They sweated their duds till they riz it;
* Beggars of those days were required by the law to wear red petticoats.
For Larry was always the lad,
When a friend was condemned to the squeezer,
But he'd fence all the togs that he had
Just to help the poor boy to a sneezer,
And moisten his gob 'fore he died.
"'Pon my conscience, dear Larry," says I,
"I'm sorry to see you in trouble,
Your life's cheerful noggin run dry,