Coopid up’s vith his bow and lets fly a arrer.
‘O dear!’ cries this dawg’s-meat man,
Fingerin’ his buzzum and looking vith his eye;
‘Vot can this be a-sticking in my tan?’
Ven Sairey draws near a-lookin’ very shy.
‘Tell me,’ sez he, ‘the name o’ this here thing?’
‘Vy,’ sez Sairey vinkin’, ‘it’s vun o’ Coopid’s darts.’”
etc. etc.
This song gave such exquisite satisfaction to the company that, on his concluding it, he was entreated, amid cheers, to sing another; on which, squaring his breast, but preserving his wooden face of fat astonishment, he began as follows:
“There vos a ’ot pieman as vurked in the Strand,