HOW HERMAN WON THE CROSS

ONCE in a blue eternity they gave us dabs of rum To close the seams‘ n’ keep the flume in liquor-tight condition; But, soft‘ n’ sentimental, when the long, cold evenin's come, I'd dream me nibs was dronking’ to the height of his ambition, With rights of suction over all the breweries there are, Where barrels squat, like Brahma gods, in Mother Hardy's bar.