[Vell, I never vos out in sech a frost in my life: I can't keep my legs the least bit as ever vos. Slippery times these is, to be sure. Hold the lantern up, vill you, Bill?]
When first a wild
And "poor lost child,"
Seduced by Punch's laughter,
You stray in tears about the streets,
Don't I go crying after?
[Vill you 'old the lantern stiddy, Bill; and not keep vhirling it about in that vay. Vot lots o' rewolving lights there is in this part of the city, to be sure!]
In after-life,
When vixen wife
Goes running o'er the town;