“Her temper is a curse,
And yet it seems to me
That this is rather worse.”
So home he went once more
In philosophic mood,
And though his wife still vexed him sore,
He did enjoy his food.
Chorus. So home he went once more, etc.
The song was very much applauded, and every one then fell upon the tarts with an appetite which the slight delay had pleasantly renewed.
It turned out afterwards that it was all a mistake about the Knave.