'Twas the fifteenth anniversary of her twenty-second year, So he smiled at her as sweetly as a hog And asked what present she would like. And jesting… - Billy Bennett

There's a cockeyed yellow poodle to the north of Conga Pooch;
There's a little hot cross bun that's turning green;
There's a double-jointed woman doing tricks in Chu-Chin-Chow,
And you're a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

And you can't part a boy from his father,
You can't part a boy from his dad,
You can't part a Scotchman from money
No matter how many he's had.
You can't part the skin of a sausage
Or a dad from his fond son and heir,
And you can't part the hair on a bald-headed man
For there'll be no parting there.

Billy Bennett – I speak of the artist – was forthright, bawdy, and wholesome…[His] grossness had that gusto about it which is like a high wind blowing over a noisome place.