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;
Speak to ‘em, little Nan.

 

“You've only got to courtesy, 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

Thirteen got fifty pounds a night—
Then why not Nancy Lake?”

18