If this here keeps on.”
It got monotonous, that song.
“Sandy Cass! A-alas!
A comin' home,
A bummin home--”
He liked to make poetry, Kid Sadler. You would not have expected it, to
look at his sloppy mustache, long dry throat, and big hands. The poetry
was generally accurate. Sandy did not see any good in it, unless it was
accurate.
“Little Irish is a Catholic, he come from I-er-land;
He ain't a whole cathedral, nor a new brass band;
He got religion in 'is joints from the hoonin of a shell,