One day we was lappin’ round Joggles’s bar—
The Cunnel, an’ Joseph, an’ me—
When in totes Long Hiram from Potiphar,
An’ we arxed him to drink ’long o’ we;
He call’d for a “spider”—(his fav’rite drink),
An’ was liftin’ the glass to his lips;
But he dropp’d it smash on the floor in a wink,
When he saw Joseph haul out his chips.
Ses he: “Joe Swife, my gentle son,
You’ll have for to strike your flag,