And so it is, CHARLIE, old hoyster. The music is twangly, I own,
And if I've a fancy myself, 'taint hexactly the Great Xylophone;
But the speeches of musical scratch-backs the dancers keep time with so pat,
In that fairy-like Carnival Bally, fetched POLLY, ah, all round 'er 'at!
That 'at wos a spanker, I tell yer; as big as the Doge's State-Barge,
And like all the "Four Seasons" in one! "Well," sez POLLY, "I do like 'em large,
Them Venetian pork-pies ain't my fancy, no room for no trimmings above.
They wouldn't suit Barnsbury Park, though they might do 'The Castle of Love'!"
Sort o' needled her somehow, I fancy; but, bless yer, I soon put that straight.
Gals is wonderful touchy on togs! Covent Garden piled high on a plate