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86
MR. CARLYLE'S CHIMNEY,
AND WHAT WOULD COME OF MEDDLING WITH IT.
'Oorah, neighbors! vot do yer say—
'Ere's a chimney afire across the vay!
It 'asn't been burnt this many a day—
And there can't be no manner of doubt
But the flues is choked vith soot and vith dirt—
Let's hall turn to, in veskit and shirt,
Vith 'and-pump and hengine, basin and squirt,
(Hanything as will swash or spirt)
And see if we can't put it hout!
'Ere's a chimney afire across the vay!
It 'asn't been burnt this many a day—
And there can't be no manner of doubt
But the flues is choked vith soot and vith dirt—
Let's hall turn to, in veskit and shirt,
Vith 'and-pump and hengine, basin and squirt,
(Hanything as will swash or spirt)
And see if we can't put it hout!
'Tis a heasy business, I'll be bail—
So form your line, vith bucket and pail,
We know vot we're about!
The folks of the 'ouse, 'ow they scold and curse,
“Keep hoff!—you'll honly make matters vorse!
It 'as got to burn itself hout!”
Never you mind!—let's come at the flue!
We're 'ere, and we're bound to put them through—
Bear an 'and vith the spout!
So form your line, vith bucket and pail,
We know vot we're about!
The folks of the 'ouse, 'ow they scold and curse,
“Keep hoff!—you'll honly make matters vorse!
It 'as got to burn itself hout!”
Never you mind!—let's come at the flue!
We're 'ere, and we're bound to put them through—
Bear an 'and vith the spout!
Varm vork, gen'lemen!—faith, I see
'Tis more of a job than we took it to be—
('Urry up, vith yer 'ose!!)
For the more we pumps, and the 'arder we pours,
The faster it burns, and the louder it roars,
And the 'otter and 'otter it grows!
'Tis more of a job than we took it to be—
87
For the more we pumps, and the 'arder we pours,
The faster it burns, and the louder it roars,
And the 'otter and 'otter it grows!
'Ow the swash drips back, like scalding tears,
And the burning soot comes about our hears,
And the flame 'owls 'igher and 'igher!
Look hout! the mantle is catching! (whew!
For vun, I begins to tire)—
'Ullo! by George, this never will do!
Ventre' bleu, mo'sieur! and me tink so too—
Ve sall 'ave ze 'ole str-r-r-eet avire!
And the burning soot comes about our hears,
And the flame 'owls 'igher and 'igher!
Look hout! the mantle is catching! (whew!
For vun, I begins to tire)—
'Ullo! by George, this never will do!
Ventre' bleu, mo'sieur! and me tink so too—
Ve sall 'ave ze 'ole str-r-r-eet avire!
And now, vot next? we can do no more—
Their hentries and stairvays is stamped vith mud,
Their rugs and carpets soaked in a flood—
But the 'orrible Flue keeps on to roar—
Vot a dreadful puddle lies on the floor!
By this blaze, you'd svear t'was blood!
Their hentries and stairvays is stamped vith mud,
Their rugs and carpets soaked in a flood—
But the 'orrible Flue keeps on to roar—
Vot a dreadful puddle lies on the floor!
By this blaze, you'd svear t'was blood!
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