Right straight to an auctioneer's shambles doth go;
And "Find me a ready-cash buyer," says he,
"To take his own pick out of my fam-i-ly."
VIII.
Miss Linda sprang up with a look of dismay:
"You surely don't mean, dear papa, what you say?"
Then spake the stern parent, nowise looking blue,
But smiling, in fact: "Well, I reckon I do."
Chorus.—Calculated to account for the complacency of the tender parent on this trying occasion:
Now what, after all, is a sale to the chit?