Refrain

“Just look after my gal, will ye? While I’m frontin’ the fire an’ the foe-- Like a good old pal, look after my gal-- An’ Gawd bless ye wheerever I go!”

“That will do as a beginning!” said Mrs. Arteroyd, nibbling anxiously at the pencil with which she had “produced” these lines. “It suggests love and a spice of immorality. His ‘gal’--one of the silly creatures who walk out with him, not ‘on the strength,’ of course. It’s a change, and it’s sure to go down! Not his wife,--and not his baby--ugh! you little wretch! (this was a side apostrophe to the absent and unconscious Marquise Dégagée)--but his ‘gal’! Old Dummer-Esel will appreciate that!”

She bit her pencil again and thought,--then glanced over a few more music-hall songs, and went on--

“She’s a weak an’ a lovin’ creetur! Not ‘on the strength,’ you bet! An’ ’tis ’ard to be leavin’ her lonely, Though I hopes we’ll be married yet,-- But there’s death lurkin’ down in they kopjes, And graves in the golden Transvaal-- Never mind!--it’s for king and country-- But--just look after my gal!