The Urging of Uncle

No; I ain't got a talent for races.
   I ain't no frequenter of courses;
But I've lately been watchin' the paces
   Of some of these promisin' 'orses
Huh!  promise?  if 'orses 'ave uses,
   'Tain't bringin' no joy to the faces
Of uncles wot 'arks to abuses
   From nieces wot follers the races.
 
It's this 'ow.  A friend of my niece's
   Is friends with a friend wot rejoices
In knowin' a cove wot increases
   'Is wealth thro' 'is wise racin' choices.
So we gits the good oil.  But reverses
   Leaves me with three thruppeny pieces,
While riches pours into the purses
   Of friends of friends' friends of me nieces.
 
Now, I ain't a great reader of faces
   Nor wise to the wiles of the courses;
But when I gits out to the races
   I meets a nice feller wot forces
Acquaintance, an' w'ispers advices
   Concernin' dead certainties w'ich is
All startin' at much better rpices
   Than wot my niece tips.  So I switches.
 
Now, I ain't so much 'urt that our riches
   Is down to three thruppeny pieces
Because from sure winners I switches;
   It's them narsty remarks of my niece's.
'Ot anger within 'er it surges,
   She sez, at an uncle wot places
'Is faith in a feller wot urges ...
   No; I ain't got much talent for races.