Onder, below there, look out for your corns, hawl your feet in, like turtles, for I am a comin'.

Take care o' your ribs, my old 'coons, for my elbows are crooked.

Who wants to grow?
I'll squeeze you out as a rollin'-pin does dough, and make you ten inches taller.

I'll make good figures of you, my fat boys and galls, I know.

Look out for scaldin's there.