Out of temper at last with the insolent dame,
And feeling the woman was greatly to blame,
To scold me instead of caressing,
I mimicked her speech, like a churl as I am,
And angrily said, “You’re a dam—dam—dam—
A dam-age instead of a blessing.”
A SONG WITH VARIATIONS.
[Scene.—Wife at the piano; brute of a husband, who has no more soul for music than his boot, in an adjoining apartment, making his toilet.]
Oh! do not chide me if I weep!—
Come, wife, and sew this button on.