Not! an’ a feller like you! Nor smoke? Eh? Well, that’s rum!
What’s the name o’ yer flower, I say! Gee-ray-nee-um.
That’s a comical name; and fern’s that bit o’ green,
Never know’d it before, though acres of ’em I’ve seen.
Where’d you get ’em? Grew ’em? Come, sell me one, I say!
Here’s half-a-dozen o’ dollars: I want to throw ’em away,
Hain’t got yer flowers clus by? Besides, you wouldn’t trade.
You’d gi’ me ’em if you had em. Well, yer a generous blade.
Too tarnal proper a chap by half for a Britisher.
But why wouldn’t you gi’ me that flower, you lyin’ sneak of a cur?