When Frost'S All On Our Winder, An' The Snow'S All Out-O'-Doors, Our "Old-Kriss"-Milkman Goes A-Drivin' Round, Ist Purt'-Nigh Froze To Death, With His Old White Mustache Froze Full O' Breath. But When It's Summer An' All Warm Ag'In, He Comes A-Whistlin' An' A-Drivin In Our Alley, 'Thout No Coat On, Ner Ain'T Cold, Ner His Mustache Ain'T White, Ner He Ain'T Old.
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