And now, my sweet boy, the Arc-tic doloreux
Plays with this old man the Old Harry.”
“Get out! Father William,” the young man cried,
“Come you shouldn’t go on in this way;
You are funny, but still you’ve a frightful bad cold—
Now tell me the reason I pray.”
“I am cold, then, dear youth,” Father William replied,
“I’ve a cold my impertinent son,
Because for some weeks my coals have been bought
At forty-eight shillings a ton!”