An Apt Pupil

Knockin' about (said Benny, the Tough) By the Rocks an' Woolloomooloo, Oh, I was a low-brow, right enough, And a bit of a bounder, too. Kickin' about with me larrikin band, I was always gittin' in bad; Till the kindly cops took me in hand, An', lissen, I've been glad. I was a tough when life begun, An' me ideels was not high Doin' the things that 'are not done,' Disgracin' me old school tie. Me feet was set on the downward road, A crook I was, an' a cad, Till the genteel cops taught me a Code An', lissen, I was glad. Doin' sich things as I never had ort, Soilin' the family name, With never a notion of good, clean sport Or the pride of playin' the game. The dirtiest fighter in all the Rocks, That's the sort of name I had, Till the manly cops taught me to box; An', lissen, I was glad. Playin' the game with a good straight bat, Scornin' the bottle an' boot; Turnin' meself from a wharfside rat To a reel nice-livin' coot. Learnin' to battle without 'arf-bricks Or with pickets, as once I had For the good cops taught me their rastlin' tricks An', lissen, I was glad. But flesh is weak; an' I fell from grace, An' I goes an' I drifts right back, An' burgled a bit of a jeweller's place; An' a cop gets on me track, But I meets his rush with a good straight right, An' I reckon he got reel mad To think that the cops taught me to fight. But, lissen, I was glad. Then a crowd of his pals come off their beats; But I takes to me heels an' clears, An' I leads 'em a marathon thro' the streets While they lumbers and puffs in the rear. Then I loses 'em all when I'd had me fun, An' I sprints like a race-course prad. For me cobbers the cops taught me to run, An', lissen, was I glad?