Now the bar was in a kerfuffle
When out of the smoke-misted depths
Miss Molly Bloom crossed over the room
And lifted him down without using steps

Then she sat the lad on the counter top
And gave his ears a square bashing
With tales of things unknown to young Tel
For three hours, or more, without hushing.

But by now little Tel had had quite enough
And rushed straight off to Dunlaoghaire
To spend a long life at the BBC
Making we TOGs’ mornings so cheery.

Ma and Pa, back in the bar
Were having a case of head staggers
And to Molly Bloom at the end of the room
Were giving a look of pure daggers.

The Peelers had to be sent for;
A guard came resplendent and tall
Ma said "Yon woman’s banished Terry,
And him with no clean pants at all!"

Father said "Right's right, young feller-
I think it's a shame and a sin

  To have our son sent off to England
And after we paid for our gin."

But Assumpta wanted no trouble;
She opened the till right away,
Saying "How much will settle the matter?"
Pa said "What do you usually pay?"

But Mrs Togmeister turned awkward
When she saw where her Tel-boy had gone.
She said, "No, someone's got to be summonsed!"
So that was decided upon.

And off they all went to police barracks
In front of a Magistrate chap;
They told what had happened to Terry
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame,
And said that he hoped the Togmeisters
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper shirty:
"And thank you, sir, kindly," said she-
"Wot, spend all our lives raising children
To be snaffled, by Auntie? Not me!"

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