The bell goes a ringing for Sa-i-rah

From  The Velocipede Belle Songster (1968)

 If you please, you see I’m a domestic,
Or what some would call “servant gal;”
My missis she calls me Sai-rah,
But father for short calls me “ Sal;”
I’m general slave round the corner,
My wages is small, you'll agree;
I’m slaving from morning till midnight,
And I finds my own sugar and tea,

Spoken: And if I only sits down a minute to take breath —

The bell goes ‘a-ringing for Sai-rah, Sai-rah, Sai-rah,
The bell goes a-ringing for Sai-rah,
From morning until night.

My master’s a clerk in the city,
At six hundred fifty a year:
They comes out like a dook and a duchess,
How they does it to some’s not quite clear ;
They give parties and hold up their heads,
As though they was the first of thé land:
Sometimes I’ve to wait for my wages,
Whilst they get a-doing the grand.

Spoken: But people as do the grand very often, “do” somebody else at the same time; the butcher's asked for his bill for the last six months, and if she hears me a-talking to him, oh! you should hear — (CHORUS)

My missis talks of her connections,
Says her grandfather’s pa was a judge;
Lady Muff and Lord Puff are her cousins,
But ’tween us and the bed-post, it’s “fudge;” 
She says her blood’s “haristocratic,”
(About that I can’t speak, to be sure,)
But folks for their money come knocking,
And vow they won’t come any more.

Spoken: Yes, first I've to go to the door, then I've to go up four pair to make the beds, and, of course, just as I’m in the middle of ’em — (CHORUS)

There’s but one day I’ve five minutes quiet,
That’s Sundays,. for then, when I can,
I goes out after tea for an hour,
And ’scorted by my young man;
You must know, if you please, he’s a sojer,
And he vows he’s entirely mine;
I often wish there was four Sundays a week,
For I has to be in by nine.

Spoken; Yes, and if I don’t show myself as the clock strikes, oh — (CHORUS)

I'm lady’s maid, housemaid and cook,
I do every thing — honor, no joking,
I scarcely. have time to draw breath,
For she'll ring if the fire wants poking;
With a book out of lib’ry she’ll loll
On the couch, in an indolent manner,
Or else for a change she'll sit down,
And thump away on the pianner.

Spoken: Yes, we've got a pianner, ’tisn’t paid for; but I must
be off, for if she fancies I'm here, a-talking to you —
(CHORUS)