Proffered her a guinea-piece

When Ann’s Papa returned, one day, And came to fetch his child away, Mama was grieved to lose her niece, And proffered her a guinea-piece, Saying: “You must stay longer, when You come to visit me again.” Now all this time, poor Jane, we know, Was made a laughing-stock and show. They told her, did she dare explain That she was only little Jane, And not a spotted girl at all, They’d beat her till she couldn’t crawl. She had to wait on all the rest, And had to do her very best; So that, she sometimes quite forgot Whether her back was straight or not! And even, so the story goes, Sometimes forgot to point her toes!

She had to wait on all the rest

Jane found the children in the van Were infinitely worse than Ann; They punched her head and tore her hair, And pinched and nipped her everywhere, And when she said, “A little child Ought to be tractable and mild!” They only made an ugly face, And pinched her in another place. After a time this seemed to teach Jane it was better not to preach: And even now and then, she would Forget that she was very good. She wished it had not been her plan Always to tell Mama of Ann. After two months had passed away, She even might be heard to say That she had been a spiteful cat To treat her Cousin Ann like that!

Gravely passed from tent to tent

Now Jane’s good parents went to stay With Ann’s Papa one autumn day; And while they both were staying there, The people held a kind of fair. “Pray, brother,” Jane’s Mama began, “Do let me take your little Ann; For she would like to see the show.” And he replied, “We all might go.” And so that afternoon they went, And gravely passed from tent to tent; And finally, the party stept Into the tent where freaks where kept. “Look at that child,” said one, “I’m sure Her spots are paint and nothing more.” Cried Ann: “I do not care a fig For looking at that spotted pig!” But at her voice, Jane shrieked and ran, And threw her arms round little Ann. “Save me! oh, save me!” she did plead; “I’m not a spotted pig, indeed!”