I had, beside my blunt, my blowen, [4]
'So gay, so nutty and so knowing' [5]
On the wery best of grub we lived, [6]
And sixpence a quartern for gin I gived;
My toggs was the sportingst blunt could buy, [7]
And a slap-up out-and-outer was I.
Vith my mot on my arm, and my tile on my head, [8]
'That ere's a gemman' every von said.

III

A-coming avay from Wauxhall von night,
I cleared out a muzzy cove quite; [9]
He'd been a strutting avay like a king,
And on his digit he sported a ring,
A di'mond sparkler, flash and knowing,
Thinks I, I'll vatch the vay he's going,
And fleece my gemman neat and clever,
So, at least I'll try my best endeavour.

IV

A'ter, the singing and fire-vorks vas ended,
I follows my gemman the vay he tended;
In a dark corner I trips up his heels,
Then for his tattler and reader I feels, [10]
I pouches his blunt, and I draws his ring, [11]
Prigged his buckles and every thing,
And saying, "I thinks as you can't follow, man,"
I pikes me off to Ikey Soloman. [12]