And we are the boys for boning.”
Three convicts, connected with iron bands,
In the saddest plights of the “jug” went down,
And the peelers are grinning and rubbing their hands
At the coves who will never more cadge on the town.
“Now then ve must vork with our hands and our feet,
Sich a gitting up-stairs—oh, ain’t it a treat,
Besides we are barred from boning.”
From The Free Lance, Manchester.