'Arrygate air!
Wich 'as done me most good I don't know, and I'm scorched if I
very much care!

I know 'Arrygate girls cop the biscuit for beauty. They've cheeks
like the rose,
Their skin is jest strorberries and cream; it's the sulphur, dear
boy, I suppose.
As for me, I look yaller as taller alongside 'em CHARLIE, wus luck!
I 'eard one call me saffron-faced sparrer, and jest as I thought
'er fair struck.

I'd nail 'em, in time, I've no doubt, when I once got the 'ang of
their style.
There's a gal at the Montpellier Baths. Scissoree! 'ow I've tried
for a smile,
When she tips me my tannersworth! Shucks! she's as orty and stiff
as yer please.
Primrose Dames isn't in it for snubs with these arrygant
'Arrygatese!

But I reckon my "Douche" is now due. Doctor BLACK's that
pertikler, old man.
These 'Arrygate doctors 'ave progrums--you've got to pan out to
their plan.
Up early, two swigs afore breakfust, and tubs when they tell yer's
the rule.
Well, the feller as flies to a Sawbones, and _don't_ toe the line
is a fool.