Maxioms by Richard Harris Barham
He was such a dear little cock-tailed pup.
He was such a dear little cock-tailed pup.
'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
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'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
I've ate and can't digest.
I was between
A man and a boy, A hobble-de-hoy,
A fat, little, punchy concern of sixteen.
I was between
A man and a boy, A hobble-de-hoy,
A fat, little, punchy concern of sixteen.
