The things what's‘ appened lately calls to
Jumbo's mind that day
Our push took on the Peewee pack,‘ n’ belted out their lard,
With twenty cops to top it off. But now I'm stowed away,
A bullet in me gizzard where I took it good and hard,
A-dealin’ - stoush‘ n’ mullock to the Prussian flamin’ Guard.
At Bullcoor mortal charnce had dumped a mutton-truck of us
From good ole Port ker-flummox where we did n't orter be,
All in a‘ elpless hole-the Pug, Bill Carkeek, Son,‘ n’ Gus,
Don, Steve,‘ n’ Jack,‘ n’ seven more,‘ n’, as it‘ appens, me,
With nothin’ in since breakfast,‘ n’ a week to go for tea.