MY brother Jack was nine in May, | |
| And I was eight on New-year’s-day; | |
| So in Kate Wilson’s shop | |
| Papa (he’s my papa and Jack’s) | |
| Bought me, last week, a doll of wax, | 5 |
| And brother Jack a top. | |
| |
| Jack’s in the pouts, and this it is,— | |
| He thinks mine came to more than his; | |
| So to my drawer he goes, | |
| Takes out the doll, and, O, my stars! | 10 |
| He pokes her head between the bars, | |
| And melts off half her nose! | |
| |
| Quite cross, a bit of string I beg, | |
| And tie it to his peg-top’s peg, | |
| And bang, with might and main, | 15 |
| Its head against the parlour-door: | |
| Off flies the head, and hits the floor, | |
| And breaks a window-pane. | |
| |
| This made him cry with rage and spite: | |
| Well, let him cry, it serves him right. | 20 |
| A pretty thing, forsooth! | |
| If he’s to melt, all scalding hot, | |
| Half my doll’s nose, and I am not | |
| To draw his peg-top’s tooth! | |
| |
| Aunt Hannah heard the window break, | 25 |
| And cried, “O naughty Nancy Lake, | |
| Thus to distress your aunt: | |
| No Drury-Lane for you to-day!” | |
| And while papa said, “Pooh, she may!” | |
| Mamma said, “No, she shan’t!” | 30 |
| |
| Well, after many a sad reproach, | |
| They got into a hackney coach, | |
| And trotted down the street, | |
| I saw them go: one horse was blind, | |
| The tails of both hung down behind, | 35 |
| Their shoes were on their feet. | |
| |
| The chaise in which poor brother Bill | |
| Used to be drawn to Pentonville, | |
| Stood in the lumber-room: | |
| I wiped the dust from off the top, | 40 |
| While Molly mopped it with a mop, | |
| And brushed it with a broom. | |
| |
| My uncle’s porter, Samuel Hughes, | |
| Came in at six to black the shoes, | |
| (I always talk to Sam:) | 45 |
| So what does he, but takes, and drags | |
| Me in the chaise along the flags, | |
| And leaves me where I am. | |
| |
| My father’s walls are make of brick, | |
| But not so tall and not so thick | 50 |
| As these, and, goodness me! | |
| My father’s beams are made of wood, | |
| But never, never half so good | |
| As those that now I see. | |
| |
| What a large floor! ’tis like a town! | 55 |
| The carpet, when they lay it down, | |
| Won’t hide it, I’ll be bound; | |
| And there’s a row of lamps!—my eye! | |
| How they do blaze! I wonder why | |
| They keep them on the ground. | 60 |
| |
| At first I caught hold of the wing, | |
| And kept away; but Mr. Thing- | |
| umbob, the prompter man, | |
| Gave with his hand my chaise a shove, | |
| And said, “Go on, my pretty love; | 65 |
| “Speak to ’em, little Nan. | |
| |
| “You’ve only got to curtsy, whisp- | |
| Er, hold your chin up, laugh and lisp, | |
| And then you’re sure to take: | |
| I’ve known the day when brats, not quite | 70 |
| Thirteen, got fifty pounds a night; | |
| Then why not Nancy Lake?” | |
| |
| But while I’m speaking, where’s papa? | |
| And where’s my aunt? and where’s mamma? | |
| Where’s Jack? O there they sit! | 75 |
| They smile, they nod; I’ll go my ways, | |
| And order round poor Billy’s chaise, | |
| To join them in the pit. | |
| |
| And now, good gentlefolks, I go | |
| To join mamma, and see the show; | 80 |
| So, bidding you adieu, | |
| I curtsy, like a pretty miss, | |
| And if you’ll blow to me a kiss, | |
| I’ll blow a kiss to you. [Blows a kiss, and exit. | |
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