Jeffrey the Jackal seemed one of those chaps

Who could settle to nothing, just pick up scraps

Of employment that lasted for hours or a day

A bit here and there and then he'd away

As the pub and the betting shop led him astray.

"A proper old scrounger," you'd hear housewives say

Until their lavvies were blocked and their husbands away.

Or their fuses went phut or a banister broke

That was the moment they'd send for a bloke

Who could fix all that stuff with a grin and a joke.

And with none of the bluster an 'expert' parades -

Jeffrey, you see, was a jackal of all trades.