Wos dropped on that there ’oliday.”
“Now, tip us ’ow it come about,”
The other, drowsy, cries,
The while, the crownless chimney-pot
Upon his head he tries.
“Now, tip us: say, whose job it wor?
What did he smash the ’Scursion for?”
“Jim’s wor that job,” the pointsman said;
“He ’ad too long a bout!
But what he smashed the ’Scursion for