tale agen,
How he prayed for the coves as killed him, and died for the worst of men.
It's a tale as I always liked, sir; and bound for the 'ternal shore,
I thinks it aloud to myself, sir, and I likes it more and more.

I've thumbed it out in the Bible, and I know it now by heart,
And it's put the steam in my boiler, and made me ready to start.
I ain't not afraid to die now; I've been a bit bad in my day,
But I know when I knock at them portals there's one as won't say me nay.
And it's thinkin' about that story, and all as he did for us,
As make me so fond o' my dawg, sir; especially now I'm wus;
For a-savin' o' folks who'd kill us is a beautiful act, the which
I never heard tell on o' no one, 'cept o' him and o' that there bitch.

'Twas five years ago come Chrismus, maybe you remember the row,
There was scares about hydryphoby--same as there be just now;
And the bobbies came down on us costers--came in a reggerlar wax,
And them as 'ud got no license was summerned to pay the tax.
But I had a friend among 'em, and he come in a friendly way,
And he sez, 'You must settle your dawg, Bill, unless you've a mind to pay.'
The missus was dyin' wi' fever--I'd made a mistake in my pitch,
I couldn't afford to keep her, so I sez, 'I'll drownd the bitch.'

I wasn't a-goin' to lose her, I warn't such a brute, you bet,
As to leave her to die by inches o' hunger, and cold, and wet;
I never said now't to the missus--we both on us liked her well--
But I takes her the follerin' Sunday down to the Grand Canell.
I gets her tight by the collar--the Lord forgive my sin!
And, kneelin' down on the towpath, I ducks the poor beast in.
She gave just a sudden whine like, then a look comes into her eyes
As 'ull last forever in mine, sir, up to the day I dies.

And a chill came over my heart then, and thinkin' I heard her moan,
I held her below the water, beating her skull with a stone.
You can see the mark of it now, sir--that place on the top of 'er 'ed--
And sudden she ceased to struggle, and I fancied as she was dead.
I shall never know how it happened, but goin' to lose my hold,
My knees slipped over the towpath, and into the stream I rolled;
Down like a log I went, sir, and my eyes were filled with mud,
And the water was tinged above me with a murdered creeter's blood.

I gave myself up for lost then, and I cursed in my wild despair,
And sudden I rose to the surfis, a