I was standin' by the winder.  Listen 'ere,
   Aw, yer talk about a man's dead rotten luck.
I was close beside the winder.  Ain't it queer.
   'Ow a fellers' best-laid plans come all unstuck?
Right bang again the winder.  Aw, to think
   The way that I've been talkin' day and night,
An' then -- aw, it would drive a man to drink
   The way some women won't see nothing right.
 
She says she's 'eard that story quite a lot.
   I was standin' by the winder, that I swear;
An' then a man's own wife says "tommyrot"
   An' asks him for money, then and there.
I know 'twas 'er two quid.  I don't dispute
   A thing like that; but I was close beside
That winder.  But she calls a man a brute
   Because she's got it in 'er 'ead I lied.
 
I keep on tellin' 'er.  But what's the use?
   Right up again the winder with me 'and
Arf out.  An' now I got to hear abuse
   That's worse than any decent man can stand
Right at the winder, and all set to place
   "Two quid Gaine Carrington."  And then they rang
The startin' bell, and flop fair in me face
   The dairn tote winder shut down with a bang.
An' now she says she wants her two quid back.
   Gosh! ain't that like a woman; got no tack?

"Den"
Herald, 23 October 1933, p6