself together.
I chatter, chatter, my words flow
As fast as any river;
Tho' some men's language may be slow,
I can talk on for ever.
I wind about, and in and out,
I bolster up each failing;
But though I wheedle, brag, and shout,