And threw her arms round little Ann
| While her Mama screamed out, “You’re not My Jane!”—and fainted on the spot. And her Papa desired to know Who was the master of the show? But he, as afterwards transpired, Had very modestly retired. Then everyone had much ado To bring Jane’s fainting mother to: At last she sat up with a start, And pressed her darling to her heart. “My Jane!” she cried, “my Jane!! my Jane!!!” And seemed inclined to faint again. |
Fainted on the spot
| When Jane regained her native hearth She had a very thorough bath: But tho’ she used all soaps then known, And soda too, and pumice-stone, She sadly saw she still had got More than one noticeable spot! And so poor Miss Jemima Jane Tho’ still more good, is still more plain. |
