a 'ome from which yer
shrink,
Can you wonder that poor Slum-birds is give o'er to Dirt and Drink.

Ah! them two D's goes together. Just you plant some orty Queen
In a rookery, in her kidhood, and then tell her to keep _clean_,
Wash 'er face, and mend 'er garments,--wich they're mostly
sewed-up rags,--
In six months she'd be a scare-crow, 'ands like sut, and 'air all
jags.

Wot yer washups don't quite tumble to's the fack as like breeds
like.
If you would himprove Slum-dwellers, at the Slum you fust must
strike.
Give us small dark 'oles to dwell in, and you must be jolly green
If you think folks bred in dirt like, are a-going to keep 'em clean.

When the sewer-rats take to sweetening and lime-washing _their_
foul 'oles,
And bright light and disinfectants are the fads of skunks and moles,
Then poor souls in cellar-dwellings and in jerry-builders' dens,
Will be smart as young canaries and as clean as clucking hens.

NOCKY SPRIGGINGS guyed me proper, in his chuckly sorter style,
With his thumb 'ooked orful hartful, and his chickaleary smile.
"JIM," sez he, "wot price _your_ jabber? Do yer think the blooming
blokes
Cares a cuss for me and you, JIM, any more than for our mokes?

"Shut yer face, you pattering josser! Dirt and Drink is good for
Rents!
If the Poor _wos_ clean and sober, where 'ud be their
cent-per-cents?
If it's Public 'Ouse 'gainst Wash 'Ouse, if it's Slumland _wersus_
Swipes,
_I_ am on for booze and backy 'stead o' drains and water-pipes.

"You may be _too_ jolly clean, JIM, and a precious sight _too_
light,
Were's the good to scrub yer skin orf! And if when a cove gits
tight,
Or would give his donah wot-for on the Q.T. _wot_ a lark
If there weren't no 'andy alleys, nor no corners snug and _dark_.

"If the Public--_and_ the Slops--wos always fly to wot _we_ done,
'Long o' widened streets and gas-light, wy we'd 'ave no blooming
fun.
Lagged for larrupping yer missus, nailed for boozing till yer nod?
Wy, you jabbering young Juggins, _we should always be in quod!_"

'Ard nut is NOCKY SPRIGGINGS--of the sort as make the slums,
'Cos there ain't much chance for cleanness, or for comfort, when
_he_ comes.
He's as 'appy in the dirt, gents, as a blowfly or a 'og;
Or poor Paddy in his tater-patch alo