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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Well, I'll say no more,
But up with him there and slams at the door
With the end of his whip, and hurroose! hurroo!
Jemmy! James! Mr. Brew! Mr. Brew!
And Jemmy to put his head out of the windy,
And—Bless his sowl! and what was the shindy?
And—“Is Nessy at home?” says the Pazon then:
Nessy at home! “Why—Nessy ven!
Nessy! goodness grayshers! Pazon—
Nessy at home! a queer thing to be as'in';
D'ye think she's out agate o'the priddhars
As arly as this?” So the Pazon considhars
A bit, and—“Call her then,” he said,
“Call her.”—“Nessy, ger up urrov bed,
And spake to the Pazon—funny work!”
And shuts the windhar with a jerk.
But up with him there and slams at the door
With the end of his whip, and hurroose! hurroo!
Jemmy! James! Mr. Brew! Mr. Brew!
And Jemmy to put his head out of the windy,
And—Bless his sowl! and what was the shindy?
516
Nessy at home! “Why—Nessy ven!
Nessy! goodness grayshers! Pazon—
Nessy at home! a queer thing to be as'in';
D'ye think she's out agate o'the priddhars
As arly as this?” So the Pazon considhars
A bit, and—“Call her then,” he said,
“Call her.”—“Nessy, ger up urrov bed,
And spake to the Pazon—funny work!”
And shuts the windhar with a jerk.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |