Chapter VI

Noo, Droggie had an awfu' stock, Tobacco, wreetin' paper, rock, A' kin' o' wersh tongue-twistin' drinks, A' kin' o' Oriental stinks, The best cod liver ile emulsions, Wee poothers that could cure convulsions, Famed Peter Puffer's soothin' syrup, An' stuff to gar canaries chirrup. He'd toothache tinctur's, cures for corns, Pomades to gar hair grow on horns, He'd stuff for healin' beelin' lugs, He'd stuff for suffocatin' bugs, He'd stuff for feshin' up your denners, Against your wull an' a' gude menners, A' kin' o' queer cahoochy goods To suit the system's varyin' moods, Wi' navvies' operatin' peels, Sookers for bairns an' fishin' reels, In fac'-but losh! I'd better stop, The mannie kep' a druggist's shop! An' in his bauchles an' his breeches Cam' grum'lin' doon to get the leeches While, nearly scunnert wi' their squirmin', Aff hirples Girsie wi' the vermin.