The wictims waltz round, looking white, wishing someone would just spill their wet,
And—there's 'ardly a glass "returned empty" but wot shows its 'eel-taps, you bet!
This is "Taking the Waters" at 'Arrygate! Well, I shall soon take my 'ook.
Speshal Scotch, at my favourite pub, from that sparkling young dona, NELL COOK,
Will do me a treat arter this, mate, and come most pertikler A 1.
'Ow I long to be back in "The Village," dear boy, with its bustle and fun!
Still, the air 'ere's as fresh as they make it, and gives yer a doose of a peck,
And DUNSING, the Boss at "The Crown," does yer proper. I came 'ere a wreck;
But sulphur, sound sleep, and cool breezes, prime prog, and good company tells;
So 'ere's bully for 'Arrygate, CHARLIE, in spite of rum baths and bad smells.