A LOVER’S QUARREL.
BY AUSTIN DOBSON.
NELLIE.
If I were you, when ladies at the play, sir,
Beckon and nod, a melodrama through,
I would not turn abstractedly away, sir,
If I were you!
FRANK.
If I were you, when persons I affected,
Wait for three hours to take me down to Kew,
I would, at least, pretend I recollected,
If I were you!
NELLIE.
If I were you, when ladies are so lavish,
Sir, as to keep me every waltz but two,
I would not dance with odious Miss McTavish,
If I were you!
FRANK.
If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer
Whiff of the best—the mildest “honey-dew,”
I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer,
If I were you!