And fifty-three dozen of napkins,
And when she’s christened, oh, dear me!
Wont we have a jovial spree.
I cannot help thinking, oh, what fuss
There was in calling in the nurse,
Run for a napkin, open the door,
The child has dirtied on the floor.
At three months old she’ll learn to walk,
Italian, Dutch, and Spanish, talk,
She’ll jump Jim Crow and catch the flies,