Dear CHARLIE,—I've bin on the scoop, and no error this time, my dear boy!
I must tell yer my rounds; it's a barney I know you are bound to enjoy.
Talk of Zadkiel's Halmanack, CHARLIE, JOHN KEATS, or the Man in the Moon—
Yah! I've cut all their records as clean as a comet would lick a balloon.
'ARRY ain't no Astronomer, leastways I ain't never made it my mark
To go nap on star-gazing; I've mostly got other good biz arter dark.
But when Mister Punch give me the tip 'ow he'd take poor old TIME on the fly,
Wy I tumbled to it like a shot; 'ARRY's bound to be in it, sez I.
So I took on the Lockyers and Procters, and mugged up the planets and stars.
With their gods and their goddesses, likeways their thunderbolts, tridents and cars.