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Vi'lits
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WUS pickin' gipsy vi'lits fer to try an' square Doreen.
We 'ad words... about pianners—fer she wants one awful keen—
'Igh words, about 'igh-toned idears—an', like a love-sick fool
'Ere I'm pickin' gipsy vi'lits when the kid come 'ome frum school.
'E started school a month ago, an' ain't got very far;
But, judgin' be the scraps 'e 'as, 'e's takin' after Par.
I tips there's somethin' wrong, the way 'e sneaks around the 'ouse.
An' then I seen 'is eye. Oh, strike! 'E 'ad a bonzer mouse!—
A reel black-eye, that, in me day, I would 'a' worn wiv pride.
But I'm a father now, an' sez, "'Ere, son, you git inside
An' show yer mother that there eye. 'Ow did it come about?"
Sez 'e, "A big bloke gimme that. I knocked the beggar out!"
