The mo-ment Wil-lie saw her, he back-ed down the steps, for she was an o-gress, and as ug-ly as o-gress-es ge-ne-ral-ly are.

Dat be jes' a devil-ment o' mine.

Anne and Jane will long re-mem-her How, one morn-ing in No-vem-ber, As they both were home-ward stroll-ing, Round the Lon-don fog came roll-ing First, a yel-low dark-ness fall-ing, Then a noise of link-boys call-ing, Cab, and 'bus, and cart-wheels rum-bling, Hor-ses on the pave-ment stum-bling, Peo-ple, in the smoke and smo-ther, Run-ning up a-gainst each other, No one see-ing, much less know-ing, Whi-ther he or she was go-ing.