Swell’s Soliloquy

Anonymous

I DON’T appwove this hawid waw;

Those dweadful bannahs hawt my eyes;

And guns and dwums are such a baw,—

Why don’t the pawties compwamise?

Of cawce, the twoilet has its chawms;

But why must all the vulgah cwowd

Pawsist in spawting unifawms,

In cullahs so extwemely loud?

And then the ladies, pwecious deahs!—

I mawk the change on ev’wy bwow;

Bai Jove! I weally have my feahs

They wathah like the hawid wow!

To heah the chawming cweatures talk,

Like patwons of the bloody wing,

Of waw and all its dawty wawk,—

It doesn’t seem a pwappah thing!

I called at Mrs. Gweene’s last night,

To see her niece, Miss Mawy Hertz,

And found her making—cwushing sight!—

The weddest kind of flannel shirts!

Of cawce, I wose, and sought the daw,

With fawyah flashing from my eyes!

I can’t appwove this hawid waw;—

Why don’t the pawties compwamise?