'E calls me,—yus, me,—"the cad-cockney well known to the 'Eath and the 'Arp."
Well, that's a fair challenge, old man, and I mean being on to 'im—sharp!
I'll take 'im—with 'is aitches chucked in—with one 'and whensomever 'e likes;
And "Cads" do the road in smart dog-carts as well as afoot or on bikes.
"'Arry the Cad!" Great Jemimer! Jest fancy our Harry's disgust
At the thought of their knocking 'is aitch out! 'E's fair on the bile and the bust.
Way oh, Harry! Do keep yer 'air on, old pal, if you've got any thatch,—
For it's wonderful 'ow these swell Harries go in for the shiny pink patch!
It's their brines working through—or their bumptiousness. I've got no hend of a crop,
As looks, when I've 'ad a close clip, like a fuzz-bush a sprouting up top;