Aside of a ditch wich I bloomin' near plumped in. "Hillo!" sez old Brock. "That was nearly a header!"
Tarblow Vivong! Not so very much vivong, though, seeing the lot was 'arf dead with the chatters.
"Well," sez old One-heye, "where are we, I wonder? Two guys—without bonfires! As mad as two 'atters
To try it so fur. 'Ave a nip! Ah! that's better. Don't grizzle! Neat brandy, like love and like ire, works
In warming one up. If we could draw attention. By Jove! 'Appy thought!! We will let off some fireworks!!!"
So said, and so done! Talk of pantermines! Scott! If you'd seen hus two shivering, wropt-up, grey ghostes.
Like two steaming bundles, a tumbling around, fixing rockets and catherine-wheels to damp postes,
And striking of splutt'ring fusees, you'd 'a' thought we was demons a doin' of Guy Fox's duties.
At last—whizz! Away went a couple of rockets a-rending the fog, reg'lar red-and-green beauties.
Don't talk of Der Fryshoots! We looked like a party of spooks celebrating the fifth in old bogland;