A Schoolgirl then, she curls her hair in papers,
And mimics father’s gout, and mother’s vapours;
Tramples alike on customs and on toes,
And whispers all she hears to all she knows:
“Betty” (she cries), “it comes into my head,
Old maids grow cross, because their cats are dead;
My governess has been in such a fuss
About the death of her old tabby puss;
She wears black stockings! Ha! ha! what a pother
’Cause one old cat’s in mourning for another!”