“They do need tender Handling, boys,” young Nathanael McClean tries sternly to advise the five-shilling Hands. “Like your Mother’s Pussy,” is the reply. “My Mother?” counters the young Swamper equably, “Say,— Just saw your Mother, going out, to shoot, Somebody stepp’d on her Infantry Boots,— ” “Aye? Well,— I saw your Mother, and I Quiz you not,— Drinking penny-Gin from a Chamber-Pot.” “Ladies, please, there are Gentlemen present,” announces Overseer of the Axmen Moses Barnes
