But I safely say you displayed the most cheek
Of any I've met by sea or land.
When you pitched me clean out on the Nevski pavement,
With syllable brief I loudly banned;
But as dam in your lingo "I'll give" (you knave!) meant,
You grinned, and for "tea-money" held your hand.
I shall never forget that awful jolting
I got as you whirled me round about
In your backless car; for your bumping, bolting,
You really, my Vanka, deserved the knout.