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But Tommy came the very next day—
And if he didn' catch it—eh!
By gum! He'd make an impression,
The master said; and he gave him a threshin'
In the good old style, with your thwickumy-thwackumy!
Slishin'-slashin'! bick-o'-me-back-o'-me!
And, “Fowls!” he said. “What next?” he said—
“Ducks and geese!”—and, “Hould up your head!”—
Pigs and geese, as like as not!
Bulls of Bashan! You couldn' tell what!
The whole of the farm! “But, look ye here!”
He said—and he caught him a clip on the ear—
“You insolent vagabone!” he says,
“Who's goin' to see the end of this?”
Was it fowls!! Well, well! had it really come
To fowls!! Why, it abslit struck him dumb,
He said. Of coorse, he said, marbles he knew,
And even, now and then, an apple or two:
And liked his scholars to be cheerful;
But—fowls!!! he said—it was simply fearful!
No, he couldn', he couldn' pretend,
He really couldn', to say where would it end.
Abominable, he said, the habits
Of childher now-a-days!—the rabbits
And rubbish! he said; and “Fowls!” he said—“Fowls!!”
And he lifts his voice, and reglar howls.
And the lot of us poor little blokes
Takin' care to laugh at all his jokes.

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Oh! he said, it wasn' no use!
And down came the cane like the very deuce
By Jove! he laid into him like greens,
Till poor Tommy was all in smithereens—
Poor little chap! the way he was tanned!
But stood it grand! stood it grand!
 

Absolutely.