I thought he’d bin hoverexertin’ hisself, and ’ud better be out of the bill,
But it wasn’t till yesterday hevenin I’d any ideer he was ill!
Then I see he was rough on the top of his ’ed, and his tongue looked dry at the tip,
And it dawned on me like a thunderbolt—“Great Evings!” I groaned,—“the Pip!” (Pause here, to emphasise the tremendous gravity of this discovery.)
Well, I ’ad bin trainin’ a siskin to hunderstudy the part, (more ordinary tone for this)
And I sent him on—(tolerantly)—which he done his best, but he ’adn’t no notion o’ Hart!
So I left the pitch as soon as I could, and (meanin’ to make more ’aste)
I cut across one o’ them buildin’ sites as was left a runnin’ to waste.
There was yawning pits by the flinty road, as rendered the prospeck dull,
And ’ere and there a winderless ’ouse, with the look of a grinning skull,