Ankle-deep in the watery sludge, where the tile is loose or the drainage blocked!
Oh, I haven't a doubt that the dainty dames—if they only knew!—would be sorely shocked.
Typhoid! Terribly menacing word, the whisper of which would destroy our trade;
But dirt, and damp, and defective drainage will raise that ghost on a world afraid;
And at thirty years our strength is sapped by insidious siege of the stifling fume,
Or what if we linger a little longer? Scant rays of comfort such life illume.
Grievances, BET? Well, I make no doubt that the world of idlers is sorely sick
Of the moans and groans of the likes of us. When the whip, the needle, the spade, the pick,
Are all on strike for a higher wage, 'tis a worry, of course, to the well-to-do,
And a sleek Home-Sec, must "decline to pledge" support official to me and you.