Cabby off dooty's a clubable man. So--perfeck O K--says some pen-driving party.
Why, certainly genelmen! Wot do _you_ think? There is few things like 'orses to make fellows 'earty.
Your coachees, and carters, and costers, and such, not to name racing coves, are in general most chummy,
And if doing London on wheels every day didn't make Cabbies feel in one swim, 'twould be rummy.
A flick o' the lash or a crook o' the elber may be all we've time for when meetin' or passin',
But bless yer, we're all on the same job you see, and oarn't be _too_ pertikler in rankin' an' classin'.
Dirty pertaters, of course, do abound, but we don't shove on side if a chap's a bit decent,
And consequent clubs are a bit in our line, likeways free-and-easies. I've joined one quite recent.
Sing? Well, they do say I've a pipe like a blackbird, but that's tommy-rot, in a manner o' speakin',
Wish I could touch my JIM CROW'S mornin' flute o'er a mealy and turf with my tenorish squeaking.
Still, I'm in request when the 'armony's on, and I just do my level, along o' the others.
I tell you there's talent among us sometimes, though the chippers nickname us the HULLABOO BROTHERS.
One smart "little mash," from out Pimlico way, known as "BARNEY THE BARD," or "B. B." or "THE BUSTER,"
Can write 'is own songs. You should just 'ear 'im tip us "_A Tanner a Mile_," or "_The Broom and the Duster_."
CHEVALIER himself couldn't top 'im in patter. 'E's writ _me_ a song--me an' 'im being pally--
It's called "_Hansom Up!_" an' the first night I give it--with thanks to B. B.!--'twos a regular rally.
It took 'em all suddent, and knocked 'em, I tell yer. "Now JACK," sez the Chairman (Old BUNGO), hironic,
"That larst wos a gusher as made us feel sniffy; toon up sutthing lively, and give us a tonic!
Young SCRAG O' LAMB'S love-songs are like sweetened gin, JACK, they want a kerrective, a Scotch, or a Bitter."
"Right, BUNGO!" sez I, "I will give yer dry fizz 'stead o' pep'ment," as set 'im an' Vice on the titter.
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