But we went on the fly once agen—can't say 'ow it wos managed, but soon
We 'ad passed to a rum-looking region—the opposite side of the Moon,
Where no mortal afore had set foot, nor yet eyes, Miss DIANNER declared.
"Here's a Region of Sport!" sez the lady. Good Gracechurch Street, mate, 'ow I stared!
Seemed a sort of a blend-like of Hepsom, and Goodwood, and Altcar, mixed up
With the old Epping 'Unt and new Hurlingham, thoughts of the Waterloo Cup,
Swell Polo and Pigeon-match tumbled about in my mind, while the din
Was like Putney Reach piled on a Prizefight, with Kennington Oval chucked in.
There wos toffs, fair top new 'uns, mixed hup with the welcher, the froth with the scum;
There wos duchesses, proud as DIANNER, and she-things as sniffed of the slum;