Which I suppose it’s a crusher standin’ sentry
Hover a cabstand,
Whereby if we gives e’er a word o’ cheek to
Parties as rides, they pulls us up like winkin’
And them there blessed beaks is down upon us
Dead as an ’ammer.
As for Mr. Toulmin Smith, can’t say as I knows him,
But as you talks so werry like a gem’man,
Perhaps you’re a goin’ in ’ansome style to stand a
Shillin’ a mile, sir.