As ain't fit for 'ogs, but is kep' for them Sweaters' pale wictims—pore soles?
Me see that the dust-pails is emptied, and underground bedrooms made sweet?
Me nail the Court Notices hup upon Butchers as deals in bad meat?
Great Scissors, it's somethink houtrageous. I knew Ritchie's Act meant 'ard lines,
And it's wus than I could 'ave emagined. But wot I funk most is them FINES!!!
Fine Me—if I make a mistake, as, perhaps, even BUMBLE may do!
That is turning the tables a twister! More powers? Ah, well, that might do,
But increase my great "Responsibilities," give them Ratepayers a chance
Of a calling me hover the coals! Won't this make my hold henemies dance?
I never did like that HYGEIA, a pompous and nose-poking minx—