There isn't a scorchinger Scorcher than
'Arry, when fair on the spin.
Some might do me for pace, but for style,
and for skylark, I'd jest about win.
Lil Johnson—you know little Lil with the
copper-wire fringe and rum lisp!
'Er as flower-mounts Clerkenwell way, an'
wos donah to young Iky Crisp!
She's blue sancho on learnin' to "bike," so I
took 'er to Battersea Park,