Of the trombone a trace
Of the blackguard who blows it near
Me in Town, at most times of year!
And I mark, too, the face
Of that beastly big-bass—
(Which has also been reared on beer)—
And I know, too, the face
Of that other disgrace,
The fat cornet! They've come down here—
They've been borrowed, and lent new gear!