There was a young patrolman who
Had large but tender feet;
They always hurt him badly when
He walked upon his beat.
(He always took them with him when
He walked upon his beat.)
His name was Patrick Casey and
A sweetheart fair had he;
Her face was full of freckles—but
Her name was Kate McGee.
(It was in spite of freckles that
Her name was Kate McGee.)
“Oh, Pat!” she said, “I’ll wed you when
Promotion comes to you!”
“I’m much-obliged,” he answered, and
“I’ll see what I can do.”
(I may remark he said it thus—
“Oi’ll say phwat Oi kin do.”)
So then he bought some new shoes which
Allowed his feet more ease—
They may have been large twelves. Perhaps
Eighteens, or twenty-threes.
(That’s rather large for shoes, I think—
Eighteens or twenty-threes!)
What last they were I don’t know, but
Somehow it seems to me
I’ve heard somewhere they either were
A, B, C, D, or E.
(More likely they were five lasts wide—
A, B plus C, D, E.)
They were the stoutest cowhide that
Could be peeled off a cow.
But he was not promoted
Kate wed him anyhow.
(This world is crowded full of Kates
That wed them anyhow.)