Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/99

She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be,
With her tempting smiles
And maidenly wiles,
And he was a trifle of seventy-three:
Now what she could see
Is a puzzle to me,
In a buffer of seventy—seventy-three!
 
Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad)
With their loud high jinks
And underbred winks
None thought they'd a family have—but they had;
A dear little lad
Who drove 'em half mad,
For he turned out a horribly fast little cad.

For when he was born he astonished all by,
With their "Law, dear me!"
"Did ever you see?"
He'd a weed in his mouth and a glass in his eye,
A hat all awry—
An octagon tie,
And a miniature—miniature glass in his eye.

He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap,
With his "Oh, dear, oh!"
And his "Hang it! you know!'