Or crack you up as the Coming Young Copt.
(Straighten up, boy! Such corkscrewing and craning, "Pet,"
Never a rib-roasting wunner in-popt.)
No, you 're a legacy! Would not deceive you, "Pet,"
You are a stick, and have cost a good bit.
Still we have charge of, and don't mean to leave you, "Pet,"
Till you are "fit."
Biceps? Ah, verily, feeling your muscle, "Pet,"
Isn't a job that brings SANDOW to mind.
Where would you be in a real hard tussle, "Pet"?