“My sister’ll be down in a minute, and says you’re to wait, if you please;
And says I might stay till she came, if I’d promise her never to tease,
Nor speak till you spoke to me first. But that’s nonsense; for how would you know
What she told me to say, if I didn’t? Don’t you really and truly think so?
“And then you’d feel strange here alone. And you wouldn’t know just where to sit;
For that chair isn’t strong on its legs, and we never use it a bit:
We keep it to match with the sofa; but Jack says it would be like you
To flop yourself right down upon it, and knock out the very last screw.
“Suppose you try! I won’t tell. You’re afraid to! Oh! you’re afraid they would think it was mean!
Well, then, there’s the album: that’s pretty, if you’re sure that your fingers are clean.