About not never missing a lift, or forgetting—dear sakes!—how to walk,
And the nice quiet streets and all that; why it's clear you ain't been a poor clerk
With a precious small "screw," in wet weather. Ah! you wouldn't find it no lark
With thin boots and a 'ard 'acking cough, and three mile every day to and thro',
Or a puffy old woman like me, out at Witsuntide wisiting JOE,
(My young son in the greengrocer line); or a governess, peaky and pale,
As has just overslep herself slightly, and can't git by cab or by rail.
"Ugly lumbering wehicles?" Ah! and we're ugly and lumbering too,
A lot of us poor Penny 'Bus fares, as isn't high-born or true-blue.
But the 'Bus is our help. Wery like some do ride as had far better walk,