This new one has a thuckeen now to sweep and mind the door
And entertain with parish chat each gossiping voteen[[8]]
She’d have no thuckeen near the place, would crabbéd Josephine.
They tell me this one’s up-to-date—too up-to-date for me;
I tremble at her polished floors, and modern cookery,
The old man finds the old ways best—old springs were twice as green—
I’ve heard His Lordship praise the stews of clever Josephine.
My study was my sanctum once—a castle all my own—
But this one with her natty ways can’t leave the place alone.
Her fingers ache to tidy up; and, when she’s extra clean,