"Pray, who's the little boy that is dancing so nimbly?
Come, Mary, bring a halfpenny down.—"
"Please, ma'am, I'm the feller as swept your chimbley,
And I'm very much obleeged for the brown.—"
"Alas! how his schooling has been neglected!
But perhaps his kind father's dead?—"
"No, ma'am; he's a tinker as is wery much respected
And this mornin' he's drunk in bed.—"
"Perchance 'tis a motherless child that they've fixed on
To dance. Does your mamma live still?—"