That bullet head! those ears! it is——Jack Parker!
[Chord. The Chorus flee in dismay, as Jack enters with a reckless swagger.
Song—Jack Parker.
I'm loafing about, and I very much doubt if my excellent Ma is aware that I'm out;
My time I employ in attempts to annoy, and I'm not what you'd call an agreeable boy!
I shoe the cats with walnut-shells;
Tin cans to curs I tie;
Ring furious knells at front-door bells—
Then round the corner fly!
'Neath donkeys' tails I fasten furze,