For patter's like love-letters, CHARLIE, too long and too frequent, they cloy.
I agree there with Samivel Veller. My echoes I've no wish to stop,
But I'd jest like to say 'tisn't me as is slopping' all over the shop.
It do give me the ditherums, CHARLIE, it makes me feel quite quisby snitch,
To see the fair rush for a feller as soon as he's found a good pitch.
Jest like anglers, old man, on the river; if one on 'em spots a prime swim,
And is landing 'em proper, you bet arf the others'll crowd about him.
But there's law for the rodsters, I'm told, CHARLIE; so many foot left and right;
And you'll see the punts spotted at distance, like squodrons of troops at a fight.
But in Trade, Art, and Littery lines, CHARLIE, 'anged if there's any fair play,