Now, may I never wish to work for Hoby,
If drain I’ve had!” (the lying s-n-o-b!)
I’ve just return’d from a tee-total party,
Twelve on us jamm’d in a spring c-a-r-t.
The man as lectured, now, was drunk; why, bless ye,
He’s sent home in a c-h-a-i-s-e.
He’d taken so much lush into his belly,
I’m blest if he could t-o-dd-l-e.
A pair on ’em—hisself and his good lady;—
The gin had got into her h-e-a-d.