By gar! I tell-a you, t'ings don't stop
   Since da war he come wit' a rush,
When Nicko, da boss at da fry-fish shop,
   He sack-a Black Sam, da slush.
I tella you how Nick t'row Sam out
   An' say for to notta come back;
An' I tella how Sam play turn about
   An' launch-a da count' attack.

Well, t'ings dey move like da grease-a-da-light.
   Nick speak-a to four, five friend,
An' he say: "We make-a raid tonight
   An' bringa dis war for end."
So dey find-a where Sam an' his friends hang out,
   An' dey snap-a da fing' at da law
When dey make-a da plan for da midnight rout
   An' da dirty sock-a-da-jaw.

But Sammo he got da spy in da camp,
   An' he catch-a da hint what drp,
So he spill-a da tale of Nicka da scamp
   In da ear of da corner-a cop.
Den da cop meet Nick an' his friends dat night
   An' make t'rcat for the runnin' dem in
But Nick say: "Call-a you'seluf da white
   For proteck black Abb-da-sin?"

Say da cop: "Datta be about all from you.
   More bettra you buzz off, lad,
Or you cool-a da heel, an' you cobber, too."
   Den Nicko he wile like-a mad.
An' he say: "Do dey smash-a my shop, by gar,
   An' I catch-a no compensaish'?
Santa da Luce!  What you t'inkin' you are --
   Da bloom-a League-a-da-Naish?"

Den Nick get wile, an' his frien's get wile,
   An' da cop get wile like 'ell;
An' da lingua dey use, so you hear for a mile,
   It not-a for me to tell,
But da cop he cool off by by an'-a by,
   An' he say: "Cut-a out da swank!
You make-a da peace, or me, I apply
   Da eco-da-nomic sanc'."

"Now I tells da boys (da cop he say)
   From da ironwork out-a da back,
An' da girls from da jam-fac' over da way
   To declare-a you' fry-fish black!
What-a you do den, Mista Musso-da-lin?
   Datta food for t'ink, ole quince."
But Nicko, he grinnin' da sickly grin;
   An' he t'ink hard ever-a since.

"Den"
Herald, 21 October 1935, p6