I’m a Chickaleary bloke, &c.
The Thieves’ Chaunt.
There is a nook in the boozing ken,[126]
Where many a mud I fog,[127]
And the smoke curls gently, while cousin Ben
Keeps filling the pots again and again,
If the coves have stump’d their hog.[128]
The liquors around are diamond bright,
And the diddle[129] is best of all;