a'rf the sport!

'Twas a bit of a bother to learn, and I wobbled tremenjus at fust,
Ah! it give me what-for in my jints, and no end of a thundering
thust;
I felt jest like a snake with skyattica doubling about on the loose,
As 'elpless as 'ot calf's-foot jelly, old man, and about as much
use.

Now I _don't_ like to look like a juggins, it's wot I carn't
stand, s'elp my bob;
But you know I ain't heasy choked off, dear old pal, when I'm fair
on the job.
So I spotted a quiet back naybrood, triangle of grass and tall
trees,
Good roads, and no bobbies, or carts. Oh, I tell yer 'twas "go as
yer please."

They call it a "Park," and it's pooty, and quiet as Solsberry Plain,
Or a hold City church on a Sunday, old man, when it's welting with
rain;
Old maids, retired gents, sickly jossers, and studyus old stodges
live there,
And they didn't like me and my squeaker a mossel; but wot did _I_
care.

When they wentured a mild remonstration, I chucked 'em a smart bit
o' lip,
With a big D or two--for the ladies--and wosn't they soon on the
skip!