"I talks about the wondrous Boshter Bird
That builds 'er nest up in the Cobber Tree,
An' 'atches out 'er young on May the third,
Stric' to the minute, jist at 'arf pas' three.
'Er eyes get big. She sez, 'Can it be true?'
'Er eyes was blue.
"An' then I speaks uv sport, an' tells 'er 'ow
In 'untin' our wild Wowsers we imploy
Large packs uv Barrackers, an' 'ow their row
Wakes echoes in the forests uv Fitzroy,
Where lurks the deadly Shicker Snake 'oo's breath
Is certain death.
"I'm goin' on to talk uv kangaroos,
An' 'ow I used to drive 'em four-in-'and.
'Wot?' sez the Marchioness. 'Them things in Zoos
That 'ops about? I've seen 'em in the Strand
In double 'arness; but I ain't seen four.
Tell me some more.'
"I baulks a bit at that; an' she sez, 'Well,
There ain't no cause at all for you to feel
Modest about the things you 'ave to tell;
An' wot yeh say sounds wonderfully reel.
Your talk'—an' 'ere I seen 'er eyelids flick—
'Makes me 'omesick.
