(Here two of the children pull at her dress and ask for water, and one says: Gimme a piece of bread’n butter. She tells them to get it themselves, and then resumes her reading.)
Once grief did rave about my lonely head;
Once I did droop, as droops a drooping willow bough;
Once I did tune my liah to doleful strains—
(One of the children calls out) Say, can’t you gimme somethin’ to eat, I’m most starved. (Another says) Won’t you lemme have some? Say, won’t you lemme? (Another, in a loud defiant tone) Gimme some; gimme some quick.
Bet. (To one of the children) Bring me my thimble. (He brings it and she puts it on and snaps their heads with it, and they cry and go into a corner and make up faces at her and one of them pinches the child in the cradle, and he kicks against it and yells.)
Once I did tune my liah to doleful strains,
’Tis past, for Betsey Slimpsey, formally Bobbett, is married now.
(Here Simon groans so loud that Betsey stops and says): Husband keep still and listen to your wife’s him of victory!
No trouble now can touch my haughty head,