Oh, 'ell!
An' then we 'as a beano up at Mar's--
A slap-up feed, wiv wine an' two big geese.
Doreen sits next ter me, 'er eyes like stars.
O, 'ow I wished their blessed yap would cease!
The Parson-bloke 'e speaks a little piece,
That makes me blush an' 'ang me silly 'ead.
'E sez 'e 'opes our lovin' will increase--
I LIKES that pilot fer the things 'e said.
'E sez Doreen an' me is in a boat,
An' sailin' on the matrimonial sea.
'E sez as 'ow 'e 'opes we'll allus float
In peace an' joy, from storm an' danger free.
Then muvver gits to weepin' in 'er tea;
An' Auntie Liz sobs like a winded colt;
An' Cousin Lil comes 'round an' kisses me;
Until I feel I'll 'AVE to do a bolt.
Then Ginger gits end-up an' makes a speech--
('E'd 'ad a couple, but 'e wasn't shick.)
"My cobber 'ere," 'e sez, "'as copped a peach!
Of orl the barrer-load she is the pick!
I 'opes 'e won't fergit 'is pals too quick
As wus 'is frien's in olden days, becors,
I'm trustin', later on," sez Ginger Mick,
"To celebrate the chris'nin'."...'Oly wars!
At last Doreen an' me we gits away,
An' leaves 'em doin' nothin' to the scran.
(We're honey-moonin' down beside the Bay.)
I gives a 'arf a dollar to the man
Wot drives the cab; an' like two kids we ran
To ketch the train--Ah, strike! I could 'a' flown!
We gets the carridge right agen the van.
She whistles, jolts, an' starts.
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