Picktereskness be jolly well jiggered, and as for good 'ealth, I've no doubt
That the treadmill is jolly salubrious, wich that is mere turning about,
Upon planks 'stead o' pedals, my pippin. No, wheeling as wheeling's 'ard work,
And that, without larks, is a speeches of game as I always did shirk.
I ain't one o' them skinny shanked saps, with a chest 'ollered out, and a 'ump,
Wot do records on roads for the 'onour, and faint or go slap off their chump.
You don't ketch me straining my 'eart till it cracks for a big silver mug.
No; 'ARRY takes heverythink heasy, and likes to feel cosy and snug.
Wy, I knowed a long lathy-limbed josser as felt up to champion form.
And busted hisself to beat records, and took all the Wheel-World by storm,