INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 647
So I'm off with wallet and staff to eat The bread that is three parts chaff to wheat, But glory be! there's a laugh to it, Which isn't the case when we dine.
My father glooms and advises me, My brother sulks and despises me, And Mother catechises me Till I want to go out and swear. And, in spite of the butler's gravity, I know that the servants have it I Am a monster of moral depravity, And I'm damned if I think it's fair!
I wasted my substance, I know I did,
On riotous living, so I did,
But there's nothing on record to show I did
More than my betters have done.
They talk of the money I spent out there
They hint at the pace that I went out there
But they all forget I was sent out there
Alone as a rich man's son.
So I was a mark for plunder at once,
And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once,
But I didn't give up and knock under at once,
I worked in the Yards, for a spell,
Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs,
And shared their milk and maize with hogs,
Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs
And I have that knowledge to sell!
So back I go to my job again, Not so easy to rob again, Or quite so ready to sob again
On any neck that's around.